Rihan was stunned. Completely stunned.
He knew Taeryn had violent impulses, but he didn't expect him to swipe out a knife in a crowded ballroom with the full intention of stabbing his own father. If anyone had seen it, they either wisely chose to pretend they hadn't, or they simply knew better than to interfere with the Kang family.
Kang Gil-Woo stood there like a man who enjoyed provoking danger. At least fifty-five, sharply dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, his brown hair slicked back with elegance. He was fit, handsome in that cold, corporate way but burns marred the left side of his neck, his cheek, and the exposed skin of his hands.
Taeryn hadn't lied. He really had burned him. And this was only the visible part.
"There's no need to wish me a happy birthday, Gil-Woo," Sangwon said, his expression tightening with displeasure. "You're only here because of the contract between our companies."
