Crawling forward, he peered through the grates lining the tunnels. Most rooms seemed ordinary—empty guest quarters or storage spaces—but then, something caught his eye. Through one of the grates, Vladimir strolled casually down the hallway below, heading toward his own quarters.
Beom froze, his breath catching as Vladimir paused just outside his door. He watched as Vladimir reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote. With a press of a button, a soft mechanical whirr sounded from within the room. Beom's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of what looked like a hidden compartment opening behind a bookshelf.
"Bingo," Beom whispered, his pulse racing.
"So the answers are in his room. But how the hell am I supposed to get in there?" he thought, biting his lip. His mind raced through options, each one seeming riskier than the last.
His eyes widened slightly as Vladimir entered the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Beom shifted slightly to get a better view through another vent, noting how Vladimir inspected the hidden compartment briefly before closing it again with the remote.
"Great. Not only do I have to break into a mafia tycoon's room, but I also have to figure out how to get past a freaking remote-controlled lock. No pressure, Beom. None at all."
As Vladimir exited the room and walked down the hallway, Beom made a decision. "I need to talk to Sasha. This is way above my solo pay grade. Besides, if I mess this up, at least I'll have someone else to share the blame with."
He hurried back through the vents, wincing at every creak and groan. As he neared his assigned room, his heart skipped a beat when he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.
"Oh no. He's coming to my room. Why? Why does this always happen to me?"
Beom barely managed to slip back out of the vent into the bathroom, his heart hammering in his chest. Dust coated his palms and knees, but the sudden realization of approaching footsteps snapped him into action. His mind raced. "Shit, shit, shit! What do I do?" Spotting the shower, he made a snap decision. Yanking off his clothes, he tossed them into the corner and turned the water on. The warm spray hit his skin as he stepped under it, feigning nonchalance while his pulse refused to settle.
On the other side of the door, Vladimir entered the room, his polished shoes clicking softly against the wooden floor. He looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on the bathroom door. His brows furrowed. A faint smirk crossed his lips as he pulled out a spare key.
"Of course he has a key," Beom thought, rolling his eyes at the faint jingle of metal outside. "Who doesn't want a surprise visit from a mafia kingpin while showering?"
The door creaked open just as Beom turned off the water and stepped out, completely naked and dripping wet. He swung the door open himself, revealing a startled Vladimir standing frozen in the doorway, the spare key still in his hand.
Vladimir's eyes darted downward before quickly snapping back up to Beom's face, his expression a mix of shock and embarrassment. "Oh," Vladimir stammered, chuckling nervously as a faint pink dusted his cheeks. "I didn't know you were...uh, in here."
Beom raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, really? You didn't know I was in the bathroom? I'm sorry, did the sound of the running water not tip you off?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed a towel and casually wrapped it around his waist, water still glistening on his skin. "Or is this some new kind of hospitality where you break into your guests' bathrooms unannounced?"
Vladimir cleared his throat, his eyes awkwardly flitting around the room, but every so often they strayed back to Beom's form. "No, no, it's not like thready" Vladimir said quickly, fumbling for words. "I just wanted to tell you dinner is ready, and, uh, you should come downstairs."
Beom leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement caused a droplet of water to slide from his collarbone, and Vladimir 's gaze followed it briefly before he caught himself. "So," Beom said slowly, narrowing his eyes, "this was so urgent you couldn't just wait five minutes for me to finish, huh?"
Vladimir's nervous chuckle returned, but he couldn't meet Beom's eyes. "I, uh, didn't think it would be a problem…"
"Didn't think it would be a problem," Beom echoed, his tone flat. "Right. So, breaking into my bathroom while I'm stark naked isn't a problem. Got it." He raised a brow and tilted his head. "Tell me, Vladimir, do you do this with all your guests, or am I just special?"
"I assure you, it wasn't my intention to—"
"To what? Catch me in the buff?" Beom interrupted, giving Vladimir an incredulous look. "Look, I get it. I'm a very attractive man. But if you wanted a peek, you could've just asked. No need for the sneaky mafia routine."
Vladimir 's composure faltered further. He took a step back, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. "I'm...going to let you get dressed now," he muttered, turning toward the door.
"Good idea," Beom replied dryly, stepping aside to give Vladimir space to leave. "And next time, maybe try knocking? You know, like a normal human being. It's this really revolutionary concept."
Vladimir nodded quickly and practically bolted from the room, his usual confident swagger nowhere to be seen. Beom waited until the door closed before letting out a deep breath. He was trembling as he fell onto the chair...
