Boss's Betrayal

The night lights of Seoul glide swiftly past the window, marking my first night in the city. Everything here feels new and strange to me. A girl raised in the United States. It was there, just three months ago, that I met the man of my dreams.

"Are you nervous, darling?" Daon’s sidelong glance catches mine as he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other gently squeezes my fingers. He leans closer to press a soft kiss to the back of my hand, his warmth lingering on my skin.

His smile melts me inside; I can hardly believe my luck in marrying him.

"A little," I admit, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "What if your mother doesn’t like me?"

"Impossible." His tone is confident, almost teasing. The corners of his mouth lift in a smile that chases away my nerves. My heart flutters, those same butterflies that have lived in my stomach since the day we met.

We met at a party in the U.S. he was there for work, and I was trying to move on from a failed relationship. It was love at first sight, and since that night, we haven’t been apart. When he had to return to Korea, the thought of being away from him became unbearable.

When he proposed to me after a night of love, I was lost in thought. I knew he was leaving the next day, and the idea of losing him after three intense months was unthinkable.

"What’s wrong? What are you thinking about?" His fingers brush through my hair, tucking it behind my ear as he studies my face.

"I was thinking I’ll miss you," I whisper, tracing circles on his arm.

"Really, Miss ‘I-won’t-get-attached-to-you’?" he teases, arching an eyebrow playfully.

"I said that?" I giggle, lightly nudging his shoulder. "Well, if I did, I don’t remember."

He laughs and kisses me softly.

"I’ll miss you too," he murmurs against my lips. "I never imagined finding such a wonderful woman and falling in love."

His passionate gaze leaves me breathless.

"Love?" I repeat, my heart racing.

"Yes, Jane," he says firmly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "I fell in love with you, and I don’t want to say goodbye."

"Honestly," I breathe, "I fell in love with you too."

He grins, eyes lighting up like a boy caught in a dream. The butterflies return, stronger this time.

"Careful, woman," he warns with a laugh, "don’t say that or I’ll be tempted to do something crazy!"

We laugh together, the moment too perfect to describe.

"What kind of crazy?" I ask, resting my chin on his shoulder.

He hesitates, glancing at the ceiling as if gathering courage. Then his gaze finds mine again.

"Please, don’t be scared," he says softly. "I’ll understand if you think it’s too soon. But what if… we didn’t have to part?"

"What do you mean?" My voice trembles slightly, though I can’t stop smiling.

"What if I asked you to stay by my side forever?"

His words melt me completely, and I know I’d do anything for him.

"I wouldn’t think twice. I’d say yes!" I blurt, laughing through the rush of emotion.

"Then, since we’re in Vegas," he says, eyes glinting with mischief, "let’s get married tonight!"

"What?" I burst into laughter, but when I see the seriousness in his face, my smile fades in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

"I’ve never been more serious in my life," he says, taking both my hands. "From the first night we were together, I knew you were special. Marry me, and I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world."

"Please, don’t joke about this," I whisper, voice trembling.

"I’m not joking, Jane," he insists. His thumb rubs the back of my hand, steady and sincere. "All I want is that, when I board that plane to Korea tomorrow, you’ll be by my side, holding my hand as my wife. So, I’ll ask again. Will you accept this madness and marry me?"

"Of course. Yes!" I cry, throwing myself into his arms. He laughs against my lips as I shower him with kisses, both of us dizzy with joy. That same night, we got married in one of Las Vegas’s famous chapels. It wasn’t the wedding of my dreams, but he was the man of my dreams.

Now, on my first day in Seoul, Daon wants to take me to dinner at his mother’s house, who, like his friends, still doesn’t know we’re married. Everything happened so fast that I still wonder how I found the courage to leave my entire life behind for a man.

"We’ve arrived."

Daon unbuckles my seatbelt and takes my hand again, lifting it to his lips before pressing a quick kiss to my nose.

"No need to be nervous, my love," he murmurs. "Everything will be fine. Just flash one of those charming smiles that won over my mother just like they won me."

He squeezes my hand reassuringly. I breathe deeply, forcing a calm smile. He steps out, opens the door for me, and leads me toward the elegant, well-decorated house. Inside, we’re soon greeted by a woman with short hair and almond-shaped eyes.

"Omma!"

He releases my hand and wraps his arms around his mother, lifting her slightly off the ground.

"Oh, my son, I missed you so much!"

She laughs softly, hugging him back but her gaze shifts to me, sharp and assessing. I can already feel the judgment in her eyes, probably because of my dress, which might be a little too short for this kind of occasion.

"I missed you too, Omma!" Daon says, setting her down gently. "Look what I brought for you."

He offers her a neatly wrapped gift. She opens it, revealing a lovely green knit sweater.

"Ah, you shouldn’t have, my son but thank you! I love it. And who is this… girl?"

The disdain in her voice makes my stomach twist. Daon walks over, slipping his arm around my shoulders and kissing my forehead.

"Mother, I want you to meet Jane, my wife."

"Mrs. Lee, it’s a pleasure to meet you," I say, forcing a polite smile and extending my hand.

She hesitates, then smirks, thinking it’s one of Daon’s jokes. But the moment she spots the diamond ring on my finger, her face tightens in shock and disapproval.

"Lee Seung, have you lost your mind? How can you bring some girl home and say she’s your wife?"

"Mother, please!" Daon’s tone grows firm. "I won’t let you talk about Jane like that."

"And how should I talk, then?" she fires back. "My son leaves for a show in the U.S. and comes back three months later claiming he’s married a foreigner? Do you know how many years I dreamed of your wedding? How could you marry without your family?"

"It was a quick wedding in Vegas," he explains quietly, running a hand through his hair.

She exhales sharply, clearly trying to control her anger.

"You and I. NOW! In the library." She turns and walks away briskly.

Daon looks at me with an apologetic smile, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

"Just wait here for a minute," he says gently. "I’ll be right back."

He disappears behind a wooden door at the side of the room, closing it behind him. My heart hammers in my chest. I pace for a moment, then, against my better judgment, move closer to the door to listen.

"Didn’t you think for a moment about your mother before doing something like this?"

"Mom, you’re acting like I killed someone," he replies, his voice strained but calm.

"No, but you’ve ruined your life by tying yourself to a woman who’s not right for you!"

"How can you say that when you barely let her speak?"

"My son, think about it," she pleads. "How long have you known this woman? Where did you even meet her?"

"I met her at a party three months ago. But time doesn’t matter, because from the first day, I knew she was the one."

"Why? She went to bed with you that same night?"

"Mom, I’m not having this conversation with you."

"My son, she’s just a slut. She’d have gone to bed with anyone. A woman like that goes with anyone."

"Mom, please!" His voice cracks slightly. "I’m not sitting here listening to you insult my wife."

"Son, have you even considered that she might be a scammer? A gold digger after your fame and your money?"

"She’s not like that!"

"Look me in the eyes," his mother says, voice trembling. "Your mother, who’s always loved and supported you. Don’t you think, deep down, that marrying her so quickly was a mistake?"

He hesitates, and the silence stretches painfully. Then, in a low voice, he answers:

"Maybe…"

That single word shatters me. Tears blur my vision as I turn and walk away before I can hear another sound.

The street is cold, and I have no idea where I’m going. The night has fallen heavily over the unfamiliar city, and I don’t know a soul here. How could I have been so foolish to leave my home, my country, for someone I only knew for three months?

Once again, life was teaching me that not every knock on the door deserves to be answered.