Chapter 5

Taehyung

I had never wanted to fuck someone in an elevator more that I wanted to fuck Lalisa. I wasn't convinced she wouldn't have let me. The way her lips parted, and her breathing became shallow when I was close to her had been ample evidence of how deeply I affected her. I hated to admit it, but her effect on me wasn't far off.

The red dress she'd been wearing was professional yet moulded to every curve of her beautiful body like the glossy coating on a candy apple. I had wanted to peel back that layer and see the sweet flesh underneath - she promised to be delicious. There were no obvious panty lines. The image of her wearing nothing underneath had my dick swelling as if I was a thirteen-year-old kid again.

Lalisa's thick, dark hair had been pulled up loosely on top of her head. The style drew my eyes to the delicate column of her neck, not helping the situation in my pants. Her eyes were dark brown and usually expressive - I could see each and every thought and emotion as it crossed behind those wide intelligent eyes.

The woman was sophisticated, gorgeous, and dripping with a surprising amount of innocence. That guileless innocence warred with her desire - she had clearly been torn - both drawn to and scared of me. She hadn't let the fear win out. Most people, even when they had no clue who I was, withered in my presence. A part of Lalisa had wanted to withdraw, to cower in a corner of the elevator and keep her eyes downcast, but she hadn't. She stood tall, and even more intriguing; she had held my eyes. It was surprising how few women or men were capable of that feat.

The woman was even more enticing that I had expected.

Sure, she was gorgeous, which was why I'd zeroed in on her to being with, but there was something else about het that called to me. She seemed to possess the unusual combination of backbone with a natural inclination to submit. I found most often, women with fortitude had trouble surrendering control, and submissive women were often too weak to hold my interest. There was a sweet spot right in the middle where a woman was strong and confident but also able and willing to bend her will to a man. It made me naturally curious just how far a woman like her could be bent. She would probably argue with my assessment, seeing herself as strong, independent woman. However, her instant response to my commands was more telling than any argument she could make - her innate tendency was compliance.

If I wanted to get close to a woman like her, I would need to play my cards just right. Too much force and she'd run. Not enough, and she'd lose interest. I would have to set the stage carefully to draw her in.

It was a good thing I loved a challenge.

Interrupting my thoughts, my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I hated the damn thing, but it was a necessity - I did most of my business over the phone.

"Yeah."

"Our guy's report came back - the handwriting's a fake," said Jimin, one of the few people I trusted in the world. He'd had it rough growing up, and I'd done what I could to help him, which meant he'd beed my shadow ever since.

"It's all connected - it's got to be them," I murmured. "We just have to pinpoint who he's working for."

"I'm not sure how much time you have before all hell breaks loose."

"I'm on it." I hung up the call and attempted to stretch out the tension that coiled in my neck. This job could make or break me. There were people at the very top expecting me to come through - disappointing them was not an option.

The last time I had to worry about disappointing anyone was when my mom had still been around. There was Irene, but she'd probably have thrown a party if I disappeared off the face of the Earth. Proving myself to her had never been an issue. Ma was different. There was nothing worse than seeing her eyes shimmer with sadness when I'd gone off half-cocked or failed in some way to live up to my potential - the potential she saw in me.

I'd been a dumbass kid who thought my mom would be around forever. In two seconds flat, that childish delusion had been shattered. One minute, I was a normal kid, itching to graduate high school, the next, my world became unrecognizable. There was no longer anyone to keep me in line.

The only thing that mattered was revenge.

Ma had been one of the good ones, and I had tested her patience at every opportunity. I spent far too many hours out on the streets with friends, especially during hours of the night when no good can come from wandering about. She raised Irene and me on her own, giving us every advantage she could scrape together. It hadn't been much, but it was a hell of a lot more than some kids got. She was a hard worker, patient, kind, but also firm. She had expectations of us. That alone was a gift many kids never received, and one I hadn't appreciated until she was gone.

Often, I'd look to the sky and wonder if she was watching. If she knew the things I'd done. For a while, it weighed on me - the guilt. Over the years, I'd come to terms with who I was and my role in the world. I'd shed my worries about her disappointment like an ill-fitting skin, sluffed off on the rocks, never to be seen again.

Times change, however. Just as my world shifted when my mom died, I could sense a new shift in my trajectory. For the first time in many years, other people were counting on me - watching and waiting to see how I'd perform. I may have fallen short where my ma was concerned, but this time, I wasn't going to fail.

I was ten years older and a hell of a lot wiser. Wise enough to know that tangling myself with Lalisa probably wasn't the brightest move. I needed an in, and while I could have chosen someone a little frumpier and less appealing, I'd convinced myself the moment I'd seen Lalisa that she was the one.

She would make the job far more enjoyable - where was the harm in that?

Two birds, one stone. I was all about efficiency.

It had been weeks since I'd gotten laid. I wasn't the indiscriminate teenager anymore who fucked anything in a skirt. Whether they knew better or not, women regularly offered themselves up to me on a silver platter. I'd learned over the years that the old adage, quality over quantity, had merit. Any guy with a dick could stick it in a hole - there was no satisfaction in that. The pursuit of something far more refined was infinitely more appealing.

Lalisa was the definition of refined.

She would be the perfect quarry, and the hunter in me was clawing to start the chase.