"That was close" Beom muttered
Beom barely had time to steady his nerves after the bathroom incident before he found himself walking into the lavish dining hall. The chandeliers above sparkled like diamonds, and the polished mahogany table stretched nearly the length of the room, laden with an extravagant array of dishes.
Sasha, of course, was already there, leaning back in his chair with his usual air of nonchalance, casually nibbling on a piece of roasted duck. His sharp blue eyes flicked up for a moment to glance at Beom before returning to his plate. Beom's gaze shifted to the man sitting further down the table—a middle-aged, sharply dressed man with a hawk-like nose and piercing dark eyes. "This must be Namjoon," Beom thought, noting the calculated way the man studied everyone in the room.
Before Beom could fully take in the scene, Vladimir's voice boomed, drawing his attention. "Ah, there you are, my dear friend! Come, sit by me," Vladimir said, patting the seat next to him with an exaggerated smile.
Beom forced a polite grin, masking the irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "Great. Just what I needed. Alone time with the creep," he thought, pulling out the chair and sitting down beside Vladimir. As soon as he did, Vladimir 's hand briefly rested on his shoulder—a gesture that made Beom's skin crawl—but he managed to keep his composure.
"Do try the roast lamb," Vladimir said with a charming smile that Beom found anything but. "It's one of my chef's specialties."
Beom picked up his fork and took a bite of the lamb, chewing thoughtfully. To his surprise, the food was excellent, tender and seasoned to perfection. "Okay, I'll admit, the man has good taste in chefs," he thought. But just as he was about to take another bite, he caught a sharp exchange of glances between Namjoon and Sasha.
Namjoon suddenly stood, smoothing his jacket. "Excuse me," he said in a deep, measured voice before leaving the room with a purposeful stride.
Sasha followed suit not long after, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and standing with an air of mock formality. "Mr. Popov, I must say, you have excellent cooks. This food is superb," he said with a smirk. "But unfortunately, I find myself lacking an appetite tonight. If you'll excuse me." He nodded to Vladimir and then cast a fleeting glance at Beom before walking out.
Beom watched Sasha's retreating figure with a sinking feeling. "Of course. Now I'm stuck here with Vladimir the Perv and a pile of awkwardness." He sighed inwardly. "Sasha better be doing something useful, or I'm going to strangle him later."
Vladimir's smile widened as Sasha left, and he turned his full attention to Beom, making the younger man tense slightly. "Ah, finally, some quiet. Now, we can enjoy each other's company without distractions," Vladimir said smoothly, pouring himself another glass of wine.
Beom gave a stiff smile, focusing on his plate. "Right...quiet," he muttered under his breath.
"So, Beom," Vladimir began, his voice dripping with faux charm, "you are quite the intriguing individual. Handsome, intelligent, and mysterious. A rare combination."
"Here we go," Beom thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Thanks, I guess?" he said, his tone flat as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth to avoid talking further.
Vladimir chuckled, leaning in slightly. "You know, I couldn't help but notice earlier—your confidence, your wit...and now, seeing you up close, your physique is equally impressive."
Beom froze mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly. "What the hell is this guy's angle?" he thought. He swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Uh, I work out," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Vladimir's hand casually drifted under the table, resting far too close to Beom's thigh for comfort. Beom's body stiffened immediately, his pulse quickening. The older man's fingertips brushed against his leg, and Beom's mind screamed in protest. "Oh, no. Nope. Absolutely not."
"You have such a commanding presence," Vladimir continued, his voice low. "I imagine many people find you...irresistible."
Beom's lips twitched in an unamused smile. "Yeah, well, I imagine many people find you downright repulsive," he thought bitterly. Aloud, he cleared his throat and leaned back slightly, attempting to subtly move his leg away. "That's...very kind of you to say," he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
Vladimir, undeterred, leaned closer, his hand pressing firmly against Beom's thigh now. Beom's eyes widened, and his jaw clenched. "Is this guy serious right now? Does he think I'm just going to sit here and let him grope me like a damn mannequin?!"
Beom forced a laugh, shifting his leg abruptly to the side and causing Vladimir's hand to slide off. "You know," he said, his voice dripping with fake cheer, "I think I ate too much. Feeling a bit...bloated." He patted his stomach for emphasis, giving Vladimir a pointed look. "Maybe I should go lie down for a bit."
Vladimir chuckled nervously, his predatory demeanor faltering for a moment. "Of course, of course. Rest is important," he said, sitting back and picking up his wine glass.
Beom stood, forcing himself to remain calm as he pushed in his chair. "If Sasha doesn't have a solid lead by the time I get to the room, I swear I'm going to punch him. Or maybe Vladimir. Both are great options."