April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions (51 page)

Naili leads Mayhem onto the floor with us little people. She knows everyone’s names and helps Mayhem hand out the envelopes. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Naili and Mayhem. Some appear to be fascinated while others are less than amused.

“Joolie.” Naili gestures towards Joolie who can hardly stand on her own two feet at this point.

“Tailor.” Naili quickly points another finger to Tailor.

Tailor takes the envelope from Mayhem with a guarded facial expression. Judging from Tailor’s reaction, I don’t know if he recognizes Mayhem or if he’s jealous that his girlfriend is outwardly gaping at Mayhem.

“And the last envelope.” Naili doesn’t say my name when she points to me.

Mayhem hands me my envelope and speaks clearly, “I would like to speak to you after.”

“Oh!” Joolie lets out an inaudible gasp next to me. Her jaw is on the floor. Tailor rolls his eyes at her.

Naili’s eyes narrow at me like daggers.

I take the white envelope from Mayhem slowly. Instinctively, I bite my lower lip. What could he possibly want with me? The morbid thoughts seep in. For some reason, I think Yoon Jaewon might have bought The Trax to force me out of a job. But then again, he is a very busy man. Why would he take the time out to pursue a personal vendetta against me? My biggest crime against him was helping my cousin pay back her debt. Mayhem got to draw blood from Sangwoo in the process too. What more could he want from me?
He’s probably still mad at what happened at the club. You made him talk about his brother getting shot by his rival
. My intuition shrugs as she looks up from her wheel of guesses.

“You know him?” Joolie turns to me when Mayhem and Naili make their way
back to the front.

With careful discretion, I shake my head. Back towards the middle of the room, Naili excuses us. “Thank you everyone. Have a good day.” She turns quickly to capture Mayhem’s attention. They exchange a few words before it becomes apparent that Mayhem dismisses her. Naili throws me a short look before she walks out of the room first.

Slowly, people file out of The Trax. Some are already ripping through the envelopes. Joolie doesn’t want to leave me, but Tailor pulls her to her senses.

“Keep in touch May.” Tailor places a hand on my shoulder.

“Good luck. Call me please,” are Joolie’s last words before Tailor pulls her towards the exit.

As though a dark cloud hovers over me, I look up to catch the penetrating gaze of Mayhem. He is breathtakingly handsome–dark, smoldering, and mystifying. This gang lord always has me in a flurry. No one else makes me feel this way, not even Choi Sangwoo. Is this what attraction feels like?

“There’s a bar down the strip. We can talk there.” Mayhem snaps me out of my reverie.

I
AM LONELY AND SAD.
These are reasons enough for why I decided to follow Mayhem to the bar across the street. It is different with him right away. Unlike Choi Sangwoo, Mayhem doesn’t hide from society and the general public. Instead, he blends in with the shadows created by the light. I am wary of Mayhem’s intent on putting himself out there. Someone who parades out in the open, given his background and title, is not only demonstrating recklessness but also an absence of fear. I am constantly reminding myself that Mayhem is the more violent and unpredictable gang lord. What could he possibly want to talk to me about?

The bar Mayhem chooses, Sine, is an exclusive venue tucked at the very end of the strip. It is a sleepy Wednesday afternoon. The bar is scattered with customers under its dim lustrous lights. Instead of playing loud dance music, Sine displays its sophisticated side with a chorus of classical music gliding through the atmosphere. The décor is white and black furnishing. 

Mayhem strides straight to the bar. I follow him like a lost puppy. Why am I so intrigued with what he has to say?

“What would you like?” The bartender is all over Mayhem like a moth to the flame. He is a big, bald man wearing a white
T-shirt that is a little too tight for his body frame. I wonder indolently if he is gay. The gaze he has on Mayhem is suspicious enough.

“Cognac and tonic on ice,” Mayhem orders with authority. He doesn’t look at me, but implies to the waiter that I am with him.

“And for the lady?” The bartender peels away from Mayhem long enough to acknowledge me.

“Water,” I mumble.

