"Fox Jun! Come on! We're going to lunch!"

"Just a minute, Boss," Ewon said with no little irritation, "I have to answer this email."

His fingers clacked across the keyboard efficiently as he made a careful, polite reply to the client. Having his desk in Mookyul's office was the worst idea ever, but his possessive boyfriend would have it no other way. Between the gorgeous man's demands for his attention and unashamed leering, Ewon found it hard to concentrate, daily.

"Okay, done!" He sent the email.

"Finally!" Mookyul growled and dragged him out of the office. They got in the BMW and took off toward one of the finest restaurants in the city.

"You know, Boss, I have a lot of work to do," Ewon said, knowing Mookyul probably wouldn't listen, but it felt good just to let out his pent up frustration. "I assume that's why you gave me more responsibilities after I graduated, so I could do more work."

"This is work," Mookyul said matter-of-factly, "We're meeting with a Japanese businessman to discuss a possible deal. As the international economics major, I thought you'd be interested."

"Oh." His anger ebbed then reignited. "Why didn't you tell me before? I have nothing prepared to even-"

"Cool it, Fox Jun, he didn't give me any details. He's the kind of bastard who likes to keep the upper hand, even when it's inconvenient for everyone else." He lit a cigarette and glowered at the road.

"Why aren't the guys coming with us?" Ewon asked nervously.

"Ah, he's a personal friend . . . of sorts." He kept his eyes on the road and inhaled deeply.

"Right," Ewon said, not convinced.

"Was that attitude, Fox Jun?"

Ewon mumbled something about "dumb gangster fucks" before turning away and looking out the window.

They entered the fancy restaurant after Mookyul gave the car keys to the valet with a warning glare.

"He's at a corner table, why doesn't that surprise me," Mookyul muttered more to himself than Ewon as they approached the front desk.

Ewon followed his gaze to a young man close to his own age who sat at a table toward the back of the room. He wore a t-shirt and chatted animatedly with the broad-shouldered man next to him, who wore what Ewon's discerning eye could tell was a very expensive suit. Both men were, in Ewon's opinion, rather good-looking. Were all Japanese men like that? Something bothered him, though.

"Why is his bodyguard dressed better than he is?" Ewon's scandalized whisper broke Mookyul out of his reverie. He doubled-over and covered his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. Ewon assumed he had guessed wrong.

Mookyul eventually recovered and growled "The Asami party," to the waiting server, who led them back immediately.

"Asami," Mookyul said with a curt nod before sitting down at the table.

"Mookyul," Asami replied amusedly.

"Hello, I'm Ewon," Ewon said, offering his hand to both Asami and the younger man before sitting down to make up for Mookyul's apparent rudeness.

"Nice to meet you," the younger man beside Asami said nervously.

Asami noticed Takaba's face was a distinct shade of pink as he surreptitiously studied the two Koreans across the table; wonder laced with hunger graced his cute, expressive face. Asami smirked. That would not do, at all; he would address that, at length, in their hotel room that evening.

"Who's the kid, anyway?" Mookyul grunted. Asami returned his attention to the rest of the table.

"This is Takaba, my lover."

Takaba turned bright red and glared at the older man, caught off-guard.

"What?" Mookyul laughed. "How is that physically possible?" he glanced at the smaller man incredulously, "You must rip—mmf!" Ewon clapped his hand over Mookyul's mouth in a desperate, embarrassed attempt to keep the situation from deteriorating any further. He could have died. Takaba looked mortified, Asami, amused.

"I apologize, he . . . has . . .he's an idiot," Ewon gasped finally, not able to come up with a convincing lie so quickly. Suddenly, Mookyul's tongue laved his fingers.

"Boss!" he snatched his hand away quickly, "that's gross!" his snapped as his face warmed up.

"That's not what you were saying last night, li'l Fox."

While Ewon was busy inhaling all available oxygen in the restaurant, Mookyul grabbed one of his hands and held it in his on the table top.

"Is this another victim of your drunken gropings?" Asami taunted.

"I was the victim in your case," Mookyul shot back venomously.

"Like I was going to tolerate a punk like you rubbing-"

"I'm with him for good," Mookyul snapped, cutting Asami off hurriedly.

"So I see," Asami said dryly as Ewon attempted to yank his hand free. He glanced at Akihito to see if he shared his amusement, and was startled to see his young lover watching him curiously. Asami sensed danger and got right down to business.

"I need you to identify this woman for me." He handed the photo to Mookyul. The Korean started and flipped over the photo of the battered, swollen face.

"Shit, Asami, warn me! You said this was a business deal!" Mookyul raged. He had been tricked!

"We believe she's Korean," Asami continued, ignoring him.

"There are a hell of a lot of women in Korea, Asami, and I don't pay attention to any of them."

Asami narrowed his eyes. "Try. It's possible she may have gang ties."

"What's that supposed to mean," Mookyul growled, "I run a legitimate business."

Ewon choked back a laugh and earned a glare from his lover. Asami bit back a smile and waited patiently. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Takaba was practically vibrating in his seat from the suspense.

With a sigh and a quick glance around, Mookyul flipped the photo over and studied it. At first, she didn't look familiar, but then something turned in the pit of his stomach as a certain resemblance bubbled up slowly from the archives in his brain. He put the picture face down on the table top.

"Hang on." He pulled out his smart phone and began an internet search. All too soon, he found what he was looking for and put the image on the screen. He compared it to the photo in his hand. "Shit." He handed both to Asami.

Takaba leaned over to look and Asami shifted closer to let him. After several seconds, Asami exchanged looks with Takaba, who nodded grimly. He handed the phone back to Mookyul.

"Who is she?" he asked heavily, knowing from Mookyul's expression that it wasn't good.

"Maya, Inha Kim's daughter."

"Shit."