The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Forty-Three

Declan

Ever since Mr. Choi and Ms. Kim started to hang around, Yuna has gone home at five sharp. Not because she wants to, but because Mr. Choi and Ms. Kim rush her out. They seem to think that the longer she’s in the same house as me, the more she’s going to be corrupted.

I almost want to hire a crew to stage an accident and create a huge traffic jam every time they go to Caffeine Heaven. Both ways.

Now, at five fifteen, the mansion feels cavernous and empty without Yuna. Which is weird. I’ve never felt this way about my home before. I love this place, with its gorgeous view of the Pacific. The moment I achieved success, I bought it. As a tangible sign I was going to be okay.

I’m not the kid who was alone and scared after his mom’s death. And his father’s cowardly refusal to take him in.

My phone buzzes. I jump for it, hoping it’s Yuna.

But nope. An unknown number.

–Unknown: Mr. Winters, can we talk?

Huh. Not a spam text. This is almost ominous. Like something out of a James Bond flick. The Unknown could be a man stroking a white cat in his lap while holding his iPhone in his free hand, a heavy ring winking on one of his fat, blunt fingers.

The phone rings. From the Unknown. I put it on speaker.

“Yes?” I say, wondering if I’m going to hear a cat purr.

“Mr. Winters. This is Ms. Lim, calling on behalf of Lady Min.”

“Who?”

“Ms. Hae’s mother.”

“Oh. You mean Mrs. Hae.”

“Lady Min. Korean women do not take their husbands’ names after marriage.” Ms. Lim’s voice is flat.

“Sorry,” I say, feeling like I’ve been chastised for being culturally unaware. But how was I supposed to know? I assumed Mrs. Hae would be fine, since she never told me to call her by her name.

“An apology isn’t required, Mr. Winters. Are you free this evening to have dinner with Lady Min?”

Definitely ominous. “Is Yuna coming?” Say yes.

There’s a pause. “It’s about Ms. Hae.”

Okay, so that means she isn’t coming. Damn. I don’t really feel like going. The last dinner I had with Yuna’s mom around was awkward. And she couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t care for me because of my career choice.

But at the same time, it’s Yuna’s mom. Although Yuna’s stubborn enough to do what she wants, and I’m certain she isn’t going to let her mom tell her who to date, that doesn’t mean I want to upset her mother by ignoring an invitation for dinner. Given how much Yuna cares about her family, being rude to her mom might be enough of a reason for her to reconsider dating me.

So I’ll just suck it up and meet her mother for what’s guaranteed to be the most uncomfortable dinner ever. “Sure.”

“Excellent. Please come to Angelina at the Aylster Hotel by seven.”

“I’ll be there.”

I hang up, then go to the closet to see what I’m going to wear. I want to impress upon her that I’m successful and I don’t need to own a huge conglomerate to be a good match for Yuna.

I pick out a deep navy Brioni suit that I’ve only worn twice. It makes my eyes look blue-gray, and it should be good enough for Lady Min. A silk burgundy tie will go well with it. I hesitate over cologne. After a moment, I decide on just a dash of it. Then some wax in my hair to slick it back.

There. I look good enough to sell heaters in Havana. And I’m as ready as I can be for this dinner.

I head out. Rush-hour traffic is a nightmare, but I manage to arrive at the restaurant on time. The slinkily dressed hostess takes me to the same table from Saturday. Surprisingly, the entire place is empty. Weird.

Lady Min’s already seated. She’s impeccably dressed in a jade-green dress, her makeup flawless. Her skin’s still amazingly smooth, and diamonds twinkle from her ears, throat and fingers. I can see where Yuna got her fashion sensibilities.

Yuna’s mom’s eyes remain coolly assessing as she smiles at me. “Good evening. Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.”

“No. I was enjoying the view. Los Angeles is beautiful.” She gestures at the slim menu. “Would you like to order something to drink?”

Why does her suggestion sound like a prelude to battle? “No, thank you.” I doubt the restaurant would poison my wine, but I should have all my faculties sharp and ready.

“It’s all right. I had the entire place reserved, and they’re going to serve as much as we want.”

She had every table at Angelina reserved? What the hell’s going on here? And why is she so eager to pump me full of alcohol?

“I’m all right,” I say.

“Very well, then.” She takes something out of her purse and slides it across the table.

