The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Forty-One

Yuna

I wake up feeling well rested. I guess I was tired from the lack of sleep two nights ago and all the mother-induced tension, because I passed out the second I hit the bed.

Since Mom and I are having facials, I put on my lightest makeup. But I take extra care with my outfit because it’s going to bug her if I don’t look my best. And it’ll bother me if she’s unhappy.

Ms. Lim texts me to expect ninety minutes of treatment. She doesn’t bother to ask if that’s okay with me. Obviously, Mom’s already decided I need emergency help.

Mr. Choi picks me up. “Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood don’t own a Lamborghini, do they?” he asks oh-so casually as I get in the car.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“Just curious.”

Just curious, my butt.“Don’t you already have a list of all the cars they own?”

“Of course. But they could’ve bought a new one. I don’t want to misreport anything should I spot a Lamborghini. The man last night had one.”

I sigh. “You don’t have to worry about Declan. He and I aren’t breaking any laws.”

“Just following orders.”

“That defense quit working after the Second World War,” I mutter.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” It isn’t Mr. Choi’s fault Mom’s being so controlling. She’s probably flabbergasted that I’ve managed to survive without a bodyguard or an assistant for three weeks.

When I arrive at the Aylster, Ms. Kim’s waiting in the lobby. She takes me to the spa on the seventh floor. Mom’s already in a gown and sipping a glass of herbal tea. A spa receptionist is answering her questions.

I change and let Mom choose the treatment, since it’s her money and she’s determined to get my skin back to its usual condition. But for me, this facial isn’t even about my skin. I just miss being pampered and having time to de-stress. The masseuse expertly strokes and massages away all the tension in my face and scalp, which makes me feel more optimistic about life in general.

After we’re done, I apply some makeup. I’m impressed with the spa staff—they’ve left me absolutely glowing. And that mud scrub mask was the bomb.

I go to a huge resting area, which is empty at the moment, and take a table. A uniformed spa receptionist brings out a cup of warm herbal tea that will apparently help me to “detox.” I don’t really think I’m toxic, but the tea is good.

Mom joins me minutes later and receives a cup of tea as well. “We should go shopping,” she says after a few moments. “You need new clothes and shoes. Possibly some accessories, too. I can’t believe Eugene deprived you the way he did.”

I shrug. “It wasn’t too terrible. I mean, other than not having a car, not having a driver, not having any money to buy gifts for Ivy and Tony’s babies, and not having a bodyguard to stop a crazy woman from attacking me. Aside from those tiny incon—”

“Somebody attacked you?” Mom’s eyes are wide and her voice is awful.

Oh, crap.Now she’s going to want to know who it was. Even if I lie about it—well, not exactly lie, but withhold certain information, like who Ella really is, so Mom won’t consider Declan guilty by association—Mom’s going to find out. “She wasn’t very good at it. She fell. And broke her nails.”

“Still. Attacking you? My God. This is why you have to have bodyguards! Especially in a city as dangerous as Los Angeles. It’s full of animals.”

Better yet, my family could have not tried to force me to marry. “Eugene shouldn’t have taken away my people.”

“He shouldn’t have, but… He’s been distracted.”

Oooooookay. This is weird. She was horrified about the attack and she should be mad at Eugene for leaving me unprotected. But instead, she’s behaving like Eugene’s some poor little victim. “Why are you trying to defend Eugene?”

Mom looks around to make sure we’re still alone. One of the spa receptionists is Korean-American, and you never know. “Things aren’t…calm at the moment.” Her voice is low.

“Not calm how? What happened?”

“A minor incident.”

“I’m not getting the impression it’s minor. Did Eugene do something?”

She lowers her voice even more. “He’s getting divorced.”

The shock feels like a literal slap in the face. “What?”

“Keep your voice down,” Mom hisses.

I immediately comply because otherwise she isn’t going to say another word. “Why?”

Eugene’s marriage is a merger marriage. He can’t divorce his wife unless he plans to untangle all the joint ventures.

Is he that unhappy with his wife? After all, he was so proud of the fact that they had a son. He made it sound like that was a sufficient reason to maintain his marriage.

“Sera…” Mom sighs, shaking her head.

Oh no. She didn’t call Eugene’s wife aga or any of the other affectionate words she often uses. The last time Mom called Eugene’s wife by her name was when she received a detailed dossier on her before Sera and Eugene met for the first time.

“…has a lover,” Mom says. “Well, she’s had him since even before she married Eugene.”

Outrage surges through me like a tidal wave. What the… That bitch! “She met Eugene while she was with another guy?”

Mom’s jaw muscles flex. “Yes. Her parents claim she was instructed to dump him, but obviously she didn’t.”

“Why didn’t they just make him go away? Can’t be that expensive.”

