Twinges pulled the veins at the temples of the man as soon as he sat down. The terrible headache that affected him didn’t allow his drunken brain to locate immediately. He tightened his eyelids. Sighed. And opened his eyes again. Silk curtains the color of the wine he'd drunk the night before draped the huge glass window. Gradually, his brown eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Na-moo Hwang was naked, he realized by lowering his sight to his body. A sheet of Egyptian fabric covered him from the hip down, his torso covered with muscles were exposed. With a sigh, the brown-haired man looked the wide room with his gaze thoroughly. The dark linoleum floor, the exaggerated mirror next to the bed hiding the closet, the red and round chandelier matching the walls and the extravagant curtains… He was not in his tiny apartment. And he didn't have to look away to know that a woman with small eyes, well-designed lips and a tiny spot below her right eyebrow, was lying beside him naked with the blonde hair strewn over the pillow.

Na-moo cursed and stood up, knocking down the sheet that covered him on the cold ground at his feet, and searched for the clothes he was wearing last night. Without making a sound, he collected each of the pieces and groped the pocket of the jeans in search of the phone.

Fifteen missed calls and twenty messages greeted him when unlocking the screen—ten calls were from his mother and five from Hector. He didn't even bother to snoop through the messages, the time on the screen was enough for him to know that they all had to be from his friend. Na-moo Hwang was fucking late for work, and not any day, but the day they had a meeting with Captain Denyel—his partner would kill him when he got to the police station.

Dammit. How could he forget to turn the alarm on to wake him up?

He opened the closet door—his own reflection seemed to judge him—and took a towel. Na-moo didn't like to act as if he were at home or in the home of some lover, since he wasn't. However, he had no time to reflect on his moral dilemmas, so he rushed to reach the bathroom in the opposite corner of the room. The fluorescent light made his pupils burn, and he closed his eyes after turning on the shower. The bathroom was too white, a blinding contrast to the dense bedroom for someone who had just woken up with a hangover.

More bad words floated in his mind as he tried to remember how he ended up naked in Sol's bed once again, after promising himself that the twentieth time would be the last. Not that he was counting for stingy or perverted reasons, but his subconscious reproached him every time he ended up there to relieve his frustrations, and it bothered him.

The guilt crushed him, even though he knew that his long-time friend was the one who suggested for them to do it in a drunkenness they had together a few months ago. Sol was eccentric, as were the clothes she wore and the decor she enjoyed. Relationships were out of her league because the cosmetics company she ran was at the height of success, expanding branches in other states. And her priority was to expand the brand until it reached other countries, personal life could wait. In addition, whenever she got involved with someone, she ended up getting tired of the person and when Sol didn't have the patience to look for someone to solve her physical needs, she looked for her old friend for a night of casual sex.

Both won, according to the blonde-haired… except for Na-moo's guilty conscience, of course. And the fact that last night he was the one who sought her out, made him feel even worse. Perhaps he should blame his mother for forcing him to go on another blind date, literally. The reservation made in his name was in a restaurant for singles, where all candidates for “couples” entered blindfolded and could remove the veil only after dessert. The restaurant's proposal was for future couples to arouse each other's interest based on their personalities rather than appearance.

Na-moo took a deep breath. Yvone Hwang thought that her son's appearance was what kept him single?

With his 186 cm height, dark strands at the height of his ears and sculptural body, he easily caught people's attention. And if it weren't enough, the dimples on his cheeks would certainly work; all he had to do was smile to enhance his natural charm.

However, as he couldn't deny Mrs. Hwang's requests, Na-moo ended up going to the date, only to see a fire being lit on his jacket before having a chance to try the starter dish and the overpriced wine that his mother had reserved in his name. Na-moo was sure that the soot smell in Sol's room came from his partially burned jacket. At least It wasn't his skin.

He would never, ever, forget the face of that woman who managed to be clumsier than he once was during his teenage years. That was (definitely) the worst date of his life. And with his jacket wet by the fire extinguisher and the water thrown in his face when he had already taken off his jacket and thrown on the floor to put out the fire, Na-moo ended up sitting on one of the benches at the Mints Pub, where Sol found him drinking alone. And… well… he ended up in her pants after mixing whiskey with tequila, wine, and God knows what else. Yohan should have stopped him.

Resigned, he closed the shower and wiped his locks. It was no use to dwell on what had happened or beating himself up for waking up next to the blonde-haired woman. He had bigger problems than a pathetic date, and sex with his friend, rolling in his life.

Like mysterious murders, followed by suicides of members of the same family as the murdered victims, which he needed to investigate even though there were no clues that could lead them to a possible suspect. And of course, the fact that he was late.

If Hector didn't kill him, the captain’s sermon would.

✛✛

Na-moo jumped out of the car in a hurry, swallowing a long sip of the espresso coffee he bought as he left Sol's place. The blonde-haired had a heavy and enviable sleep, she did not move a muscle while he dressed in a hurry and ran out like a delinquent running from the police—almost forgetting his badge. Hector would skin him alive, already for been late because he got drunk on a Wednesday, so imagine if he also showed up without his badge.

As if he had felt the presence of Hwang, the man with brown hair, seven centimeters shorter, appeared behind the tables they shared in the violent crimes division—in the back of the Longino Police Department¹. The closed expression, the tight eyes, and the wrinkled lips, made clear the disapproval in Hector Brown's face.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you and end up in a cell for it.”

“Um… I had a terrible night?”

“The kind that made a certain hot blonde comfort you?”

“Hec… I almost caught fire!”

“I know what kind of fire got you, Moo. I hate you. Fucking with a hot blonde, while I was dealing with the problems!”

“Seriously?!” Na-moo exclaimed loud. “You're always jumping from bed to bed, like a cat, I don't understand why you're mad.”

“The bed I'd like to fall into is hard to seduce!”

Na-moo rolled his eyes, slapping his partner on the head before throwing his jacket on the table. He barely had time to change when he ran past his own flat before going to the police station. He was sure that his black threads were disheveled.

“Is Denyel very angry?”

“What do you think?”

Na-moo checked his watch. They were an hour late. Shit. He would have to work overtime to avoid having his salary deducted, yet nothing would save him from the captain's lecture and grumpy face.

“The old man has a surprise for us, according to Gina.” Hector warned by crossing his arms over his chest before shooting Na-moo with his gaze. “She made it clear that he only wanted to talk to us once, so I didn't even dare step into his office without you.”

That explained the calls, the desperate messages, and the deadly look on his face.

The two of them walked regretfully to the office at the end of the hall. The gray shutters were closed, blocking the view from inside the room. Na-moo stuck his hands in the pockets of the jeans to disguise his nervousness when Hector opened the door.

The first thing Na-moo did when putting his feet on the brown carpet was open his mouth to delay the sermon, however when he saw the smile on the white-haired lord's face lifting the gray whiskers, he frowned. The old man never received him so enthusiastic after a delay.

“Well, finally the best detectives in this department have given me the honor of their presence!” Denyel stood up, widening his smile with yellow teeth. “Detective Brown, Detective Hwang, meet Miss Amélie Zhou.”

Na-moo's eyes went in the direction in which the chief gestured, where the woman was sitting in front of the table.

The penetrating gaze, the dark wavy strands, the tiny spot above the left jaw line, the marked lip filter… the tanned skin… Na-moo would never forget that face.

And the jacket in which she set fire.

The woman's whisky-brown eyes almost jumped out of the holes when she saw the detective. She was staring at him as stunned as he looked at her. Their jaws fell even more when they heard the words that came out of the captain's mouth:

“Miss Zhou will be working with both of you starting today!”