After Heihachi Mishima finally died at the hands of his son, Jin Kazama took back control of the Mishima Zaibatsu. With the world turning its back on him in disgust, he has no other choice but to assemble a force of his own to take down another thre...
Two pairs of shoe clad feet climbed up the steps of the grand Rochefort stairway. The leader of the Zaibatsu kept his head low while his employee held his head high, taking in the foreign atmosphere. Hwoarang was more anxious than Jin was, much to his dislike. He had no idea why he was shaking in his boots. Was it because he was going to meet the Gang Mediator?
Or was it because he had an unwavering sixth sense of upcoming danger?
The red head snapped his head to the side. Jin was aware of it as well, judging by his constant need to keep watch of those on all sides of him.
The last of the guests were entering the polished doors, which proved the biker's belief wrong that all rich people were always punctual. It was ten o'clock by now.
There were two fancily dressed men in front of them greeting the young woman and her father.
Jin and Hwoarang directed their eyes at her. There she was. The eighteen-year-old was wearing a beautiful, form-fitting, strapless white gown fit for a bride. Her hair flowed down to her hips with her bangs framing her face, as usual. A small tiara sat on top of her golden hair, giving her the familiar princess look that she normally sports so well.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(A/N: That's the dress, don't mind the lady...)
Lili smiled to the best of her ability to the people in front of her. Little did they know that her face was sore from showing off her pearly whites to people she would rather not see for the rest of her life. The princess wished her father did not beg her to have her birthday party here, even though the request would have been inevitable.
And worse, Asuka may have eaten all the food by now.
"Good evening, Miss Rochefort." The man, who was most likely in his mid or late fifties, purred at her in a way that made her want to be sick. "Good evening, and warm welcomes to my eighteenth birthday reception. Refreshments are served on the table on the left." Lili recited almost monotonously for the millionth time that night. He said nothing in return as he traced her figure with his eyes. Her smile faltered at his growing leer.
She glanced at her father for help, knowing that she would most likely ruin their image if she took matters into her own hands.
Mr. Rochefort cleared his throat, making the man shoot him a glare. "Good evening, Mr. Lae. Why don't you come inside--"
"Mr. Rochefort, is your daughter currently in a relationship? I would love to take her off your hands." The man cut off the oil magnate without averting his eyes from his daughter. His disrespect towards her dear father did not settle well with the blonde. She felt both anger and nausea swirl around in her stomach.
