𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓐𝓼 𝓘𝓬𝓮 [𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖊]

5

Of course, it had to be tonight, Rosé thought savagely, closing the communication device that was so visionary it didn't even have a name. Word had come down from Madame Lee—the time for waiting was passed, and tonight was the night. There was no wiggle room; at midnight, when the harbor patrol changed, they were taking Kai's Seven Sins and disappearing. The course had been plotted long ago, and the men in the wheelhouse were some of the best. No one would be able to find them, even with the most advanced surveillance systems.

Then again, no one would be looking for them. Kim Jongin was known to take off when the mood struck him, and the time he spent aboard the Seven Sins usually involved the world's idea of romance. If he disappeared, it would first be assumed he had some sort of assignation, probably at his private island. And Rosé Park had been on-site long enough to know how to steer nosy people in the wrong direction.
Kai did have an assignation on Little Fox Island, all right. But it wasn't with leggy model. He had an appointment with death, and the longer Rosé was around him the more she knew it was long overdue.

But why the hell did Madame Lee have to pick tonight? When a relative innocent had strayed into their path? She was used to dealing anomalies, but her choices had never been quite so clear cut. She had to get off the boat. Or she had to die.

And she had only a few hours to make that happen.

Questioning orders were frowned upon by the Committee, and Rosé didn't even consider it. She did her job with single-minded determination and ignored the larger ramifications. He didn't want to be the one making life or death decisions. If he had to make them, he might have trouble carrying them out, and the world couldn't afford that.

Saving the world, one murder at a time, Rosé thought, putting her glasses back on her face. The funny thing was, she really didn't want to kill Kim Jongin. For the simple reason that she was afraid he might enjoy it, and then she'd really be lost.

It was going to be an antiseptic, long-distance hit, and she'd let Bobby do the honors. Bobby had no qualms about his work; he relieved in it a bit too much, which could always be a liability. Rosé's icy control was money in the bank—the job got done with deadly efficiency and no fuckups.
There'd be no fuckups on this one either. But she had to get rid of Jennie Kim. Now.

She'd miscalculated. Jennie sat in one of the elegant lounges on Kai's megayacht, forcing herself to eat sparingly of the food that was far too good for a pick-up chef, and drank too much wine. She should have paid attention, but even by her recently pampered standards the wine was extraordinary, and it would have been a crime to ignore it. She knew herself well enough to know when she'd had enough, but it was too late at that point, and her only choice was to manage a dignified retreat.

It hadn't been a bad evening—Kai was charming, full of flattering attention and entertaining stories that poked fun at both himself and the high and mighty.
At some other time, Jennie might have felt like reciprocating that flattery—he was a movie star handsome, and she hadn't been involved with anyone in longer than she wanted to remember. The firm would approve, and she could have a night of pleasure to send her on her way to the rain forest.

The problem, of course, was that it wouldn't be particularly pleasurable. The first time she slept with a man it tended to be uncomfortable, nerve-racking, even unpleasant. Even with the wine and the tranquilizers, she would only manage to relax enough to do it but not enjoy it. No, Kim Jongin was flirting heavily, but he didn't seem likely to push it, and she was just as happy tone able to keep a relative distance.

"I've got a busy day tomorrow" she said, rising on thankfully steady feet.
"I've had a lovely evening, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to say goodnight."