The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Sixty

Declan

I turn over, turn over again, then turn a third time. I beat the pillow, then smooth the thing out because I don’t want Yuna’s parents to think I have something against their pillows. Although given the number of household staff I’ve seen, I doubt her mother and father handle the pillows themselves. But a housekeeper could always report.

I check the time. Three a.m.

I’m so jet-lagged.

But it’s more than that. I can’t possibly relax when my bedroom is in the same hallway as Yuna’s parents’. Yuna’s sleeping in a room in another complex within the compound. Apparently there are a few detached units within the residence, one for her brother Eugene and one for her.

I stare at the ceiling. Eugene arrived at the end of the meal and barely said hello. He sat next to me over tea and muttered, “If you hurt my sister, I’ll have you killed.”

Nice to meet you too, man. Nice to meet you too.

Maybe the exorbitant hostility is the reason I can’t sleep. I’m sleeping among people, except for Yuna, who want me dead. Or at least become impotent from the way they hover over her protectively.

Finally, I sigh and get up. Four fifteen. Great.

To work off my excessive energy, I go out into the hallway, which is dark. But there are lights on downstairs.

I go down and see Yuna’s dad reading the newspaper in a leather armchair. He’s in pajamas and sipping hot tea.

Shit. I start to back away. No need to disturb a man who probably wants to murder me already anyway.

“You can come sit down,” he says without looking up.

No escape. “Yes, sir.”

I sit on a sectional near him. I should’ve just stayed in my room and done jumping jacks if I wanted to burn off energy. This is too damn awkward. At least he isn’t holding a knife. He could always throw the teacup, but I can probably survive that.

He puts down his papers. “Jet lag?”

“A little.” I smile, remembering what Yuna told me. “And thinking.”

“About what?”

Maybe it’s the reasonable tone of voice or maybe it’s the lack of caffeine, but blunt honesty seems like a great idea, as long as I keep on smiling. “About how I should go about asking for Yuna’s hand in marriage.”

“Does it matter what my wife and I think?”

I heard a rebuke there. “Of course. Family is important to Yuna, and that makes all of you important to me as well.”

“Yuna’s our baby. Even when she’s a hundred years old, she’s still going to be my little baby girl, my greatest treasure. And you’re a thief, trying to steal her from us.” His chin trembles a little, and he tightens his jaw. “It’s bad enough she has to marry, but to marry an American…” He shakes his head. “And not just any American, but one who smiles like an imbecile and lives in America! Half the world away.” He speaks like America is in another galaxy and it’s all my fault.

I stop smiling. Maybe Yuna’s wrong about it being helpful. I should tell her dad what’s in my heart, rather than trying to force him into liking me. “The groom candidates she was given don’t love her.”

“So?”

“I do. And—”

He scoffs. “You missed her birthday party.”

Guess his wife wasted no time telling him. “And I learned a Chopin waltz for her because that’s what it took to prove myself to Yuna.”

His mouth stays in a hard, flat line, but his eyes relax slightly.

I meet and hold his gaze. “Sir, I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. God knows I’m not. But every time Yuna’s sad or unhappy, part of my heart shrivels and dies. Every time she smiles, I feel like I’m king of the universe. I promise you I’ll make it my life’s mission to make her happy and treat her like the queen she is.”

He exhales roughly. “You are serious.”

“Yes, sir. I think she deserves that much from a man who wants to marry her.”

“I’ll be watching you.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.” I’ve seen how protective her mom is. Mr. Choi and Ms. Kim might become part of the family, too.

“If you hurt her…”

“You can throw a butcher knife at me. I’ll stay very still.”

Shock and something else I can’t put my finger on cross his face. After a beat, he clears his throat. “I’m too old for that. I’ll have my assistant do it.”

A corner of my mouth lifts. “Of course, sir.”

He regards me for another moment. “You may call me Father or Dad, whichever is easier.”

I go still as something hot knots in my throat. I haven’t had a father in years. Phillip certainly wasn’t a dad…more like a sperm donor. I have a feeling that this isn’t just about tolerating me, but actually accepting me into the fold. “Thank you, sir.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Dad,” I correct myself. “You won’t regret it.”

“I better not. So when and where is the wedding?”

I hesitate for a second. I haven’t thought quite that far. “I think it’s best I leave that up to Yuna and your wife.”

He nods. “Smart man.” He goes back to his newspaper.