𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 | 𝐊- 𝐏𝐎𝐏

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗏𝖾

arranged

obiwrites

Summary:

If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.

But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

Chapter 1

The ballroom is gorgeous—gleaming in a perfect blend of marble and gold, the doors spanned floor to ceiling and yet they were dwarfed by the high ceilings and draping of crystal chandeliers. At the entrance there’s ice sculptures that make Michaelangelo’s David look like a kindergarten project and a chocolate fountain the rich types seemed so fond of. Everything about tonight was magical—or it should’ve been. But when you’ve seen one rich people gathering, you’ve seen them all.

“He doesn’t love me.” You say, staring at nothing, the flute of bubbly in your hand had gone flat long ago. Somewhere along the way the glamour had worn off, you were still wearing Cinderella’s dress but the clock had struck midnight six months ago.

“___,” Irene calls softly, “in our world … love and marriage aren’t things that often coincide.”

“Dad loves mom. Jimin loves you.” You point out and she winces.

“But that’s different. Me and your mom we … we won the lottery with two men who hadn’t completely lost themselves to greed and success. That’s not common. Your fathers a good man and he’s cut from a different cloth and I lucked out that he had passed that along to your brother. You know what they can be like—corporate heirs—they’re cold and moody and … unfeeling.” She says, and takes your hand in hers.

“Jung Hoseok’s not unfeeling,” you say softly and as though you had a sixth sense, you find him in the crowd almost immediately. He’s at the bar chatting up a familiar face, looking happier than you’ve seen him in the entire seven months you’ve lived with him.

You couldn’t exactly call Roa a roadblock in your marriage. In all honesty you could barely call what you had with Hoseok a marriage, when outside of a binding, legal document you had no connection. Not like they had anyway. You suppose that could happen when you’ve known someone for your entire life. Their story was like something out of a romance novel—your typical rags to riches—her mom had worked for the Jung’s long before either of them entered this world. But unlike most employer-employee relationships, there was a lot of mutual trust and love between the two families. It was thanks to Hoseok’s father that Roa was able to attend events like this, dressed in fifteen thousand dollar dresses and decked out with swavroski crystals.

Her family had humble beginnings but both her parents were hard workers and genuine people. You suppose that’s why Mr. Jung had slowly but surely elevated either of the statuses in what one would call a tale of the century, one where his groundskeeper and his maid had somehow climbed their way up to corporal success. Roa’s father was now manager at one of their largest branches in Seoul and her mother had been serving as Mr. Jung’s secretary for the last fifteen or so years. For a long time you thought her and Hoseok would be engaged. If not by arrangement, out of sheer love for each other. But it never happened. Because you, like he had forgotten that in your world, marrying for love was a rarity.