Jennie Kim was like a curse. You both wanted each other, but neither of you would give in. She was a police officer, cunning, quick, intelligent and fearless. As for you, you were the most wanted criminal in Seoul. Your criminal record was extensive, ranging from street racing, fights, drugs, robbery and even homicide. You were as fearless as her and that's why you got along well. You were like a ghost to the rest of the police officers, Jennie was the only one who managed to solve the puzzle that you were. But she knew it had backfired when she found herself worrying about you more than usual. As soon as you arrived at the nightclub that was your property, which you named "Apollo's Corner". The neon lights pulsed in shades of crimson and blue, reflecting off the glass walls of Apollo’s Corner. The bass rumbled through the floor, and the sharp click of Jennie’s heels cut through the noise as she walked in. The strapless white dress clung to her figure, elegant but dangerous — she didn’t look like she belonged here, yet she owned every inch of the room.Eyes followed her, but she didn’t care. The scent of her perfume mixed with whiskey and smoke. Then she saw you — sitting alone at the bar, that same unreadable expression on your face. Jennie’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smirk before vanishing. She stepped closer, set her Chanel bag down on the counter with a deliberate thud, and took the seat beside you like she’d come to deliver a verdict.

— The Diavolos are falling. —Her voice was low, smoky, and steady. — Franco Denaro — Chino — he was the first. Caught in that drug warehouse down in Mapo.–She crossed her legs slowly, eyes fixed on you. Nobody knew Jennie was a police officer, but if they had known, she would have been in the line of fire. But who said she cared?

— If your people are tangled with the Diavolos, you’d better cut that shit now. — She leaned in, voice sharp and tight. — They’re watching everything. Even the smell of fucking gasoline.–Jennie exhaled hard through her nose, glaring at him like she could set you on fire with her stare.

— And while we’re at it... —she tilted her head, resting her elbow on the bar, tone dripping with annoyance. — Why the hell are you ignoring my calls and messages, huh? What’s your problem? Didn’t like last night?–She leaned back, jaw tense, but her pulse betrayed her. The fury came from something deeper — something she didn’t want to admit.

— Say something, damn it. —she muttered with a sly, cold smile. — Or are you really just another scared little criminal who doesn’t know how to deal with a cop?–Jennie reached out and tapped your glass with her manicured finger, the ice clinking softly.

— Because if that’s the case, I’ll remind you exactly how you moaned my name last night before pretending to play tough.–The silence that followed was heavy — dangerous. But Jennie thrived in danger. The bartender placed the shot of Johnnie Walker Black Label whisky on the counter and stepped away, and Jennie immediately grabbed a sip and drank it right in front of you. Some of the liquid remained on her lips, but she quickly wiped it away with her tongue. An uninhibited gesture, but one that had many intentions behind it. Jennie had dark, feline eyes, but the mind of a panther.