Rain

Cigarette smoke hung in the air, coalescing with red dim lighting.

Poker cards had replaced the food on the main table, and the smaller ones near couches where the guest clan members were lounging.

A few men loitered outside the main hall, heated conversation filling my ears.

The place had turned from a five-star luxury spa & resort to a black market dungeon front a little bit too fast.

I was making my way back from the bathroom, trying to avoid drunk mobsters that couldn't walk straight.

Not that I was any better.

My legs were only starting to get back to supporting me without shaking when I was leaning on a column near the bar, sipping a gin with cucumber slices cause a girl needs to hydrate. Watching Suga from afar. Noticing his poker face, as he made polite conversation with two leaders over stupidly expensive whiskey, the 5k per bottle kind.

But someone else was watching me, watching Suga.

"What's his secret?"

Jiyong Kwon, leader of the Kwon clan, in the streets known as Dragons, was leaning on the wall next to me. I followed the path of his vision. He was too, looking at Suga. Probably because he saw me watching him.

Secret? I wish I knew my dude. However, I doubt Jiyong was referring to Suga's big secret I was trying all this time to unravel.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you after," I took a sip from my drink.

Jiyong narrowed his eyes, putting his hands in his pockets.
"I know that you're joking but that's not something you should casually throw in this kind of place. Around this kind of people. There are a few leaders that would take something like that for a threat. Or an opportunity."

Did the fucker just... scold me?
His smile was so smooth, it contested JB's. It was a different type of self-assured smile. It was that kind of smile that made you know he mastered the art of taking from an early age. That couldn't care less if you said no. That thousands of pairs of underwear would likely drop in the sight of it voluntarily. But he would only be interested in the few that didn't. So morally gray he would right the wrongs and wrong the rights, making everything serve his way.

"So? Should I change the way I speak?" My tone was a tad of fly the fuck away, with some leave me in fucking peace. I left no room for him to interpret it differently.

He definitely caught it. He asserted me for a second. "Only a fool would think that he can tell you what to do. You're the kind of person who if you're told no, you will do it twice and take pictures."

I won't lie. Still looking at the grand hall, the leaders, and my clanmates, a smile I wasn't expecting crept up on me. But I didn't comment on his spot-on accusation.

"You didn't answer me though." He looked back at Suga again. "How is it that a man can come from one day to another to such power? Such a massive amount of wealth? Having everything?"

That was the secret he was referring to?

"It's called inheritance. Not that he doesn't deserve it any less." I took a sip of my drink. "You're not doing so bad yourself as far as I know."

A low laugh. Paired with a taunting smile.

Staying calm, I turned to face him.

"You want something?"

The look he gave me, from top to bottom, answered everything and created a thousand more questions at the same time.

You. The way he was looking at me said. I have the money and the power as well as him. But Suga has also you. And I want to have everything.

"I definitely see something I want."

Remember what I said about his smile pegging him as the type of person with virtually no moral or ethical reservations? Conspiracy confirmed.

I became acutely aware of my rapid heartbeat. I blame it on the coke. And not the fact that I was afraid that Suga would see Jiyong looking at me like that, and that's how the Trojan war started.

"I think you should take your own advice and be careful of what you say. People here might make assumptions." A razor-thin smile completed my sentence. "And in case I'm not clear enough," I lifted a shoulder, "kindly, fuck off." I rolled my eyes and peeled off the wall I was leaning on, ready to walk away.

He inserted himself in my path, cutting my way. Kept staring me down. That's the thing with dudes like him. They think the conversation is over when they choose to. In this case, he didn't finish, so he thinks it's still ongoing.

That, or he was enjoying our little mental sparring too much.

Either way,

"I was perfectly clear," I repeated, looking him in the eyes this time.
He smiled like he got confirmation for something.

Give me a fucking break dude, I'm running out of glares.

"Look dude," I got in his face. Was I about to threaten a mafia leader in a mob convention?
"...My oyabun is calling me." I played the last card I could think of that wouldn't heat the scene.

He broke face and laughed.

The fuck??

"What's so funny?" I gritted my teeth.

"Everything." His answer was as confusing as it was philosophical. A lot.
"Ryiuzaki Rei," he said my name, almost like tasting it. "I knew your mother well."

Cold, ice wave washed over me. I don't know why. Maybe because every time someone mentioned her I felt like I was getting to know something new. It always terrified me.

"Magnificent, powerful woman," he went on keeping my stare. "I admired her. She was the only one that kept order here. It was fascinating being in her presence. I learned a lot from her."

