Chapter 2
Benji
Consequences.
Noun.
The effect, result, or outcome of something occurring earlier—or, in this case, the cross I was forced to bear because I fucked up.
Royally.
I grinded my teeth hard as I stood waiting outside father's office, hands stuffed in my pockets.
The sunlight that streamed through the floor to ceiling windows of the thirty-first floor served to only mock my bitter mood.
And bitter was putting it lightly. You would be too if you found out you were being married off through the press.
At first, I thought it was idle gossip. Hungry reporters and paparazzi always chased the next big story to serve their own selfish interests, whether it was true or not.
I tried to stay under the radar (hard as it was) and most times, it worked.
You'd be surprised how fast they move on when they realize how uninteresting you were.
Well, until this morning.
My peace ended the second my name was printed in bold letters.
Marriage.
Disbelief ran through my bones, cooling whatever anger I felt but refused to show. I knew I would've had to prove myself again after the panic months ago, but marriage was not what I had in mind. Definitely not to someone I never met.
There were other ways to prove myself to my father again.
Long hours, big investments, big returns—anything could be achieved without me being tied to a mystery woman.
We didn't need the Choe subsidiaries to continue climbing the ladder of success.
They were a hill compared to the mountain that we were.
All of which I planned to explain to him as soon as he finished this board meeting—the one happening without me.
My eyes dipped to the streets, watching the buzzing traffic of the morning below.
April was in full swing and from this view, the city of Westfort was beautiful—high rises and ocean views.
Oh, it was good to be back. These past few months, father and I had been in Seoul for the launch of LAUPORE, the latest fragrance and luxury fashion subsidiary of the brand.
I put everything into those months, showing father that I wasn't as distracted as he thought I was.
And when we came back a few days ago, I thought it was enough.
Evidently not.
My ears perked up at the office door sliding open behind me, the faint murmurs of the board members floating out.
I didn't turn around as they walked out, keeping my focus on the morning traffic down below.
Being the patient man I was, I waited until the murmurs faded into nothingness.
Whatever I had to say to father, I didn't need the board members to hear.
“Your father will see you now, Mr. Won,” Heidi, his secretary, voiced from behind me fifteen minutes later.
I slowly spun around and nodded to her, giving her a forced smile. “Thanks.”
Strolling into the office, I saw father sitting behind his desk, scribbling into his trusty notebook.
Won Dae-hyun, or David Won as he was otherwise known, was a hard man. I inherited his prominent jawline and thick dark hair—even though his was beginning to gray. The man rarely smiled and he possessed piercing gray eyes that kept everyone in check, where I took after my mother's warm gaze.
Decked out in a three-piece navy blue suit and black tie, he was a testament to the luxury brand we were the face of. And he treated that chair like a throne, looking down at the subjects of his domain.
“Are you here to give me the reports after Seoul?” He didn't look up as I approached, and it only added to my annoyance.
“Marriage?”
If he was surprised by my cool tone—or the fact that I brought it up at all—he didn't show it.
“I must have missed the meeting where I agreed to being sold off like livestock.” When he still didn't look up, I ran my tongue across my teeth and averted my eyes. “Am I worth that little that I didn't deserve a courtesy call? I found out about it through the press.”
“Had you been here an hour ago, you would have been told.”
“There was nothing scheduled this morning.”
“This office opens at eight a.m. sharp,” he started, closing the book and putting down the pen, finally meeting my eyes. “What time do you think the CEO is supposed to be in?”
Go figure he would turn this into a teaching moment.
“I didn't—”
“Heidi, shut the door.”
He didn't need to raise his voice. One command and seconds later, the door closed softly behind me.
“You deem yourself worthy of this position—my position—yet you fail to understand what it takes to truly be at the top. Instead of being here, proving you have what it takes to run this company, you have been buried with distractions.”
“My attention has been here.”
“But for how long?” He leaned back, his arms interlaced in his lap.
“I told you I was focused and I meant it,” I insisted, my tone harsher than I intended.
