Killer's Kiss

Chapter twelve

Chaeyoung is seriously considering punching Jennie on her pretty face. The audacious Korean woman had gone behind her back and set her up on a blind date. In Tokyo, no less. A blind date with – as Jennie described it – a rich, well-mannered, "suited-for-Roseanne" male specimen.

If that wasn't enough, Jennie and Jisoo had scheduled a double date at the very same restaurant and time as Chaeyoung's. As Jennie so kindly assured her, this setup eliminated the possibility of Chaeyoung ending up in one of those disturbing stalking cases she'd read about far too often in Japan.

It's currently five in the afternoon, and Chaeyoung's date is set for seven. The restaurant specializes in crabs and other sea delicacies, which, admittedly, excites her. Crabs are practically her soul food – never mind that she only loves them for their sweet, juicy meat. A fancy dinner at a high-end restaurant with a possibly good man? It doesn't sound awful.

After the fallout with Chanyeol, Chaeyoung could certainly use a distraction. Her breakup with her ex-boyfriend wasn't enough of a blow, but Chanyeol's betrayal added insult to injury. The thought of tonight's mystery man being a serial killer briefly crosses her mind, but she shakes it off. That would just be her rotten luck.

The restaurant doesn't just look fancy – royal is a better word. The ambiance is so extravagant that Chaeyoung feels out of place. Every table is occupied by individuals who look like they could buy her with a single swipe of their platinum cards. Her eyes flit to her date, who sits across the table from her.

Akira Suzuki. Strikingly handsome, almost too much so. His dark blonde hair falls in perfect waves, framing a face that could only be described as divine. Pale, flawless skin adds an ethereal touch to his godlike beauty. And yet, as Chaeyoung listens to him drone on, all that magnificence fades into utter blandness. Akira is as stimulating as wallpaper.

Chaeyoung struggles not to groan. She debates excusing herself to the bathroom and simply never coming back. He's been rambling for what feels like hours about his mother's husband's empire, or something like that. His branded clothes? Probably courtesy of his stepfather's deep pockets. What was the company's name again? Lastro? Lastri? She doesn't care enough to get it right.

"Like I said..." Akira adjusts the Henley of his blouse, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. "...it's pretty cool. I mean, you wouldn't even begin to imagine how massive his company is. I'd love to take you to the main base, but–"

"Dude," Chaeyoung cuts him off, licking a smear of sauce off her lower lip. "You sound like you're advertising the bloody company. I didn't come here for a sponsored meet-up. This is a dinner, Akira, not an interview–"

"Dude?" His face contorts in shock, as though she'd just insulted his entire lineage. "Did you just call me dude?"

Chaeyoung blinks, perplexed. "What?" She clears her throat at his horrified expression. "Are you offended?"

"Offended is an understatement, darling." His attempt at a British accent is so exaggerated it takes everything in her not to burst out laughing. "How could you address me with such an informal and unbecoming term? I am a distinguished gentleman with a prestigious inheritance–"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Chaeyoung bolts upright, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "Go date your gold then. It was absolutely horrendous meeting you; I hope we never cross paths again."

She barely takes a step before an arm snakes around her shoulders, halting her in her tracks.

"Are you troubling this lady?"

The voice is smooth, velvety, and chilling in its calmness. Chaeyoung freezes, her breath catching in her throat. She doesn't dare turn her head, but every fiber of her being knows who that voice belongs to.