#2 TOXIC SERIES - READ VENOMOUS LOVE FIRST IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY SPOILERS.
When you think of a prison, a penthouse overlooking Sydney isn't the first thing that comes to mind. I bet not even your last. But ever since my mom died when I was barely th...
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"Look what the cat dragged in... Our pretty mouse."
Hidden behind a butcher shop in downtown Seoul was one of the locations where the higher ranks of the Yun Syndicate met up. Their soldiers—a nameless mass of the mafia that consisted of thugs and young street kids who did everything for money without remorse—never set foot in here. They resided in a warehouse on the other side of town where they had a place to sleep and train.
They all had hopes, dreams, of climbing the ladder but they never would. The Yun was about family, and no street rat would ever get the chance to dilute their blood.
Hope was most of the time more powerful than money. And the Yun all but loved to play that card to keep their men in check.
I wasn't a Yun. And yet I got caught in their web, stuck for almost ten years now.
Hope was a peculiar thing. Because even when I knew better, I held on to that piece of hope with everything I had. Without it...there would be nothing but darkness.
"Can't be seen with us, rich boy?" Taeyang added with a devilish smirk he called a smile. But behind all his charm lay a dangerous man who wasn't keen on not getting his way.
His raven hair reached the tops of his shoulders, wild like his personality. He raked his hand through it to get a lock out of his face to show me his cunning, black eyes. Beneath sat a small nose and lips that thinned into nothing whenever he stretched the corners of his mouth up to his ears.
It baffled me how easy women fell for him. He was far from ugly, but he wasn't particularly handsome either.
Still, they nicknamed him Charmer for a reason. It was his suave way of talking women (and men) into doing something for him. He had a way with words.
He made a sane man jump off the bridge into the Han River. He all but loved to brag about that moment.
I slapped the cold off that clung to my arms as I stepped into the room. The only way to get here was through a cool cell filled with rows of cadavers hooked onto the ceiling. I've seen things here that still haunt me in my sleep.
"Don't be like that, Tae." I sat down on a vacant brown leather Chesterfield. It creaked under my weight as I zipped my jacket open and threw my ankle over the knee to get more comfortable. "You know how busy I am at the club."
His expression was unchanged. I grinned at him. "Did you miss me that much, Taetae?"
"Don't call me that. It sounds way too fucking much like titty."
Why the fuck do you think I keep calling you that?
"Of course, my bad. So how are things? Burned anything to the ground yet? Or did big bro Dae keep you out of trouble?"
Dae, an enforcer who ate iron for breakfast, didn't blink an eye. He sat behind Tae at a large table completely covered with weapons that would make the South Korean army blush. He was cleaning an AK-47 with a cloth like he would caress his lover in bed. The burly man always had a weird fascination for guns. Which was odd, he didn't need to arm himself with any of that when he was built like a fucking tank.
