Chapter 2

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Daehyun’s POV

Name: Nakamura Cho

Birthday: January 13,1995

Age:18

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Height:165.1 cm

Weight: 45.36 kg

Nationality: Japanese

Siblings: Nakamura Sai; Twin brother

The list seemed to go on forever, containing everything from past experiences to her own personal fears. I read through the profile that was provided by my father, skimming it for what was at least the tenth time since we boarded the plane. This girl must have some type of importance, I suppose, but all I can get from the information is that she’s useless. It makes me wonder how she caught the attention of my father. When I had first asked he had only smirked and turned away, saying, “All in due time, my son.”

Sighing, I took out the picture that was attached to the booklet of personal information. She was cute--not hot or sexy, just cute--in an annoyingly innocent kind of way. Her eyes were smaller than most people of Japanese descent and were also a peculiar shade of brown. Finished with the picture, I then turned my head to stare at the intimidating form of my father. His tall, slender form reclined in the less-than-comfortable seats of the cabin. Though his face showed nothing but peace, the aura that hovered over him gave off waves of intimidation. I ogled my father intently, pondering about his connection to the girl.

A deep chuckle cut through the heavy silence as my father’s eyes opened to look back at me.

“You know, it’s actually considered quite rude to stare at a person, especially when they’re sleeping. I guess I never instilled that into your etiquette,” he stated, his ever present smirk spreading across his face. I scoffed and diverted my attention towards the scenery outside the window.

“Obviously you weren’t asleep if you knew that I was staring,” I said, not allowing myself to feel embarrassed.

His laugh rang through the cabin once more, causing all the female attendants to swoon behind the curtain. Sighing, I realized I felt extremely grateful that the flight was almost over. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my father, but remaining in a confined space with the sadistic man made me feel, in a sense, uncomfortable.

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        After our arrival at the airport, my father and I then went to collect our bags, heading outside to our awaiting vehicle and climbing in the seat. After another long journey--at least an hour and a half--we left the city and entered into what looked like a village full of traditional Japanese houses.

I peered out the window as we traveled up the extensive driveway to one of the larger estates in the area. After we idled for a brief moment in front of the home, our driver cut the car off hurriedly and hopped out. Briskly walking he went around the car to my father’s door, opening it with a tip of his hat. I opened the door on my own side and stepped out, allowing it to swing shut behind me as I gazed at the interesting home.

In the midst of my admiring, the front door slid on its hinges to reveal an older man inside. Maybe he was in his early sixties, late fifties at the most. His gaze was dark as he stared from the entryway, and it seemed as if he didn’t want us here.

"Jung ChungHee, I see you've made it here safely," he said in fluent Korean to my father, bowing. His eyes flicked over from my father to me, his gaze scrutinizing while I kept a passive face. Eventually he shifted over to the side and allowed us into the house.

"This is your son, correct?” His stare was glued to me even though his question was directed towards my father.

"Yes, this is my son Daehyun,” my father stated. His near-constant smirk bloomed once more on his face.

"Where are your grandchildren? I'm looking forward to meeting them, especially your beautiful granddaughter," he continued; the man visibly twitched at the question.

“At the moment they should both be on their way home from school," he said monotonously. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go prepare us a pot of tea.” Turning sharply, he paced into the kitchen, a near-silent sigh passing through his lips.

"Appa, who is this man?" I queried as soon as the man entered the kitchen.

"Nakamura Hiro, current head of the Yakuza," he answered with a deep chuckle.

The shock was clear on my face at the thought of actually standing in the home of our biggest enemy. Unable to respond to the surprising news, I sat there and remained silent. Suddenly, the front door squeaked as it rolled on its hinges, and the sound of pleasant chatter graced my ears. The first voice I heard was soft and clearly feminine, almost soothing to my ears. The other was masculine, deep and smooth with youth.

"Come on; lift your foot up," the guy said.

I rolled my eyes as I listened to the two banter. Whoever this girl is, they must spoil her to death. That's the last thing I need around me right now, some spoiled and pampered princess expecting me to wait on her hand and foot.

I could hear the two moving closer, and suddenly they were in the threshold. The girl from the profile was on the right, with a boy that look almost exactly identical to her on her left, chatting animatedly with each other. As soon as they noticed us, though, they stopped their talk and looked at us, bewilderment clear on their faces. To show respect, the two bowed in sync.

“Um, hello,” the girl whispered awkwardly. When we didn’t respond, she took a different approach and began to speak quickly in Korean. A grin lit up my father’s face as he strolled calmly to the girl’s side. Grabbing her hand, his smirk widened in delight.

“Isn’t she just cute, Daehyunnie?” He asked me teasingly; I inwardly cringed at the idiotic pet name. “Clearly she’s just as intelligent. Don’t you think she’s the perfect candidate?”

A candidate for what exactly, I didn’t know. However, I decided against asking for clarification and kept quiet. Clearly taken aback from my father’s forwardness, she blushed darkly and attempted to pull her hands away from him. However, he tightened his grip that he had on her; on the sidelines her brother visibly tensed up next to her. Luckily, for them, the old man came back, a maid trailing behind him with a tray in her hands. The man stopped to observe the situation, while the maid placed the tray on the table in front of me, bowed to everyone in the room, and scurried back to the kitchen.

Without even looking back at the man, my father spoke. “Your granddaughter is an absolute treat. I think that we can go along with this treaty of yours.” The persistent look directed at the girl never wavered while he talked.

Confusion shot across both of our faces as we mulled over his statement. I turned to my father, noticing that, at the same time, she had also faced her own guardian in surprise. We waited quietly for their explanation, knowing that they weren't going to keep us in the dark. My father's chuckle rang through the room as he realized the situation.

“Oh, that’s right, son. Didn’t I tell you?” He inquired, tilting his head sideways. A sly smirk danced across his lips as he grabbed the girl and spun her around. Her hair twirled in a gentle arc as she faced me awkwardly. “Meet your future wife.”

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 29, 2013 ⏰

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