But where was her bed? Or was she planning to post up on the futon? That could get uncomfortable fast.
What does it matter? Why should I care about her comfort?
I shook the unwarranted and undeserved compassion for her situation from my mind and closed the door, heading for the third.
The door beside her room was a bathroom, and it was huge—bigger than her room, actually. It had a separate door leading to what I could only assume was the master bedroom, with a lock that was very much engaged at the moment. The tub was huge, the vanity had two sinks, even the cabinet was outfitted with more plush towels and robes than one man could ever need.
Was there only one bathroom in this whole house?
That could get annoying.
I pushed the only complaint from my mind, opened the second floor's last door, and walked right into a room reminiscent of the presidential suite at a high-end hotel.
The bed was on a riser in the center of the room, the carpet wall-to-wall shag in a deep shade of slate grey. There was no dresser in here, but a built-in sliding door revealed a walk-in closet as big as my first shared room at the dorms back in Korea. My jaw dropped as I dragged my fingers over the drawers built into one wall, display cases for ties and jewelry just waiting to be filled. Empty poles for hangers sat waiting for a wardrobe fit for a king. A full-length mirror adorned one wall, and I imaginedwhat it would be like to stand in front of it and try on outfits, preparing to make a public appearance in style.
And then a voice behind me caused me to jump so high I nearly smacked my head off a pole I’d bent down under.
“Not what you’re used to, is it?”
I spun on a dime and nearly came nose to nose with her, standing there with her hands behind her back, a shit-eating, proud grin on her lips.
For a second, I didn’t breathe. I didn’t blink; I couldn’t even think pasthow many nights did I dream of what I’d say if I ever got her alone again?—
“Appa?”
Chapter
Five
ARISTA
“She speaksKorean because of Minseo and I, and English because she’s been learning with Yang-Jin.”
I sat at the table with Jun across from me, his eyes anywhere but on me. Currently, he was watching our—no,hisdaughter—in the backyard with their head of security, Pujin. A stout man with a stubborn personality, he was immediately apologetic to Jun when he thought he’d messed up by allowing Yejin free rein of the house without consulting him first.
Yejin. Her name was Kim Yejin.
“Don’t think I’m telling you because I want you to care or something. Obviously, you’re incapable of that, or you wouldn’t have abandoned her.” His hands balled into fists on the top of the table as he spoke, his words harsh and intended to cut deep. “Just stay away from her as much as possible, and nobody gets hurt.”
Except for me. But I deserved every ounce of that pain.
“Right,” I agreed, hating that I couldn’t just open my mouth and tell him the truth. It’s not like he’d even believe me. I made damn sure to give him as little information as possible in my own favor. I didn’t want him trying to follow me or hunt medown. If the label thought I hadn’t made a clean cut, both my life, and theirs, would have been in danger.
The label tried to kill me once before. Running for my life, and leaving hers in his hands, felt like the safest option at the time. He had the kind of money that could ensure no harm came to her. I didn’t.
Getting close to her, to him, to them both, would do nothing good for any of us.
I didn’t harbor any delusions that Jun would ever forgive me.
“She gets attached to people easily, and I don’t want her getting attached to someone else who will only leave her in the end.”
Drip, drip, drip. The metaphorical sound of my blood hitting the floor as I bled out emotionally from his bladed words.
“I understand,” I said slowly, focusing only on keeping my breathing even and under control. “You’ll probably want to interview daycares and nannies first, then, so that you will have someone reliable and trustworthy to watch her when you have to work away from her.”
“Mmm,” he muttered, staring off into space, clearly lost in his thoughts. “Do you know anyone?”
“Yeah, let me just pull out my reference sheet of all the childcare I’ve hired in the last seven years,” I snapped, hating the bitterness that had built up in me when I wasn’t looking. “No, Jun, I don’t.”