It was my turn to stay silent. He knew he had a grasp on me now. He knew exactly what he was going to say from the start. Bringing the conversation exactly where he wanted it.

He took my drink from my hand, taking a sip, his eyes never leaving mine. Asserting dominance even here, that he is a guest, treating everything like it belongs to him.

He licked his lips, tasting my gin.
"Like, don't bullshit a bullshiter for example." His playful yet serious smile told me he wasn't second-guessing. "So tell me, how did you convince your Oyabun," he mocked the word, "to follow your plan?" His eyes danced with amusement. "Please spare me the part where you pretend you're not the one pulling the strings in this clan."

I didn't reply. And it was worse.

"And back to the first question," he tilted his head sideways with curiosity, "how did he manage to have someone like you under him? To make you a mere member of his clan when in reality you should be the one on that throne?" He paused before repeating, the question that had a whole new meaning now, "What's his secret?"

He searched my eyes again. Didn't find anything.

I was fucking, furiously, speechless.

"You know, I was planning on leaving tonight. I think I will stay a few days after all. I'm having such a good time. I really like it here," Still smiling with the fucking smile I wanted to swipe off his face with my fist, he retreated, turning to the bar.

"I'll have one more of...what were we drinking?" He turned and smiled at me, while the bartender waited to fix his drink.

"One would think the owners of this house could afford to treat their guests with enough drinks to have each their own glass,"
The amount of irony Suga had managed to fit into that sentence was nothing compared to the way he was looking at Jiyong, and my glass, that he was still holding. Proof of it was my red lipstick on it.

"I hope you don't mind, Rei here kept me company while grandpa leaders were monopolizing your attention," Dude sneakily changed his attitude to the trustworthy bro you would have a blood oath with. "I also wanted to see if she's better. She looked in pain at dinner. One gin please," He passed the glass back to the bartender.

My cheeks flushed. "I had twisted my ankle. Not used to walking on heels," I fake laughed, knowing well that Jiyong had fucking understood everything. Down to how many times I came.

"You should put ice on that," Suga said, still looking at Jiyong.
Got the reference? Ice. Jiyong was a dead man.

I was about to try and get Suga's attention somehow, to tell him to come with me, when one of the grandpa leaders -as Jiyong called them- came to where we were standing, with a woman more or less our age following him gracefully. Most of them did indeed have thirty years younger trophy wives. However, for him specifically, I remembered from regional leaders 101 with RM, that he was widowed twenty years ago and never remarried.

Of course, the leader ignored me and greeted only Suga and Jiyong. Then proceeded, to introduce his company.
"Tzuyu, my daughter," he brought her to the front.
Jiyong replied politely with a charm-your-pants smile, and Suga did too.
He did what now?

"First time in this kind of thing?" Jiyong asked her, feigning interest that I knew he wasn't occupied with.
Tzuyu nodded, her father standing beside her with pride like he was presenting a prized horse.

"I hope you feel welcome like your home," Suga smiled. Again.

Why was my vision getting blurry?

Probably from the smoke coming from your nostrils.

Probably because it was the first time that I felt the hot green liquid slithering into my soul because I watched someone I had feelings for being admired and wanted by others.

"Rei?" Jiyong asserted me, hiding a cunning smile and I wanted to slab him. Slap and stab him.
"She looks in pain again. You should probably put ice on that ankle." He rounded grandpa leader and his model-hot daughter, making his way to me. "Please, stay with your guests, Suga. I will help her to the kitchen." He fitted one hand under my arm, and Suga's eyelid ticked. Inside, he was exploding.

"Take your hands off me now or I'll break them," I whispered-smiled at him sweetly.
Perhaps, it was what I said, or most probably the way that Suga looked at him at that moment. But Jiyong did indeed remove his hands from me.

I always had theories about my mother's infamous glare and what it looked like.
There were rumors about it.
There was lore behind it.
Everyone knew about it.
And at that moment, I realized that yeah, I was her daughter but Suga had inherited it. Along with her empire.

It had a deep voice and a rich color.

It said, you, are dead. You only have to wait for your death now. Because I will kill you when you are least expecting it. In a deep, bloody red color.

It finally made sense why our tattoo was that color. And it was seven waves. Our tattoo was literally Nanami's voice.

I shot my stare at Suga. DON'T break the facade. Keep going. Ignore him.

Suga couldn't care less.

But if Suga was going to show everyone that he cared about me, I was putting us all, especially him in jeopardy. Sure, Jiyong had seen through the lie. But there were eleven more mafia fucking leaders here and their clans, ready to play monopoly murder.