“Because they’re cheap and don’t know how to do the most basic things properly. They’re just…sloppy.” Cold disapproval radiates from her. “So it’s best we don’t do anything that will get the tabloids excited.”

Damn it. Fury, resentment and a sense of betrayal all mix together until they’re about to burst. I liked Sera. My parents treated her like a princess, and this is how she repays us? By having a lover? And because of her screw-up and inability to keep her legs closed when she’s around a man who isn’t her husband, I have to contort my life to fit some PR campaign the Hae Min damage control team came up with?

Then an even worse thought hits. “How about Minho? Is he Eugene’s?”

Mom looks away, her mouth tight. “No. We’ll erase him from the family registry as soon as possible and make sure this won’t complicate succession.”

Oh, for God’s sake. I rest my forehead on my fingertips. Poor Eugene. I recall how cold and detached he sounded on the phone when I called him about his wife after the accident. No wonder! And I thought he was being an emotionless robot. I feel like an idiot. He might not be an expressive person, but he loves his family. His real family.

“When are we announcing the divorce?” I ask after a moment.

“When the legal team’s through, we’ll issue a written statement at the group level. We’ll go on like nothing’s changed because we can’t let anybody think the divorce means anything significant to us.”

Of course not. That would be conceding too much. And Sera’s not worth it.

Mom continues, “We’re going to get everything we can from her family, since she screwed up. But people in our circle already know what’s going on. Some are sending photos and possible candidates for Eugene’s next wife, but it’s too soon. Besides, it’s going to be his second marriage. That makes everything much more complicated.”

I rub a spot on my temple that’s throbbing like crazy. A man on his second marriage is considered less desirable in Korea. Of course, Eugene has a lot of pluses as well. He’s intelligent, good-looking (even if I am biased, since he’s my brother) and wealthy. Not to mention, he’s the only heir to the Hae Min fortune. Plus he is—or officially will be—childless. So most people will overlook the fact that he’s a divorcée.

“When did he find out about Sera and her…other guy?” I ask.

“About a month ago.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I might as well be scum on the bottom of a septic tank. I asked Eugene if he was happy with his marriage in his office, all outraged and morally superior. Then I sneered when he said he and his wife had a son. God. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“He found out about Minho last week,” Mom adds.

I stand up. “Why don’t you finish your tea? I’m going to call Eugene real quick.”

Mom nods. She knows I’m going to need to talk with my brother about this bombshell announcement. Despite our recent differences, he and I are close.

I go to the lockers and dig out my phone. Since Eugene and I are going to speak Korean I glance around to make sure I don’t see anybody who might be Korean, then go to a booth that’s shielded by a partition for people who want privacy when they change and close the curtain. I call and tap my foot as every cell in my body jitters with nerves. It’s probably late in Seoul, but he should still be up. He doesn’t normally go to bed until midnight.

“Hello, Yuna.” Eugene’s words are raspy and low, like he’s been smoking and drinking. His voice is always like that when he’s been indulging in his vices.

“You’ve been smoking.” That makes me feel worse. He quit years ago. He only reaches for cigarettes when he’s under extreme stress. And his marriage falling apart and learning that his son isn’t his certainly qualifies.

“Just a cigar,” he says. “Jun-young had a small celebratory party, and he always has excellent cigars.”

Jun-young is Eugene’s close friend. It isn’t shocking that Eugene attended the party like nothing was wrong. You never, ever show anybody you’re affected. It’s already humiliating enough that he’s been made a fool of. He can’t afford to appear weak. The weak do not get pity and sympathy in our circle. They’re ripped apart—often for profit, sometimes for entertainment.

So I need to be strong, too…for Eugene’s sake, if nothing else.

“I heard from Mom,” I say. “About Sera and Minho. I’m so sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’ll work out for the best. Her family’s going to give up their claims to all of our joint ventures. They’re also going to pay a lump sum for the funding promised in the contracts. So Hae Min has come out way ahead. I have to go back to producing an heir, but it isn’t like I’m too old for that sort of thing. Or maybe you can produce a son, and he can be my heir.”

I press two fingers against the spot between my eyebrows. But my heart hurts more than my head because he’s talking so coolly. It’s like he can’t even let his feelings out with me because he’s unsure if he can get the control back again.

It’s all I can do to maintain my own control. “Do you need anything? Other than a son from me, that is.”

“No.” His voice softens. “You just be happy. That’s it.”

Does he know what happiness is? My heart hurts for him. “You have to let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise,” I insist, because he can be so…brotherlike and refuse to depend on his baby sister.

A beat. “I promise.” A sigh. “It’s late here. I’m going to turn in.”

“Is Minho with you?” I ask. The child hasn’t done anything wrong, but the sight of him could be like salt on Eugene’s wound.

“No. He’s where he belongs—with his mother.”

Which is for the best. “Okay. Sweet dreams.”