“Pretty words mean nothing to me. Your actions last quarter caused us to lose the largest acquisition this company has ever seen. And to a Choe of all people,” he huffed, turning his gaze to stare out the window.
“I told you, there was an emergency—”
“Spare me,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “What matters now is the recovery. Fortunately for us, the purchase failed. What is… inconvenient is that the manufacturer has deep ties with the Choe family, explaining why they were so willing to sell it to them in the first place.”
That little tidbit wasn't in the portfolio I prepared months ago, and silence brewed between us, unforgiving and unkind.
“You’re blaming me for information that was deliberately withheld?” I asked, my voice quieter now—sharper.
“I am reminding you,” he corrected smoothly, “that oversight is failure, regardless of intention.”
My jaw tightened.
He turned back to me fully now, those cold gray eyes locking onto mine with the kind of precision that made board members crumble mid-sentence.
“We have rivaled the Choe family for decades, but their greed will be their downfall. It appears there was a reason the acquisition fell apart,” he continued, reaching across his desk for a piece of paper before stretching (barely) to hand it to me.
I moved closer and took the document, quickly reading the few lines on the page.
“We already knew they were nearing bankruptcy.”
“Not to this degree. They have a matter of months before they go under.”
My brow arched at the news, handing the page back to him.
“Your surprise of that fact only further proves my point that you lack the focus and the drive to lead this company into the future.”
“Every family has their secrets, father.”
“Secrets,” he started, putting the page back on the stack, “are the best currency in this business, and you can thank your uncle for finding this one.”
I resisted the urge to scoff.
This was the same uncle that asked him to launder money through our smaller boutiques years ago.
The same uncle who suggested that we “optimize” the financials before the LAUPORE project.
He didn't mind dealing business in the gray, and it was a constant battle between us.
He didn't care about ethics, he only wanted to win, and that ruthless nature is what father wanted in me.
“Despite my hesitations, I made you the CFO of this company so I expect you to find these obstacles before we walk into a room. Not twiddling away on your phone during one of the biggest meetings of our company history.”
It grated on my last nerves that he kept bringing that up. The meeting had been impromptu, a last-minute power play with board members talking numbers with the representatives of the Diling Manufacturers, but that night my mind was miles away.
Initially, my best friend's girlfriend, Savannah, had texted me asking for his address in an effort to quell whatever fight was brewing between them.
The storm made me hesitant but father was rushing me to get to this meeting so once she said she didn't need a ride, I didn't think anything of it.
That is, until Jaxon mentioned she wasn't there.
And with the storm rattling the windows of the boardroom that night, the guilt and panic was deafening.
I excused myself—much to my father's displeasure—and called her repeatedly before I told Jaxon.
The love sick fool he was, Jaxon was ready to race off into the storm looking for her on his damn bike.
As if I needed to add anything else to the panic I felt.
All he said was that he was going to look for her then hung up. I switched between calling him and Savannah, wishing one of them would pick up, pacing outside the boardroom like a man on drugs. Suffice to say, they both found each other and I was worried for nothing.
And father didn't exactly appreciate the explanation.
Sue me for having a heart.
Still, I paid my penance for that night and have given this company every second of my attention since then, so his need to bring it up for months now was beginning to annoy me.
“Now that we know their weakness, we can leverage it to bring the Dijon Manufacturers back to the table. Once they agree to merge with us instead of the dying brand of Choe, we'll wash our hands of them.”
“And your solution,” I said slowly, already knowing the answer, “is to marry me off to get it.”
“Merely a means to an end.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes. “You’re asking me to tie myself—legally, publicly—to a stranger because of a deal that hasn’t even been finalized.”
“It will be.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said simply. “Because they want this just as much as we do.”
That gave me pause.
“They?” I echoed. “So the Choe family agreed to this?”
A flicker of something—brief, unreadable—passed through his expression before it was gone.
“Her family understands the value of this arrangement.”
That wasn’t what I asked.
“They’re desperate,” I concluded.