Behind the Azalea Heist Series

Scene 1: An Azalea

"My customer is a big fan of traditional Korean art, and he has taken a liking in a Min Kyungkap," the beauty said.

"An Azalea," Taehyung assumed, given that this work was the most magnificent painting of Min in traditional Korean style. Jin's lips curled into a knowing smile.

"I see. You're perfectly informed. He indeed wants that picture. It's currently-"

"Well-stowed in the archives of the MMCA," Taehyung interrupted. "And to call it a picture would be like calling Michelangelo's David a nice experiment with marble." Jin might deal with art, but in the beauty's eyes a painting was just money, nothing more.

His friend grinned crookedly and took a sip from Taehyung's drink before he placed it on the table. Taehyung had almost forgotten about it. "There is a reason I loved to work with you."

"Love, not loved. You made me an offer just now, didn't you?" he corrected the older.

Jin's smile fell. "No, Tae. As long as you're on the leash, I've got nothing to do for you."

Taehyung frowned. Had his Hyung not just said that he wanted him for a job? Had he heard something wrong? This was making no sense, and that irritated him. The older was playing with his pride. "Jin, what do you want?" he asked bluntly.

"I want him gone," the personal shopper replied with a hard face. "My customer is a disease to this country, to this world. I want you to bring him behind bars, because that's where he belongs."

Taehyung snorted, half amused, half concerned. Jin had many customers that had anything but a white vest, so the man must have done something really bad to make the personal shopper rat out one of his wealthy money givers.

"Who is he?" Taehyung asked and finally sipped on his Matcha milk.

"Choi Ahoon," the older said and reached inside his jacket to get out one of his business cards. "He did not set a time limit; he just wants the work. Think about it and call me if you want the job."

Taehyung watched the personal shopper getting up and straightening his outfit. "How much?" he asked when Jin had averted his honey-brown eyes back to him.

"He's willing to pay one and a half million."

"Won?" Taehyung asked in disbelieve, not daring to think bigger.

"Dollar." Jin smirked and buttoned his jacket. "My provision excluded, so it's all yours if you want it."

Taehyung took a deep breath, then he grinned. Suga would love this.

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"Taehyung," superintendent Kim Namjoon mumbled without looking up from his screen when Taehyung entered his office. The ebony hair of the policeman was styled in a soft bow, revealing his forehead and making him look an elegant version of determined. The anthracite suit jacket hung over the backrest of the ergo dynamic office chair and the older had loosened his tie. His boring tie. Taehyung always felt the urge to buy the man a set of at least bearable neckties. The yellow monster that dangled around the slim neck right now should only be used to polish shoes.

"Namjoon Hyung," he greeted his watchdog back. He never had asked the other if he might use his first name, he simply did. After a two-year chase around the world and Namjoon eventually closing his handcuffs around Taehyung's wrists, they knew more about each other than any normal friend might.

"What do you want? There are cases of fraud and embezzlement waiting for you," the ebony-haired mumbled, still fixated on his screen. Namjoon was not cold or impolite, he just used to forget what etiquette meant by getting absorbed into work like it was his life elixir. Sometimes Taehyung was almost sure that work was everything that kept Kim Namjoon running. The man seemed to spend more time in this small twelve square-meter room than at home. At least the view was great. The Yongsan office was a glass building, an architecture Taehyung was grateful for, otherwise he would have already aged drastically from bad coffee and air so sticky one could taste it.