“Have a good day. And just because Mom unfroze your accounts doesn’t mean you won the bet.”

Normally, my competitiveness would come through, but I tamp it down. Eugene can have his victory, no matter how small and inconsequential it might be. “I don’t care who wins the bet as long as I get what I want.”

He laughs softly, then hangs up.

I squeeze the phone so hard that my hand starts to shake. Fucking Sera. I’m going to wait until the divorce is final, then make her pay. She deserves to go to hell for what she’s putting Eugene through.

I’m starting to leave the booth when a couple of women rush into the locker room. They’re both talking loudly.

One of them sounds familiar. I pause, wondering where I might’ve heard the voice. Somehow it triggers a feeling of contempt.

I peek out. Ella. And somebody in her late fifties or early sixties I don’t recognize. But from the shape of her nose and the set of her eyes, I presume she’s related. They have the same beak and calculating look. And those Armani dresses are from a collection that came out two years ago.

Ella slams her locker door shut with more force than is necessary. Sure, take your bad mood out on somebody else’s property. Selfish bitch. I’m sick of selfish, thoughtless people. I pull out my phone and start to make a video recording until I realize I shouldn’t be doing that while she’s changing.

Fine. I’ll point the camera at the floor. I’ll only direct it at her if she does something as bad as throwing away a puppy.

“Isn’t it crazy how Declan won’t pay for the wedding?” Ella whines. “I even went over to his place to ask nice.”

When? Before or after you tried to tackle him while frothing at the mouth?

“He’s still angry about that damn dog,” the other woman says. “Ridiculous. I called him to try to change his mind, but he’s being stubborn.”

“I can’t believe he’s betraying your kindness like that,” Ella says. “He’d have to make his living sucking dicks if it weren’t for you.”

My jaw slackens as outrage pours through me. How dare she!

“Well, he probably would’ve still made good money. He has a nice face.”

Ella giggles. “Mom, that’s hilarious.”

Like mother, like daughter. You can always look at the parents for the way kids turn out. The only exception being the Blackwood brothers, but that’s only because they’re too good to be corrupted by their evil mother.

Ella’s mother here seems almost as vile as Tony’s.

“Don’t approach him. He has this weird hang-up about dogs,” the mother says. “I’ll reach out again and see what I can squeeze out of him.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best!” Ella hugs her, arms wrapping around her mother like a dead cockroach’s legs.

Gross.

I’ve heard enough. I stop the recording app and come out of the private booth. They’re too wrapped up in themselves—literally—to notice me. But then, that’s how narcissistic sociopaths behave, so I’m not surprised.

“If you want a dream wedding, you should pay for it yourself instead of asking a half-brother you think would’ve made a good hooker.” My voice is cold. “You didn’t do a thing to help him become what he is.”

“Who the hell are you?” Ella demands, squinting like she can’t quite place me.

Ella’s mom laughs like a hyena.

“You don’t know who I am?” I ask in shock.

“Why should I?” Ella puts a hand on her hip. “You aren’t famous or anything.”

I shake my head. Granted, I was hiding the whole time behind Declan during our encounter, but she attacked my leg hard enough to break a nail or two. I’d most definitely remember somebody I scratched the crap out of. “You’re even dumber than I thought. No wonder you think Declan’s going to pay for your wedding.”

“Look, lady.” Ella points a finger at me. “I don’t give a shit what you think. Declan’s my brother, and he’s going to do what I say.”

“Then why hasn’t he?” I taunt her. “Oh, that’s right. Because he knows what kind of cold-blooded dog abuser you are.”

“I didn’t abuse that damn dog! I just wanted to free it.”

“Well, yeah, you made the right choice. Because living with you would’ve been worse abuse. I’ll bet your groom will be making lots of 911 calls for domestic violence.”

“I’m not violent!” she screams, her face going crimson.

“You’re violently loud…”

The fuss Ella’s making must’ve caught the attention of Mom’s entourage, because Ms. Bak walks in. She’s one of Mom’s bodyguards, has black belts in tae kwon do and aikido and was on the national judo team. Her eyes scan the area, and she gives Ella a flinty, cold stare that would make the Terminator quail.

Ella takes a step back, along with her mom. I give them a superior smirk and walk out. Ms. Bak gives them one last stare and then turns to follow me.

“Are you all right, Ms. Hae?” she asks.

“I’m fine, other than running into some unrecyclable trash.”

“Would you like me to do something about it?”

I consider for a moment. Ms. Bak has a very…final way of dealing with things. But I don’t want to do that to Ella and her mom. They deserve something a bit more poetic, especially for having said that stuff about Declan. I can’t do anything about the situation Eugene’s in, so I’m going to vent my anger on them instead. “Not just yet. But when I find exactly what I’d like to do, I’ll let you know.”