Jaemin promised.
He promised himself that he would never get tied to her again, a vow made long before he considered the possibility of crossing paths with her once more.
From a distance, he watched her. The baggy clothes she wore hinted at an awkward fit, and he noticed her forehead crease as she adjusted the fresh bandage tightly wrapped around her right shoulder.
He found himself observing the way her lips would pucker in curiosity at every unfamiliar sight and how she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She reminded him of a child waiting outside a store while her mother went inside.
Jaemin snapped back to reality, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head.
What am I even doing?
"Sir Na?"
He turned to see Haechan, clad in his usual leather attire, knives concealed within his coat.
"Am I disturbing you?"
"No, never," Jaemin replied, his tone light. "What is it?"
"It's about the men you ordered to track Liu Yangyang. One of my unit members sent this. The seal is from China."
"Weishen?"
"Seems like it."
Jaemin's brow furrowed as he opened the sealed envelope, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He scoffed at the boldly printed letters.
Haechan leaned closer. "Target locked?" he read.
"Any intel on the location?" Jaemin asked, tearing the paper.
"Jisung is already on it."
"Mhm. And Weishen?"
"I suspect they sent Liu to spy on us. They've dug into Mark's family background and conveniently uncovered information about Areum."
Jaemin nodded, the torn paper falling to the floor, leaving traces of his disapproval.
"Tell Mark to send a message to Qian Kun."
"What message, sir?"
"Mark knows," Jaemin replied curtly, then turned away.
His footsteps led him back to Areum, who stood by the large open window, her gaze fixed outside.
"Will you just stand there?" Areum spoke without looking at him, a sigh escaping her lips. "How long will you hold me prisoner?"
"I'm not holding you prisoner. I'm doing what your brother prefers."
"So this is really his idea."
"No, this is my idea."
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What? For a mafia boss, you don't look like one," she said, a playful smirk forming on her lips.
He quirked an eyebrow. "And what do I look like?"
"My boyfriend," she replied casually, the words rolling off her tongue with surprising ease.
YOU ARE READING
DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
Fanfiction❝Can I have your heart after this dance?❞ He's a charming, pale-skinned criminal, eyes of a blackhole; I sink. Lips of trickling blood, hands in grip on my waist; I was held. He is my sweet torture, my greatest sin; my demon. ▂ ❗️ reader discreti...
