Mr. Lee

30. Elite

'It's perfect!' you said happily as you looked around.

Mr. Lee had taken you to an empty building in the city. It was located around the corner of a busy and expensive part of the shopping area. Just near enough to find and visit, but out of sight for people who wouldn't know about it.

'Are you sure? It used to be an old post office. I know it's not that big, but location-wise,' Mr. Lee spoke but you cut him off by hugging him tightly.

'It's perfect,' you repeated.

You could hear Mr. Lee sigh in relief.

'Good, I will let the realtor know then. We should also call your investors that you've found a spot and that,' Mr. Lee began but you cut him off once more.

'I know Oppa, I know,' you said shaking your head. 'God, can't you just live in the moment for once. I know we got a lot of stuff to do, but just...' you said, staring around the space.

You could totally imagine it. Paintings on the walls. Art pieces placed here and there. Bright lights on the ceiling...

The place was perfect. It had a hidden door in a back room that led to a vault. It would be perfect to store the more discreet artworks and the room could be used as your office.

The building didn't have any windows either which would also be great for anonymity and discretion. There was only one back door that lead to a small courtyard to which none of the other surrounding stores had access to or view on. The courtyard in turn could be accessed by a small side street which was just wide enough for a small truck to drive in. A gate could close off access to this street if needed.

It would be perfect for bringing in artwork around the back.

'Thank you Oppa,' you said softly, as you grabbed his hand.

Mr. Lee smiled at you lovingly.

When the two of you came home Mr. Lee got troubled by an emergency call from work. After promising you would be okay making the calls to your investors on your own, he took off.

 It was already very late when he finally returned home.

'You look awful,' you remarked as Mr. Lee sank down onto the couch next to you.

His hair was messy and his hands bore the unmistakable traces of violence.

'Thanks,' Mr. Lee grunted crankily.

'Fight?' You asked as you offered him a cold dumpling. You had ordered for the both of you, not sure if he would be home in time but still wanting to make sure he'd eat.

'Yep,' he nodded pressing his lips together for a moment before opening them for you to put in the dumpling. You fed it to him.

'Sorry it's cold,' you apologized. Mr. Lee shook his head.

'It's fine,' he said, opening his mouth again to let you know he wanted another. You giggled and fed him a second dumpling.

'How were your calls?' Mr. Lee asked with his mouth half full.

'Fine. Mr. Nam has already sent the contract. Mr. O wants to meet in person before he signs anything and Mrs. Yeol is talking to her accountants as we speak,' you told him.

'Mr. O was to be expected,' Mr. Lee shrugged. 'What about Miss Haeol?'

'Out of the country for a month with her new boyfriend,' you said rolling your eyes.

Mr. Lee nodded understanding before opening his mouth at you again.

'What was it about this time?' you asked Mr. Lee as you fed him his third dumpling.

'Car parts. I'm so sick of that branch. Honestly, it's too much hassle,' he sighed shaking his head.

'Why don't you drop it then?' you asked him offering up another dumpling which he happily took from you.

'As I said before,' he said chewing, 'it profits easy money,' Mr. Lee shrugged.

'Hmm,' you said thinking.

Mr. Lee raised his eyebrows at you, seeing your thoughtful face.

'What?' he asked.

'Well, most of what you do is more... I don't know, high quality? Elite?' you said shrugging.

Mr. Lee laughed.

'I mean it. Yes, you're a mobster but all you do is mostly very neat. The whitewashing is untraceable and for high-profile accounts. Your customers expect a certain... quality. You hack, but mostly big corporations. The gambling is also for the upper class as well as the drugs, which you always say are of the highest standard,' you summed up.

'It is. I demand nothing less,' Mr. Lee said sternly.

'Well, it's all quite upper class. Don't you think that dealing in stolen car parts is a bit... under your level? Especially with our art-gallery opening and such?' you asked.

Mr. Lee looked at you surprised.

'Our? What do you mean our?' He asked you frowning.

'What do you mean?' you asked, this time it was your turn to be confused.

'I mean it's not our gallery, it's yours. Only yours,' Mr. Lee stated.

You blinked a few times.

'But you're an investor. You're buying me the location. You're giving me the startup money,' you said.

'Those are all gifts,' Mr. Lee said, his face an expression as if he was trying to explain that one and one was two.

You didn't know what to say.

'I don't want anything in return. The art gallery is all yours. It's for you. It's a gift,' he repeated.

You opened and closed your mouth.

'My dear Y/n,' he said taking your hands into his large bruised hands, 'I gifted it to you so you know you are always free with me. You have your own business, away from your father, away from me. You can make your own money. And if you'll lose it I'll be there to catch you if you fall. But knowing you, you'll probably be reeling in the big bucks in no time. And you'll be free to spend it however you like,' 

You felt a lump in your throat.

Never could you have thought Mr. Lee to be so sweet.

'Thank you,' you said hoarsely, trying to blink away the tears. Mr. Lee smiled lovingly at you. 'Thank you for claiming me that day, it's the best thing that has ever happened to me,'