I glance down and note it’s a thin white envelope. It should be innocuous, except it looks as dangerous as a pissed-off scorpion.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Just some compensation for you leaving my daughter.” Yuna’s mom speaks like a queen bestowing a favor on a peasant.

What the fuck?Yuna talked about her family paying off an old boyfriend to make him go away, but I never imagined it would happen to me. It’s beyond insulting. It’s infuriating!

I want to throw the damn envelope in Lady Min’s face along with a few four-letter words, but I maintain control. Barely.

She’s Yuna’s mother. Don’t lose your temper. Don’t lose your temper…

I inhale a few times to calm myself. It doesn’t work very well.

“I’m sure you understand,” Lady Min says.

“I’d like for you to understand that I’m not leaving her.” I say it as evenly as I can.

She raises an eyebrow, then lifts a hand. The woman who asked me about seafood allergies on Saturday steps forward and places another envelope on the table. A large, thick one with a metal clasp.

“Inside is the deed to a four-bedroom penthouse in Manhattan. It’s quite lovely,” Yuna’s mom says. “You can keep the money and the real estate if you’ll break things off with my daughter.”

I manage to swallow a response just in time. A fucking penthouse in New York City? She’s that desperate to get rid of me?

I can’t decide if I should be insulted or flattered that she’s placed such a price on my leaving Yuna. At least Yuna won’t be sad she’s only worth two hundred K. But I need to make things clear to the woman in front of me.

“Ma’am, there’s nothing you can give me that’s going to make me leave your daughter.”

She gives me a level look and takes her time answering. “You realize, of course, that you’re utterly wrong for her,” she says finally.

“Why? Because I’m white? Not Korean, so not culturally compatible?”

“That isn’t even in the top five reasons.” She sighs. “Very well. I hate to dig into old wounds, but you’re the product of an affair your father had while he was married.”

I inhale sharply. If she hates to dig into wounds, she should’ve never brought that up. Mainly because I hate what the affair did to my own mother. On the other hand, out of all the objections Lady Min could’ve had, this one feels rather random. It has nothing to do with my own actions. I don’t flaunt it, but I don’t hide it, either, because I have nothing to feel ashamed of. “So?”

“So that makes you illegitimate.”

“And? It isn’t like Phillip had any money to leave me.” He didn’t die broke, but he wasn’t swimming in money, either. Not like Yuna’s family.

“It’s not about an inheritance.” Lady Min gestures at her assistant.

She steps forward. “In Korea, illegitimacy is bad form and not easily accepted. As one example, Korean men are obligated to serve in the military. The only way to get an exemption is for a compelling medical reason. Illegitimacy was considered one of those reasons until 1992.”

“Wasn’t it good that you weren’t forced to serve?” I ask, not sure what this is about.

“No. It means that, until recently, they were so despised socially that not even the military wanted to use them as human shields. Furthermore, adultery was a criminal offense in Korea until 2016. Ms. Hae has no reason to stoop low enough to date somebody illegitimate, much less born out of adultery.”

I turn to Lady Min, stunned at this medieval attitude. It takes me a moment before I can speak. “Look. Ma’am. It wasn’t my fault or my decision that I was born the way I was. Maybe you should look at what I’ve accomplished with my own choices and actions.”

Yuna’s mom’s expression stays cool, although something shifts briefly in her eyes. “And your sister threw away a dog. What your family does says so much about you.”

“First, she’s a half-sister. And second, unlike her, I love dogs. I donate regularly to a seeing eye dog retirement center in Japan because I love dogs, and dogs that served their owners with love and loyalty should be rewarded.”

She purses her lips, looking annoyed that I’m pushing back. But if she thinks I’ll roll over like some of Yuna’s exes, she’s got me totally wrong.

“You thrive on publicity and scandals,” she says finally.

“Publicity, sure. Scandals, no. You’ve obviously looked into me quite thoroughly. Can you point to a single scandal I’ve been involved in?” I do my best to keep my reputation clean. I also don’t do drugs or anything that could impact my performance, because nobody likes to work with models and actors who aren’t reliable and ready to go. And a clean rep means you have an easier time getting endorsement deals.”

Yuna’s mom lets out an irritated sigh. “I don’t know why you’re arguing. Just take the money and the penthouse. It’s a profitable way to end a short, meaningless fling. It isn’t like you’re going to marry her.”