Jiyong's clan was mingling and drinking right next to us. We couldn't- I couldn't risk everything for Suga's ego. Or Jiyong's games. We would figure it out later.

I'll be fine. I tried to tell him with my eyes. I know he understood. Didn't like it, but went with it.

I turned, letting Jiyong escort me to the kitchen to fake-ice my fake-twisted ankle. Suga watched us carefully for a few seconds as we went away. Then, returned to the grandpa leader who was trying to force his daughter down Suga's throat for bride apparently, like we were on The Bachelor: South Korean Mafia edition.

I took a look around the grand hall as we passed it. A lot of women that weren't here at the start of the evening had appeared. Of course, they had. Jb had warned me that the last time the Sokomob turned into a three-day orgy. Maybe I should have watched that tape instead of Nanami's fake killing.

My plan was foolproof. The problem? Jiyong wasn't a fool.

He saw right through it.

Turns out when I orchestrated it, I was thinking too much like a leader. And apparently, it was something he would do if he was me.

And the even-worse part?

He liked it. He like what I did. He found it very smart and cunning because of course he thinks like me and he is a fucking narcissist. I probably am too. I had wondered about it. But then again, they say that if you worry about being a narcissist, you aren't.

My lifelong experiences had taught me that the best way to deal with men like him was to confront, not ignore.

Because this man?

He liked to chase.

It was only two seconds after we entered the kitchen and I had popped my ass on the counter, immediately getting into strategizing mode on how to handle Jiyong's ass. 

Jiyong already knew we were exaggerating the power dynamics of our clan. Already knew it was my plan. And I had never been more sure that he was the one that threw the pebble of doubt into the ocean, creating ripples. He was definitely the one that had called this SoKoMob. But what was his motive?

There was one risky move I liked a lot in chess. Calling out your opponent's move.  Baiting them into thinking you know their endgame. A glorified bluff. But desperate times called for irrational measures. And in the limited time I had, it was the best plan I could think of.

Crushed ice clinked in a glass.

Jiyong turned from the freezer. He went to the table, where the drinks for the bar were stocked. Chin Hae probably thought that we were going to fill his huge pool with booze. Only that could explain why he had stocked so much alcohol for this meeting.
Jiyong picked a green bottle and poured some into the glass. Then a clear one. Poured some of that too. Then stirred with a thin, long spoon. Then picked some leaves from a plant. Probably spearmint. Then turned and looked at me, noticing I was tracking his every move. He dropped a charm-your-pants smile as I looked away, leaving him to his mixing session.

When he finished with whatever the fuck he was doing, he took another glass. Ice clinked in that as well. Then poured scotch into that one, looking at me meanwhile.

"We're not going to pretend that you need that ice." He took a sip from the glass with the scotch, his eyes pinning me onto the kitchen counter I was sitting on. Then offered me the drink he made. I took it without looking at it and placed it on the counter next to me.

"Lemme stop ya right here." I crossed my legs. "I'll save us both some precious time. One," I put one finger down," if you gonna bait me about intel for my mother, either go with it and spill. Otherwise, cut it right the fuck now, cause frankly it is getting really tiring and you are not the first to try this scam. Two," another finger down, "if you gonna try to sell me the riches and alliances dream, where you think you can manipulate me into ruling together or some other kind of fairytale, you might as well go dig your grave, and later give my salute to the first one that tried it. The name is Sakai. My Oyabun's late brother," I enunciated the word to spite him, and also show that Suga killed his own brother, he wasn't gonna even have a second thought about killing him. "And three," I jumped from the counter. Got in his face. Stopped counting. "Whatever the fuck you want to try, I assure you, others had tried before you. And it didn't end well for them. So back. the fuck. off."

He asserted me with narrow eyes from top to bottom. His stare was intense, leaving a burning sensation of flame on its trail.

"Sounds to me like Sakai's death was your plan too," he took a sip from the drink he made.

Bitch I- Shut up!

Did he listen at all to what I said?

"Did your Oyabun ask for your permission to kill him?" His voice lowered. "Does he asks for your  permission..." He didn't finish that sentence. Just tilted his head sideways, his stare all fire and darkness and smoke, letting me interpret it however I wanted.

I couldn't understand what he was trying to accomplish. Except for getting on my nerves. Or learning where I stand on CNC.

My talent for reading people was proving to be as useless as a strawberry milkshake when trying to get drunk. Jiyong was unreadable. He definitely wanted to stir shit up though.