“Water?” Mayhem inclines his head toward me. He lifts an eyebrow. I don’t know if he is interested or curious at my choice. “Just so you know, I can afford to buy you a drink.”

I grimace at his arrogance. “I don’t drink during the day.”

Mayhem’s face darkens shortly, becoming more angular. He holds his tongue as he settles with grace onto the barstool. Very few people in the world have his refinement, yet Mayhem chooses to be a gang lord. I think about the irony for a second.

“Your drinks are on the house.” The bartender smiles brightly at Mayhem before making a hasty retreat.

“I think he likes you.” I am bold and unforgettable.

“I have that effect on men and women,” comes the conceited and shallow response only a gang lord is capable of.

I have the irresistible urge to stick my tongue out at Mayhem. He brings out strange impulses in me. It is bad enough that my head is swimming with thoughts about what Mayhem wants to talk about. Coolly, I slump back on the stool with hunched shoulders. I feel like I am fraternizing with the enemy. The alarming thing is I am not sure that I am. A compelling notion tells me I should confess to Mayhem. I want to tell him that Choi Sangwoo confirmed the truth about shooting his brother. But I am not sure I want to open up that can of worms. I am sure there are probably other misconceptions about him. I am not ready to find out just yet.

“How long has my uncle and Eunhye known each other?” His question grounds me back to reality.

I look back to see the remarkable gang lord gazing at me. Mayhem has his head cocked to the side as he surveys my facial expression. It takes my breath away.
You’re so damn handsome,
my intuition swoons. She doesn’t care about his profession or mercurial personality. All my intuition cares about is Mayhem’s features and appealing presence. He makes her squirm.

“They are childhood friends,” I answer him simply. Slightly surprised that he doesn’t know this, I want to ask Mayhem but hold my tongue.

“Eunhye is not your biological mother,” Mayhem concludes the obvious. “I met your half-sister years ago. It must have been before you came into the family.” The reason behind Mayhem’s question comes to light. When he notices my facial expression, Mayhem states, “You don’t like talking about your family.”

“I don’t like talking about my family with you,” I correct him. The animosity is unattractive, so I add, “There’s nothing to talk about anyway.”

“You’re sad,” Mayhem states. “You’re an innocent, sad, lonely girl.”

“I would like to think about myself as being content and choosing to be a loner, thank you very much,” I refute.

“What about the innocent part?”

“I have an edge to me.”

The corners of Mayhem’s lips curl in amusement. “And what kind of edge are we talking about?”

“I go out . . . clubbing, like you saw that night.”
Yeah, very hardcore May.

“Yeah, you’re a badass.” Mayhem rolls his eyes in the way that only hot and attractive gang lords do.
No, only the way Mayhem does
. My intuition corrects me.

Suddenly, I feel uncomfortable and exposed. “What do you want to talk to me about? The last time I checked, I don’t owe you any more money.”

A sly smile twists across his lips. Mayhem muses at my frank approach. “You think all I care about is money.”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, being one of the richest gang lord’s in the world certainly doesn’t make me casual about monetary funds.”

I am speechless about the size of his ego. Before I can make a comeback, Mayhem continues, “From the shocked look on your face, you didn’t expect that I bought The Trax or had any ties to it.”

Of course. I’ve never seen you step foot inside of it.
“Your point, please.” I am tongue and cheek. If I want to keep this stone façade going, I have to let every single Mayhem charm bounce back as soon as it hits me. I square my shoulders and hunch forward. “Actually, I’m surprised that someone like you with all the money in the world would spend it on such a small venue to uphold your master-of-the-universe plan.” I make it a point to stress the last word.

Light dances in those dark eyes of his. “My master-of-the-universe plan hardly has anything to do with venue investment. It actually has to do with collecting little shrewd girls like you and whipping you into shape.”

Shit.
Did he really say that? My jaw drops into my stomach, but I hold my ground.

“Your drinks.” The bartender is back. He places Mayhem’s carefully concocted drink in front of him before my glass of water.

