“Your wife?” he sneers. “You mean poor Monroe Ross, one of my star teachers, who you pushed away when she lost the baby? You’ve put her through so much lately, Jin-tae. Maybe it’s time I put her out of her misery.”
My jaw aches as I clench it and ball my fists, trying to keep cool, but how can I given the circumstances?
He has Monroe locked away in a wardrobe he’s placed right at the edge of the cliff.
“You took them from me,” I say against the tension swelling through me. “You took her and our son away. It’s because of you this has happened! Is that not revenge enough for you?”
“It willneverbe enough!” he barks, eyes going wide and wild from sheer outrage. “I got in your rabbit’s good graces quite easily. Then I fed her that ginger tea day by day, laced with a special poison that slowly but surely damaged that bastard growing inside her. I knew it would be enough to break you apart—you are a weak man, Jin-tae! You could not be there for her like a strong man would be!”
“Yet here you are, still trying to hurt her,” I grit out. “If I’m so weak, you wouldn’t need to do all this. You wouldn’t need to torment her. You want to talk about who is deserving of what? She’s a good woman; she doesn’t deserve to suffer!”
“Neitherdid mine.”
Lightning flashes with another boom of thunder, illuminating the hard lines of his face. His cold, dark eyes.
“My wife was pregnant when they came for us,” he continues. “We werehappy. We were planning our future. But then your father betrayed the Hyeonmudan. He was a rat for the Baekho Pa, and they slaughtered everyone I loved. Do you know what it feels like to watch the one you love die, Jin-tae? To be there as the life drains out of them and know there’s nothing you can do?”
My mind travels back in time to the most helpless moment of my life—the moment I was stuck in the wardrobe, peering through the crack as my eomma died. As she was slaughtered and appa was soon to follow.
The despair on his face as he watched then met the blade only seconds later is an image seared into my head, no matter how many years it’s been or how hard I’ve tried to erase such trauma.
“Yes,” I grit out. “I do.”
Black Shell laughs, the corner of his lip curling. “You would, wouldn’t you? But guess what, Jin-tae? You’re due for a reminder.”
“You’ll never succeed. I won’t let you.”
“We’ll see about that.” He kicks his boot against the side of the wooden wardrobe and makes the piece of storage furniture hover precariously over the edge. “Your rabbit is trapped inside there. One more nudge like this and she goes over.
“She drowns to death in the cold and the dark, bound and terrified, without ever having made up with you. Without ever knowing how much you do love her. Are you willing to gamble on her future by fighting me?”
“I’ve been ready. You owe me a rematch.”
His grin broadens. “Ah, there’s that cocky Silent Hunter. Will you fight with discipline this time, or will you let rage drive you likebefore?”
Why not both?
I’m running on pure adrenaline as I rip my shirt in half and let it fall to the rain-soaked gravel below. I’m otherwise drenched like Black Shell is, my dark hair slick and wet against my brow. The freezing cold droplets continue pelting down, but I barely register them as I survey Black Shell like a white tiger in the jungle.
My eyes track his every subtle move, watching him as if waiting for the right moment to pounce.
“Let’s finish this.”
Black Shell shifts his stance, legs more than shoulder width apart as he holds his hands up and then beckons me forward.
“I’m relieved you’ve finally asked, Jin-tae. I’ve been waiting for this moment for thirty years. The moment I finish destroying you.”
He attacks like a viper striking with its fangs.
It’s sudden, fast, and immediately lethal.
He closes the distance between us in less than a heartbeat, moving impressively fast and nimbly for a man of his age. It’s clear despite retiring from the criminal world long ago, he’s kept himself in tiptop shape.
He’s likely been training for this from the moment he found out Jung-hoon’s small son survived.
His first strike comes in the form of a fist rocketing toward my face. I barely get my guard up in time, throwing my forearms out to block.
Just as he’s fast for his age, he’s also noticeably strong—the impact from his blow reverberates through me and sends me sliding back on the wet rocks.
