Chapter 3 - The King Descends
Downstairs, Vivian Park was instructing a maid on how to use a specialized chemical cleaner to remove the red kimchi stains from her marble floor.
"Make sure you scrub hard," Vivian commanded, tapping her manicured fingernails against her wine glass. "If Mr. Kang sees even a single speck of red chili oil, I will blame your incompetence."
Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the top of the grand marble staircase swung open with a thunderous bang.
The murmuring guests went instantly quiet, turning their heads upward. Jae-min Kang descended the stairs, his movements slow, deliberate, and radiating a massive, suffocating aura of absolute power. Behind him walked four of his top syndicate enforcers, their hands resting inside their tailored wool overcoats, their faces completely void of expression.
Vivian smiled brightly, instantly shifting back into her role as the perfect Beverly Hills hostess. "Mr. Kang! We were just waiting for you! The main course is slightly delayed due to a clumsy kitchen assistant, but please, come take your seat—"
Jae-min bypassed her completely. He walked directly to where I was leaning against the bottom of the kitchen service counter, a trembling maid trying to apply a cold wet towel to my blistered cheek.
Don Jae-min dropped to one knee on the dirty, stained marble floor.
The entire dining hall let out a collective, synchronized gasp. The legendary, untouchable Don of the Koreatown underworld was kneeling in a puddle of spilled kimchi stew. He reached out a large, heavily tattooed hand, gently removing the maid's towel. His dark eyes scanned the severe red burns covering my left cheek, my ear, and trailing down into my collarbone.
"Naomi," he murmured, his voice softening into a tone that none of his criminal associates had ever heard. "Can you look at me?"
"Jae-min..." I whispered, a fresh wave of tears cutting through the dried chili residue on my skin. "It burns. It hurts so much."
"I know," he said softly, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my uninjured eye. "The medics are already outside. You are safe now."
He stood up smoothly, his face instantly transforming back into a cold sheet of unforgiving iron. He turned back to look at Vivian Park, who was now standing frozen, her wine glass slipping from her fingers and shattering loudly on the floor.
"Mr... Mr. Kang?" Vivian stammered, her voice losing all its aristocratic weight. "You... you know this girl? She's just a temporary caterer from an agency..."
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"She is not a caterer, Mrs. Park," Jae-min said, stepping closer to her until his towering frame completely blocked the light from the crystal chandelier above. "She is the personal, exclusive culinary artist of the Kang Family estate. Her hands are registered under my corporate insurance policy. Her safety is guaranteed by my blood."
He looked around the table at the thirty silent guests. "And tonight, you burned her."