“Can I have a Gin and Tonic over ice too, please?” I need alcohol if I want to keep up with this gang lord. Who cares that I am barely getting over my sickness.

The bartender flashes Mayhem a look as he waits for approval. After Mayhem’s quick nod, the bartender scurries back to the bar.

Mayhem takes a drink from his glass. He watches me, and the feeling deep inside my stomach rumbles. I think Mayhem’s mouth moves in amusement. His eyes shimmer in the oddest way.

“Is this how you chase after girls?” I’m subjective and curious about him. What does he mean whipping girls like me into shape? Is he some kind of sadomasochist or into some handcuffs, chains, and whips lifestyle? Gang lords must have illegal preferences just like their lifestyles.

Mayhem’s contemplative look says it all. “First of all, I don’t chase after girls. Second, I’m not a girlfriend or wife kind of guy. When I mean whipping little girls like you into shape, I am not going to elaborate. I will let your imagination take you where it needs to go.”

My eyes enlarge without subtlety. I don’t hide the surprise I am experiencing. Mayhem really is too bold for his own good. 

“The reason why you are here, sitting with me, is I am going to offer you a job. I will be opening up a store in place of that poor excuse. I need waitresses for the restaurant section.”

Mayhem is offering me a job? What is going on with these gang lords going after me for my service?

“I’m not interested.”
Wow.
I feel powerful turning down the King.

“Your drink.” The bartender is back. He settles a moon glass in front of me and quickly disappears.

Mayhem waits as I take my first sip of the alcohol. The cool drink refreshes my dry throat. The taste, however, reminds me of that night at Club Groove. Throwing up will probably be more embarrassing in front of Mayhem himself.

“I figured you wouldn’t know how to grasp an opportunity when it is served on a silver platter to you.” Meanwhile, Mayhem casually finishes his drink. He waves the bartender over. In a matter of seconds, the bartender produces a replacement drink.

“I don’t want an opportunity from someone like you,” comes my shrewd reply. To prove my point, I take another mouthful of my drink. Instant courage is what alcohol offers. “You gang lords have an astronomical complex mixture of jerk, control freak, and obsessive compulsive in you. I don’t want anything to do with that.” The pent-up annoyance is freely flowing through me.

A low, alluring chuckle escapes his lips. “Oh, someone is bitter.” Mayhem’s implied reference to Choi Sangwoo stirs something inside of me. He cocks his head to the side, leveling his penetrating gaze on me. “Played with a wolf and got bitten by his lies, didn’t you?”

I swallow the anger that has absorbed. I don’t want Mayhem to know that he is right, but then again I don’t want to refute the truth. It is a double conundrum with this man. So I do the only thing I can; I finish off my drink. The momentary sting of the alcohol makes me forget it all.

Mayhem lets out a low chuckle as he observes me. Enjoying the fact that he is under my skin, Mayhem leans forward. His voice becomes husky as he asks me, “Let me guess, he promised you the whole world, but wants you to play by his rules only. You believed until you found out that his true interest in you is based on fabrication.”

There is a knot in my throat. I don’t know how long I can handle this type of scrutiny. Gang lord and mind reader?

“I warned you about him, didn’t I?” There is a drawl to his voice. If I didn’t know better, I would think Mayhem actually cares.

“I didn’t come here for you to tell me what I did wrong,” I hiss with disapproval. Who does he think he is?

“Then why are you here?” Mayhem asks softly.

Oh shit.
My breath is stuck in my throat.
He’s giving me that panties-off look!
My intuition doesn’t know what to do. I finally squeak, “For the free alcohol.”

“Of course.” He finds me hilarious. Casually, Mayhem takes another sip of his drink. He motions to the bartender. “Another round of Gin and Tonic.” Mayhem’s voice is domineering. “Let me give you some advice. When a gang lord pursues you, you should always be careful of his ulterior motive. When gang lord two warns you about gang lord one, you should think twice before walking away from gang lord one. I’m not telling you what you did wrong. I’m doing you a favor by giving you a forewarning about the world you are walking into.”