And despite my power-play-bluff, I needed to be more careful. I wasn't going to acknowledge out loud that he was right, and I needed to stop him from telling anyone else about his theories. Cause if everyone found out that me playing pet was just a facade I invented to show everyone that we fear and respect Suga, the tables could easily turn on us. They would think we can easily be won oven. They might even think that the Seoul territory is up for grabs along with the Min empire.

I came to the conclusion that Jiyong was probably testing the waters. Feeling up the atmosphere.

I changed my mind immediately when with a swift yet gentle move he ran his hand through my hair.

I blinked in disbelief.

He just touched me!

I warned him that I will break his hands, and he did it anyway!

I grabbed both his shoulders, going for a knee-in-the-balls move, and he lifted a hand between us, holding a tiny piece of lint. "You had something on your hair," he murmured. "You can let go now."

I hated how there was a small smile on his lips as he said it.

I scoffed and took two steps back for good measure.

His eyes narrowed but I wasn't too worried. If he dared to touch me again he'd be found skinned and amputated on a stick in the middle of the busiest road in Seoul by six a.m. tomorrow. And he knew it. So explain to me why he didn't look concerned at all about that fact.

"You didn't try it." He looked at the drink he made, that I had left on the counter.

I looked at it like it was poisoned.

"It's not poisoned," he deadpanned, mildly offended. Not because I thought he would poison me, but because something so cliche was beneath him obviously.

Too bad. And here I thought I might escape this interaction somehow. Even if it requires my death.

I looked at the drink reluctantly as he held it before me.

What kind of mind games is he playing?

I'll admit it looked good. The icecubes were crushed, the coloring was a pale green, and around the tip of the glass was a white powder like crushed sugar probably.

I inhaled instinctively. It smelled too good to not be poisonous.

I took hold of the straw ready to draw a sip.

"You're supposed to lick the tip of the glass first, then drink," he held my stare.

I rolled my eyes and exhaled doing as he instructed.

A quick lick then a sip through the stra-

Holy. Fucking. Delicious.

My senses were attacked.

It tasted like fucking sin.

My knees almost gave out. Whatever I was about to say just crumbled into nothing, the only thing left in my mouth was the unholy taste.

And then it hit me.

The rush. The bliss. The tingling, numbing sensation on my tongue from the white bitter powder on the glass that I was too familiar with. My senses heightened. Every little hair on my body rose. The intensity of the flavors and the ice increased. The bitterness of a green apple. The freshness of cucumber.  It felt like dancing on fresh-cut grass in the rain.

A moan run through me and escaped my lips. And under this definitely poisonous drink's spell, I took a second, greedy sip.

"That wasn't how I imagined making you come." He remarked.

I stopped before swallowing. I went still. Everything in the kitchen, the air went still. I could hear the torturous ticks of a clock somewhere. I could hear my own heartbeat. Imagined. Making you. Come.

"For fuck's sake, I'm joking." He laughed. "You are so-" he shook his head. Then leaned on the table behind him, crossing his arms. "You never let go?"

Let go?

Let's see, I am a member of a fucking yakuza clan and recently went from ruler to the lowest in rank and even that took an impossible amount of effort and a life oath. My mother has faked her death and I have no idea why, and I might be in love with my leader who was appointed by my mother to follow me for years, but I can't tell him because he broke my trust because I broke his heart. Yeah. Not exactly letting go.

"No. I can't." Might as well the drink is a truth serum, cause I can't think of why I decided to reply truthfully. I took another sip. "Nice little talent you have here," I stirred the drink. "Useless, but nice." Another sip.

Seems like I was fully committed to getting through the whole SoKoMob drunk.

"Then you'll never be free," he replied. "Not now, not this year, not ever."

"Free?" I chuckled. "There is no such thing as freedom. It's an illusion made from ca-"

"Capitalism to control the masses." He finished my sentence. Did I mention that I hate him?

"But here's the thing."He pushed himself away from the table and made his way to the freezer again, putting ice cubes in a lower glass. "You can't deny that you have, some privilege and power. And instead of using it for a good cause, you run errands and sell blow."

I scoffed. "You must be joking again. You can't be really judging me for being unethical while you push guns and ammo. Look around! We are in a fucking meeting for criminals!"

He placed the glass with only ice in it on the table. "This is life when you don't let go." He nudged at it.

"You have the option to do the right thing or the thing you are told to do. And you do neither." His face hardened.

"That's life when you let go," he pointed at the glass I was holding. The delicious drink.