I inhale sharply at the aggressive way Yuna’s mom brings up marriage, basically saying that if I’m not going to marry Yuna, I should fuck off.

It isn’t the first time somebody’s brought up marriage. My exes hinted at it. Some of my acquaintances asked if I was going to tie the knot with some of my exes. But I always knew the answer was no, because my first reaction was mild revulsion or a lack of interest in a long-term future with any of them.

But when that future includes Yuna…

Waking up to her smile. Whispering good morning before breakfast. Growing old with her. Kissing every fine line on her face as we build our lives together…

A hot fist clenches around my heart. A sharp, intense longing wells deep inside me. The vision in my head feels so damn fucking right. I know if I don’t hold on to her, I’m never going to find another woman like her, one who fills my heart with joy and laughter.

“Actually, I can see myself marrying her. She’s the only woman I can see a future with,” I say steadily to ensure no misunderstanding. No presumption that I’m saying it just to say it.

“Many want to marry her for what she has and represents, and they usually bring something of at least equal value,” Yuna’s mom points out. But there’s no heat or argument in her tone.

“Not me. I want her, not her money or whatever.”

“If you care about her enough to consider marrying her, what have you done to pamper her? What do you know about her likes and dislikes?”

“I know she likes pretty, shiny things. She loves her friends and family. And she loves food.”

“Oh? She’s been in the States for over three weeks, and she’s been working for you all this time. Have you taken her anywhere decent? Fed her her favorite Korean food, perhaps?”

Actually…I haven’t taken her to any Korean restaurants. Also…is there more to Korean cuisine than barbecue? That’s all I’m aware of. There must be more, but I don’t even know what kind of Korean food she likes.

Then I remember what Yuna said about food and romance tropes in Korea. Never let it be said I don’t rectify what’s lacking when somebody kindly points it out.

I stand. “If that’s all you have to say, I’m leaving now.”

I walk away without waiting for her response, my head held high and eyes straight ahead. As I reach the lobby, my phone rings. I pull it out, wondering if it’s Ms. Lim calling to salvage the ruined meeting. From Yuna’s mom’s point of view, this entire meeting has to have been a failure. From where I stand, it wasn’t a total waste because I learned something about Yuna. She probably misses food from her home country.

But no… It’s Chantel.

“Hello?” I say.

“Declan, sweetie.” Her voice is taut. “My God. It’s awful, just awful.”

“What is it?” I ask gently.

“I…um…had an incident…?”

What the hell happened? She’s never like this. “What incident?”

“Well. The fact is I got distracted and drove right into a tree.”

“Holy shit! Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. I think so.”

“Where are you? Did you call 911? You should go to the hospital and get yourself checked out. Sometimes you can be hurt more than you realize.”

“Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I’m too shaken up to drive. Not that I have anything to drive, since my car’s a mess.”

“I’ll take you.”

“No, no. You don’t have to. I already called an Uber to take me home. But I think the car may be totaled. I’m going to need a new one.”

“Of course. You still have something you can drive, though, right?”

“I think so. The old Audi should be okay.” She has an Audi I bought her for Christmas five years ago.

She’s breathing hard and sounds unsteady. I should go see her and make sure she’s okay. “You know what? I’m coming right now. Tell me where you are.”

“No, no, no, that’s not necessary. It isn’t like I’ve never been in an accident, and I know you’re busy. I’ll call the adjuster, but I just need some money, so I can have the car replaced when I get the insurance payout. You know they’ll never give me enough to buy a new one. They’ll claim deprecation.” She sounds so uncomfortable. If voices could squirm, hers would right now.

I sigh, wishing she’d feel more comfortable about relying on me. At least she called me instead of fretting over whatever meager sum she needs to get the car replaced. “That isn’t a problem. I’ll have my accountant send you some. How much do you need?”

“About…twenty-five thousand?” Her voice rises with uncertainty.

She shouldn’t be like this. I’m glad to give her much more, and I make a mental note to make it an even thirty. She can treat herself to something nice with a few extras. “Okay. I’ll have that sent over tomorrow.”

She sighs. “Thank you. You’re the best, Declan.”

“My pleasure, Chantel. I’m glad you called. I’m always here for you.”