Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There were three gunshot wounds on my body in total: left shoulder, right abdomen, and the outside of my thigh.

Blood had glued my shirt to me. When I pulled it off, it tore the flesh open with it, and I couldn’t hold back a hiss.

“Useless.”

He sat in that broad mahogany chair without moving, only lifting his eyes to look at me.

The room was dimly lit, making his face look even paler and his eyes even darker, like two bottomless pools deep enough to drown a man at any moment.

Aside from the stench of blood, the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder.

And the cool scent of the cigars he always smoked, all of it mixing together until it made my head swim.

I said nothing, lowered my head, and continued treating the wound in my abdomen.

The bullet had gone clean through and hadn’t stayed inside. Lucky me.

I poured alcohol straight onto the wound. The pain burned like fire, so bad I nearly cracked my teeth from clenching them.

“Clean it up. Don’t dirty my floor,” he said again, his voice flat.

“Yes, Master Shen.” I forced the words through my teeth, grabbed the gauze, and pressed it hard against the wound.

Cold sweat ran down my temples and blurred my eyes.

Footsteps approached.

He stopped in front of me, the tips of his polished leather shoes entering my lowered line of sight.

My chin tightened as he lifted it with two fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You did well tonight.” There was no praise in his tone. It sounded more like he was stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

My throat went dry. I wanted to speak, but no words came out.

“What reward do you want?” he asked, the pad of his finger unconsciously rubbing at the blood on my chin. It was a little rough, a little ticklish.

He had asked me that question many times.

My answer had always been the same.

Doing things for Master Shen was only right.

But this time was different.

Maybe blood loss had made my head unclear.

Maybe the slight warmth of his fingertip had burned through the hard shell I’d spent ten years building.

Or maybe I, the stray dog he had picked up, finally no longer wanted to do nothing but wag my tail and beg.

I looked at his eyes, so close I could almost touch them. Looked at his thin, merciless lips. Looked at the smear of dark red on his fingertip that belonged to me.

As if possessed, I leaned closer and, quick as a flash, brushed my lips against that bloodstained finger.

“I want you.”

The instant the words left my mouth, even I froze.

The air solidified.

The fingers gripping my chin suddenly tightened, hard enough to nearly crush the bone.

He stared at me, his gaze sharp as a blade, scraping over my face inch by inch, as though he were examining a weapon that had suddenly grown a mind of its own.

Dead silence.

Only my ragged breathing and the drumbeat of my own heart remained.

Then he laughed.

A low sound spilling from deep in his throat, carrying an indescribable meaning.

“All right,” he said.

He released my chin. With his other hand, he picked up the Browning that had been resting beside him and placed it into my hand, still sticky with blood.

The gun still held the warmth of his palm.

“Then kill the person behind you for me.”

His voice was very soft, even carrying a thread of coaxing temptation.

I tightened my grip around the cold gun, my heart jolting, without the slightest hesitation.

Master Shen’s orders did not require thought. They only required execution.

There was someone behind me? When had they come in?

I hadn’t noticed at all.

The threat had to be eliminated immediately.

I spun around, raised the gun, my finger closing over the trigger-

And froze.