Desire Chapter 18 - No Matter What It Takes (2)

Chapter 18 – No Matter What It Takes (2)

Gomorrah was the hottest spot to party for people in their twenties.

It was located in the bas.e.m.e.nt of a hotel not far from Apgujeong Station.

Unsurprisingly, the hotel was also owned by President Seo Minho.

Though she was going there to interview him, she couldn't just walk in such a place in her black two-piece suit.

She left her home wearing a light-colored jacket with her suit pants.

Her mind was crammed with thoughts as she went her way to the club.

She took notes on her cell phone, selecting only the necessary information needed for the interview.

That late evening, there was a long line of men and women waiting at the club entrance while music pounded around them.

They were all dressed up in the latest fashion, flaunting their bodies and exuding s.e.xual energy.

Jiyeon couldn't get close to the club entrance and made a phone call.

"Are you here?"

"Yeah, I've arrived. How do I get in?"

"Can't you just walk in?"

She looked over at a large, muscular man guarding the entrance.

Only after he confirmed that a person's appearance and fashion were over a certain standard did he allow them inside.

Jiyeon glanced down her outfit and realized she wouldn't be allowed through.

"I'll send someone."

A few minutes later a man, presumably sent by Minho, came out of the club.

She didn't know how, but he recognized Jiyeon immediately and approached her.

"Prosecutor Cha Jiyeon?"

"Yes, that's me."

"The president is waiting. Please come this way."

The man, whose hair and tightly fitted suit were both silver in color, went inside the club.

Jiyeon followed.

The night club was a different world.

Her heart pounded to the roar of the music.

Flashing laser lights cut fissures in the air, and the bodies of young men and women writhed on the dance floor as they burned the night away.

It was an overwhelming atmosphere for Jiyeon, even when she had partied with her friends at Hongdae bars in her college days.

The silver-suited man guided Jiyeon deeper and deeper into the club.

They pa.s.sed the stage, entered through a long hallway, turned a corner, then came across a door that seemed to be the secret heart of the club Gomorrah.

"Go inside."

The man opened the door and a completely different atmosphere emerged from the room.

Jiyeon entered and the man closed the door outside.

The room was an old-fashioned study, with books filling the shelves everywhere.

If it not were for the sound of music leaking through the door, no one would think this place was inside a club.

Minho sat on a leather armchair and held a cigar in his mouth like a mob boss.

A mob boss with neatly combed hair and a vest.

As far as first impressions go it was no longer intimidating.

He sat up and gestured to the opposite chair.

"Sit, prosecutor."

Jiyeon sat on the chair, grimacing at the smell of acrid smoke.

"Would you like one?"

Minho picked up a thick cigar and held it out to Jiyeon.

"I don't smoke."

"Cigars are not the same as cigarettes."

"It's fine."

"You don't like to try anything new."

"I'm not looking to."

Jiyeon came to investigate Minho, but Minho was looking at Jiyeon as if he were observing her.

"It's very late, so let's get to the point."

"Alright. How about you ask one question, and I'll ask one back. Is that fair?"

"You're asking me questions?"

"Yes. I have a lot of them."

"I'm sorry, but I have to conduct this interview and you can ask your questions later–"

"If you do not accept my terms, then I refuse to say anything."

What a selfish and stubborn man.

There was no point in arguing about it, so she took a strategic compromise.

"Okay. I'll ask the first question then, is that alright?"

"Yes."

Jiyeon held out a photo in front of his smug expression.

"Do you own this model of motorcycle?"

The first question was to test his att.i.tude for telling the truth.

Minho nodded as he looked at the photo.

"Yes. It's a limited edition bike. There aren't that many of them in Korea and I was the second customer."

Not lying, was he?