Chapter Twenty

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Mingyu sat at his desk in his Switzerland office, skimming over the headlines of the British newspapers Anna had brought. His gaze lingered on the front page of one of them. A photograph.

"Anything interesting?" he said.

"Not really," Anna replied. "The funeral was three days ago. The British SIS does suspect the Colombian organized crime groups, but there's no proof so far."

Mingyu hummed. "We both know there won't be. Lee isn't an amateur."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Since when did you become so friendly with him? Last time I checked, you despised him."

"He has his uses," Mingyu said.

An amused smile graced Anna's normally serious face. "Yes, to do the dirty work for you, thinking he's following his own agenda."

Mingyu gave her a flat look. "Jeon did dupe him. I simply helped Lee find out about it."

"Out of the goodness of your heart, of course."

That wasn't worth commenting on, so he didn't.

"I didn't think you'd actually have him offed," Anna said.

Mingyu shrugged. "Can't say I'm upset about Jeon's death, but I can't take credit for it. I left it up to Lee's discretion. I don't have that much influence over him, anyway." He'd expected Lee to merely rough Jeon up, not kill him. It had been a miscalculation on his part.

Perhaps that was why he hadn't felt any particular satisfaction when he'd been informed of Jeon's death.

Anna's lips twisted. "It's very rare when I agree with Lee. The world is better off without that backstabbing asshole." Shaking her head, Anna turned to leave.

"Anya."

She stopped and looked at him inquiringly.

Mingyu's gaze returned to the photograph of the funeral.

"Find out who that man is," he said, pushing the newspaper across the desk so that she could see it. "Everything about him."

"Which one?" Anna asked, without batting an eye. She was used to far stranger requests. She was a former KGB agent, after all. Very little could faze her.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat. "The one who has an arm around Jeon's son."

She shot him a sharp look.

He met her eyes steadily.

But she didn't question his orders. She'd always been wiser than Yoongi. Although she was older than Mingyu by fifteen years and had known him far longer than Yoongi had—she had previously been Mingyu's father's bodyguard—Anna had never allowed herself to speak as freely as Yoongi had. Mingyu knew she was fond of him, but she was a professional to the T.

When Anna left, Mingyu pulled the newspaper closer.

He stared at the photograph again.

The boy didn't look particularly heartbroken by his father's death. Given what Mingyu knew about Jeon, he couldn't say he was surprised.

Wonwoo looked...different. The dark curls were straightened, his soft face pale and blank, his dark eyes serious.

Mingyu found his hand gripping the armrest.

He dragged his gaze away, shifting it to the tall man who had an arm around the boy's shoulders and who was whispering something into Wonwoo's ear. It looked more than friendly.

Crushing the newspaper in his hand and throwing it into the bin, Mingyu pressed his lips together.

Jeon was dead. The boy was no longer relevant. Any plans Mingyu had had concerning the boy were no longer relevant. He didn't need any information on the man who had his hands

on—

Disgusted, Mingyu cut off his train of thought. Perhaps Yoongi had been right after all. This was unacceptable.

His phone rang.

"I've found the information you requested," Anna said when he answered. "Do you want me to forward the file?"

Sometimes he wished Anna wasn't as efficient as she was.

"Mingyu?" she said when he didn't reply.

"No," he said. "Just give me a short summary."

"Kim Namjoon," Anna said. "Twenty-seven, the head of the Risk Management department at

Grayguard. It's the largest financial services company in the UK—"

"I know what Grayguard is," Mingyu cut her off. "I've met Arthur Grayson. Go on."

"All in all, he's made one hell of a career, and he seems to have managed that without making any enemies. Reportedly, he's firm in his beliefs but quite nice to deal with. He owns a charming house in Kensington and—

"Sexual orientation?" Mingyu said.

There was silence on the line.

At last, Anna replied, "He's not promiscuous, but he seems to be gay or bi. In one interview, he mentioned that he's looking for a serious relationship."

Mingyu picked up a lighter from the desk. "The nature of his relationship with Jeon's son?"

"It seems to be a recent thing," Anna said after a moment. "There have been speculations in the British media, but I can't confirm anything yet—"

"Don't bother," Mingyu said. "It's not important."

He hung up and put the phone on the desk, very carefully.

Then, he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and flipped the lid of the lighter. Leaning back in his chair, he took a deep drag, and then another.

So the boy had finally found his perfect man. Good for him.

Good.

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