The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee
Chapter Twenty-Five
Yuna
After dinner with Tony and Ivy, I head to my room. I take a quick shower, plug my phone in to charge and check for messages before bed. In the U.S. or not, I’m still in charge of the Ivy Foundation for the moment. Even though I told Eugene to run it, I don’t trust him to do a good job, and I don’t want students to suffer because of a disagreement between me and my brother.
On top of that, I know he hasn’t replaced me yet because I haven’t heard from a successor about the transition.
But my mind isn’t on the messages. I’m thinking about how Declan’s hair felt against my fingers when I blow-dried it after he got out of the shower. His shampoo smelled amazing, something minty and woody. It was all I could do to not bury my nose in it and inhale like an addict sniffing glue. And every strand was so soft and silky. Surprising for a guy. Maybe he could do some kind of shampoo commercial. I’d totally buy a bottle.
But then a news article trending high on a Korean news site snags my attention. It mentions the H group, shorthand for Hae Min. Korean news often uses initials to report because of the country’s defamation and privacy laws.
I go back and read it more slowly, wondering what the media vultures are on about.
H group’s daughter-in-law K got into a car crash. The other party was a bike, and the driver is seriously injured. K was rushed to the hospital. The other person in the car with her was also hospitalized. No alcohol was involved. Police are still investigating.
My blood chills. “H group’s daughter-in-law K” is how some reporters refer to Eugene’s wife Sera because her family name is Kwon. Korean women do not take their husband’s name after marriage. My knees shaking, I plop down on the edge of the bed. The article didn’t say the passenger in the car was Eugene. Otherwise it would’ve said K’s spouse H. And it isn’t their son, either, because the article didn’t say it was a child.
I call Eugene to see how he’s holding up. I wish I were in Korea, because this is the kind of stuff you need to be with your family for, even if you had a disagreement. Nothing unites us like a crisis.
The second he picks up, I say, “Are you okay? How about Sera? And little Minho?”
“Your nephew is fine. He was home when the accident happened.” Eugene’s voice is unnaturally calm, which makes me sad for him and his wife, because it demonstrates just how little love they share. If Ivy had been in an accident, Tony would be flipping out.
But then, Eugene never panics. It’s kind of his thing, and why he makes a fantastic executive.
“How can he be fine when his mom’s hurt?” The calmness might serve him well at work, but it makes him a pretty crummy daddy to a little boy who needs the comfort only his parents can give.
“I haven’t told him what’s going on yet. He thinks his mom’s staying with her mother for a while.”
“That’s smart.” Minho’s too young to understand that people don’t die from every little owie. “But what about her injuries?”
Eugene makes a dismissive sound. “Thousands of broken wrists heal without any trouble every day.”
Is that mild irritation in his tone? I know he can be cold, but this is a whole new level. It’s disappointing, even if she can be a bit of a drama queen. “How can you be annoyed? She didn’t mean to get into an accident.”
Eugene breathes out softly. “I’m not annoyed. I’m tired, and now I have another thing I have to handle.”
“She’s your wife.”
He makes a noise in his throat. It’s the one he always makes when he doesn’t necessarily want to agree with you. I don’t understand how he can be so detached. Maybe it’s because their marriage is mainly a business arrangement. After all, the only positive thing he can say about his wife is that they have a son.
My God. This is going to be my future if I don’t hold out.I’m never, ever going to marry one of the dossiers!
“How about the other person in the car? Was it a friend? And the bike rider?” I ask finally, since I know Eugene won’t discuss his wife with me any more.
“Our lawyers are dealing with everything. And the PR team is going to make sure all the articles come down or get buried.”
An uncomfortable lump forms in my belly. “Was she driving drunk?” The article I read said no, but it could’ve been a lie or misreported. I can’t think of any other reason that Eugene would want to keep it quiet, like it never happened.
“No. It’s simply what we decided would be best at the corporate level. Her parents agreed as well.”
That is weird. Her parents also head a rich conglomerate—another chaebol—so I know they aren’t agreeing because they’re being coerced by Eugene. But they want this buried? And when there’s no alcohol involved? It’s a lot of work and expense for basically nothing.
This has to be more than your everyday accident. But Eugene obviously isn’t going to tell me any of the details over the phone.
“Do you need me back?” I ask. No matter what, if something happens with the family, we stick together. On top of that, my sister-in-law might want some support that she isn’t getting from my cold-blooded brother. I’d feel bad about taking time off so soon, but hopefully Declan will understand if I explain the situation.
“There’s no need. Tell me how you’re doing in L.A.”
From Eugene’s slightly warmer tone, I understand he doesn’t want to talk about the crash and he is genuinely curious about my situation here. Maybe he just needs more time to sort it out in his head.
“I’m doing fine,” I say, doing my best to keep my tone casually smug, rather than impatient, because what I really want to do is talk about the accident and how he’s feeling about everything. “I got a job.”
“And a place to stay?” he asks, his tone slightly condescending. He might as well just come out and say, “I know you’re leeching.”
“I’m staying with Ivy and paying rent. So don’t worry. I’m not mooching off her.”
“I didn’t know she was in the rental business.”
That’s where his focus is. Rentals.“She isn’t. She’s making an exception for me. Says it’s dangerous to live alone in an apartment.”
“She’s right. You can’t even walk the streets at night alone safely in Los Angeles.” Unlike Korea, and that’s Eugene’s standard. Mom’s and Dad’s as well.
“Anyway, I’m safe and gainfully employed.”
“If you’ll just come back and see candidate number ninety, you can have your people back.”
And get myself a husband who reacts like he’s bored if I get into an auto accident? No thanks. “If you’d just accept that I’m smart and independent enough to take care of myself…”
“We’ll see how long you last. I say you’ll quit within two months.”
Dream on. You don’t know me well enough if you think I’ll give up that easily.“And I say I won’t. I’ll stick it out and you’ll unfreeze my accounts. And you’ll also give me unlimited access that can never be frozen because I’m not doing this BS again.”
“Then we’ll discuss it after a couple of months.” A short pause. “I have to go to a meeting. I’ll talk with you when you’re ready to wave the white flag.”
I laugh a little. Even if I were thinking about giving up, I’m not doing it after this conversation. “Uh-huh. Have a productive day. I’m going to bed, so I can wake up refreshed and win this bet.”