"When you decide that you want to find out what your potential could be, come and find me. You have two days. Until the end of this SoKoMob."

What the fuck?

"What exactly are you asking me to choose?"

"To figure out your fucking life Rei." He crossed his arms. "And by the way, I don't only sell guns. Your little info was incomplete." His smirk was sadistic at the least. "I do a lot of ...other things."

"Like making cocktails?" I mocked, crossing my arms, debating leaving his ass here and going back out. Even risking exposing our facade. I wasn't gonna sit and take a scold like a fucking child from him.

"That's just a hobby I enjoy," he smiled. And damn the fucking sin, his smile was unholy. "I don't just lead one mob clan. My occupations run deep."

I was too high and drunk for this shit. And I felt like Neo in the Matrix when Morpheus was asking him to choose the blue pill or the red pill.

Only I still didn't understand.

"What exactly do you want?"

"I want you to join my clan first of all. I have too much on my plate to run it. You would be a good leader for it..."

He was definitely shitting me.

My head was spinning.

He offered me his clan. To rule it. Just like that.

"...I know you would be a good fit. And before you ask, I want nothing in exchange."

Someone was playing a joke on me. I was tempted to look around for hidden cameras.

This couldn't be true.

"I don't believe you," I shook my head and laughed. Maybe took another sip of the forbidden cocktail. It was even more delicious now that I knew it tasted like freedom. "There is no such thing as selflessly giving something."

"So suspicious," he narrowed his eyes. "Must be really hard to believe someone when you've been lied to your whole life."

I felt a squeeze in my chest. And this time, it wasn't the coke.

But the deception. And at that moment I understood how all of them saw me. The hidden daughter that her mother had died. Only to be brought here and be lied to again. Thinking she inherited an empire and ended up a nobody.

"Think about my offer Rei. And come and find me when you decide you don't want to be a pawn anymore."

"I'm not!" -Was I? And why the fuck did I so stupidly admitted it? My plan was to prove that I am! That Suga has all the power. "Why would you make this kind of offer?"

"I like you." He said. Not like it was a game. But a statement. A truth. And surely a mindfucking one.

"You don't know me," I bit out.

His cunning smile told me that he did. Enough to go after me. Enough to stir trouble. Enough to call a fucking SoKoMob as an excuse to come here with his whole clan. Along with eleven more clans as a distraction.

I was about to protest that I don't have to think about his offer because I don't want to leave-and even if I wanted, I couldn't- when the door opened.

RM strouted inside and sent me a glare that screamed what the fuck are you doing. Here. With him. Then he looked at Jiyoung. Didn't offer him anything.

"Boss wants you. Now." He said to me while still looking at Jiyoung.

"She can't walk," Jiyoung smirked.

My blood rushed as I remembered that Jiyoung knew, well, everything. How the fuck did he manage to make me forget that he is a fucking manipulative narcissist?
With delicious cocktails and life options.

RM looked at me confused.

"She sprained her ankle. I would offer to carry her but I know your clan is all too sensitive about touching," Jiyoung smirked.

I didn't know where he knew this specific piece of information from. And it only proved that before, he touched me in front of Suga on purpose. And his cocktail proved he knew well what I was drinking when he asked the bartender for another one. He did it because he saw that Suga was coming.

Not gonna lie though, Jiyoung gave me the opportunity to watch RM squirm.

"It's true." I pouted. "Can you carry me back to my room RM?" Amusement danced in my eyes.

He was so cornered he was fucked. RM lately went as far as not even looking at me, and of course not touching me. And yet, he would let Jiyong carry me only over his dead body.

RM offered me a smile that said, nice try, not fucking happening. I'd rather get fucked by a cactus than carry you. He wasn't gonna fall for my shit again in this lifetime. "I'll call V to carry you." He granted, ready to press the earbud he was wearing.

"You're not fun anymore, RM," I rolled my eyes. And jumped from the counter, making my way out of the kitchen. Kinda disappointed that RM vs Jiyong lasted so little. That would have been very entertaining.

"You forgot your drink." Jiyong casually mentioned.

I turned and grabbed it.

RM eyed it carefully, his hands still crossed, as he waited for me to leave the kitchen. Then looked at Jiyoung, who raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. Taunting him.

I had treated life so far like a game.

Except it wasn't.

But I knew one thing for sure.

If life was a videogame, Jiyong was going to be the final boss.

A/N
So we're doing the "comment of the week" contest/challenge from now on.
This week's winner:

I love call of duty and especially battle royal so you get why I was biased.
Congrats @Fab_Med16