The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Declan

When Yuna and I land in Seoul, it’s a madhouse. Her parents send two black Mercedes and a huge black SUV for our things. Well, mainly Yuna’s things, because she shopped until she and her people couldn’t carry any more stuff.

A woman in a black skirt suit introduces herself as Ms. Go and welcomes us to Korea. She says I’m to stay at the primary residence—where Yuna’s parents live—and Yuna’s going to her condo in Gangnam. I want to object, but I keep my mouth shut because I understand where her parents are coming from. If I had a daughter as beautiful as Yuna, I wouldn’t want some bastard around her without a shotgun-wielding chaperone.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Yuna smiles at Ms. Go. “I’m going to be staying at the primary residence too. I so miss my mom and dad.”

“As you wish, Ms. Hae,” Ms. Go says before turning to a couple of men in black suits who came with her and instructing them in Korean.

Ms. Go and her people take the first car. Yuna and I take the second, with Mr. Choi driving and Ms. Kim sitting in the passenger seat. The SUV follows.

“Thank you for not abandoning me to your father’s tender mercies,” I whisper into Yuna’s ear.

“You’re welcome. I don’t want any accidental incidents.”

“What do you mean?” Am I going to get poisoned? Shot and buried in the backyard?

She whispers, “When my dad met my first boyfriend in junior high, he ‘accidentally’ dropped a knife on him.”

“That’s not too bad… Shoes would’ve absorbed most of the impact.”

“We don’t wear shoes in the house in Korea, remember?”

“Oh…right.” I wince.

“It happened in the kitchen. It was a sizable butcher knife.”

Ouch. “I take it back.”

“Thankfully, nobody was hurt, but the relationship didn’t go very far.” She pats my hand. “But we should be okay.”

I’m still a bit nervous about meeting her parents, who I know don’t approve of me. But I decide to take Yuna’s word for it and relax.

The drive is fairly long. The airport is about an hour from Seoul. The cars cut through a quiet residential area. Finally, we go past a huge concrete wall and thick gates shut behind us.

An enormous Asian-style garden with a pine tree and pale flowers stretches out in front of us. Yuna and I climb out of the car and walk past a pond filled with colorful carp.

We enter the main wing. Yuna takes off her shoes and puts on slippers that have been laid out. I do the same, while noting the slippers are soft. Not much protection against dropped knives.

Lady Min comes out, dressed impeccably. I don’t think she owns a single comfy house dress. She says something in Korean and puts her hands on Yuna’s arms warmly. Then she says, “Welcome,” to me in English in that perfectly polite tone.

“Thank you for having me,” I say with a warm, friendly smile. Yuna told me to smile all the time because nobody can spit in the face of a man who smiles. Apparently, it’s a Korean saying.

A man with hair graying at the temples comes out. He’s in a suit, minus the jacket.

Yuna says something to him in Korean in an extra-cheery tone and hugs him.

He laughs and hugs her back. His humor dims significantly when he notices me. I can see it in his eyes: Oh, you’re that American.

“Declan Winters. I’m thrilled to meet you, sir,” I say with an unfaltering smile. Hopefully, smiles prevent knives as well.

“I’m Yuna’s father. You can call me Mr. Hae.” No smile.

Yuna elbows him on the side gently and says something chiding. He scoffs, then pinches her cheek affectionately.

“Dinner’s ready,” Lady Min says.

“Where’s Eugene?” Yuna says.

“Ms. Hong called. His meeting’s running late.”

Yuna links her arm with mine. Her dad glances at that and gives me a death glare. I smile harder and keep my arm linked with hers.

“We’ve prepared a homey Korean meal, nothing special,” Lady Min says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m sure it will be delicious,” I say.

We reach the dining room. I blink a few times. This is what passes for a homey Korean meal?

The table is large enough to seat eight. Every square inch is covered with food, from soup to vegetable dishes to fish and meat. Some are braised, some are grilled and some are roasted.

“Mom, how did you know I was in the mood for the beef and radish soup? And my favorite grilled fish!” Yuna says, looking at her mother like she’s Joan of Arc.

Lady Min laughs a little. “They’re actually gifts from Mr. Jang. We saved them for you.”

I lean toward Yuna and lower my voice. “You give people fish in Korea?”

“Well, yeah. Why not?”

“Well…” I can’t think of a reason, but fish…?

“It’s salted and dried,” Yuna explains. “When you grill it, it’s quite good.”

We sit down, Yuna’s father at the head of the table, Yuna’s mom to his right. Yuna takes the seat to his left, and I sit next to her.

As we eat, I notice Yuna’s mom and dad picking up items from dishes and putting them on Yuna’s rice. She smiles, then returns the gesture for her dad, especially with the braised fish.

She does it for me, too, with a meat dish.

“Thanks,” I say, surprised. “Am I supposed to do it for you?”

“You don’t have to…although you could if you want,” she says.

So I pick up some spinach for her because she seemed to like it when we had Korean food in Los Angeles.

The hair on the back of my neck bristles, and I look up to see her dad giving me a laser-glare of doom. I immediately smile. “Would you like some, too?”

“No. I don’t like spinach.”

Getting his blessing is going to be harder than getting my first acting role.