Mr. Billionaire Matchmaker

The delicate clinking of cutlery against china plates reverberated around the lush dining room, which was illustrated by its dazzling chandelier, large, panoramic windows, and a sumptuous gold-and-grey décor.

Ji-hoon, seated opposite his father – with his mother to his right-hand side – stirred his food with little interest. Yoon-ah, having planted another morsel of beef in her mouth, took leisure to regard both men in the room.

Unlike Ji-hoon, Chairman Cha ate with relish. Her eyes rested on Ji-hoon with worry. "You're not eating. Don't you like the Bulgogi? I had the chef make it with premium Korean beef."

Ji-hoon poked at a lone, greasy beef on his full plate. "I'm not very hungry."

The taut silence returned. Yoon-ah pressed her lips together, apprehensive. She knew she had to tread lightly; she wanted to broach the important subject without causing both men to erupt in vexation.

She took a serviette lying by the side of her plate and gently wiped her lips, using the delay to gather her resolve. "Ji-hoon. You met the lady by the foyer. Did you speak with her?"

Ji-hoon paused, his steel chopsticks hovering over his food. He looked at his mother, a slight scowl rumpling his forehead. "Why? Is that the woman you picked out this time for me to marry?"

Chairman Cha slammed down his chopsticks against the table with heavy, deliberate force, causing Yoon-ah to jump a little in her seat. Things were surely spiralling out of her control – beyond how she intended the conversation to go. 

"When are you going to grow up into a man?!" He roared, pointing a thick finger lengthwise towards Ji-hoon. "Do I have to keep chasing you to settle down at thirty-two years of age? Huh? Or are you hoping to close down our family lineage and have no heir to pass on the company to?!"

Ji-hoon let a scoff burst past his sealed lips. "Of course. It has always been about preserving your legacy." He muttered, half to himself.

Chairman Cha's face took on a redder quality. "What did you say?!" He sputtered, more furious than before. Yoon-ah quickly made a move to soothe the Chairman's temper, all the while signalling to Ji-hoon with her eyes not to rile his father up.

Ji-hoon finally gave up the battle with his food by dropping his cutlery beside his plate. He fixed his father a determined look. "Anyhow, I'm not marrying her." 

Chairman Cha downed the glass of water next to him and took a deep breath – in an effort to control his raging temper. "No one is asking you to marry her, you dolt. She's beneath our social standing. She's a professional matchmaker. And her job will be to find you a perfect wife – one befitting of your station, of course."

A look of mock surprise crossed Ji-hoon's features, and he turned his wide, questioning eyes towards his mother. "A matchmaker? Really?" He leaned back in his chair, still digesting the ridiculous news that felt utterly laughable to his ears.

"Just when I thought you both couldn't surprise me any further."

"I've heard many good things about the matchmaking agency," Yoon-ah trod carefully, subtly entreating her son with her eyes. "It won't hurt try it, Ji-hoon."

Ji-hoon sighed, briefly closing his eyes. "Mother –"

"This would be my last effort in letting you choose a girl of your choice to marry," Chairman Cha interrupted, a stony finality in his voice. "I've had enough of your stubbornness. If you still don't find a wife after this, I'll get you one from my circle of friends, and you will marry her without question!"

Ji-hoon gazed calmly at his father. "And what? End up in a loveless marriage like yours?"

Chairman Cha felt his previous anger returning, drastically colouring his mood. "I did what I could for the benefit of the company. Besides, I respect your mother very much." He retorted.

Yet you entertain a barrage of women in your bed.

Ji-hoon barely stopped himself from blurting out the words. He tightened his fist, keeping it clamped in an effort to control himself.

Having decided he had had enough, he arose from his seat, his chair making a loud, scraping sound.

Gathering himself, he dipped his head in a low bow. "Mother, Father. Thank you for the dinner. I'll retire to my room now." With that, he turned on his heels.

Yoon-ah stared at her son as he left the room. All her efforts for a peaceful conversation had fallen flat, and their dinner was ruined.

***

Ji-hoon stood motionless under the hot shower stream with his eyes closed. As the warmth seeped into his skin, he felt the tension of the day leave his muscles, and his thoughts finally unwound from their tangled knot.

Ha-na.

Her name echoed through his mind like an unspoken prayer. Seeing her standing in the foyer of his home, he had initially thought he was in a dream. But there she was, as dazzling as ever, standing before him.

His first love. The girl that broke his heart and shattered it into a million pieces. For the first time in ten years, he felt his heart come alive and then grow stone-cold again.

Anger twinged his insides as he remembered the twinkle of amusement in her eyes – gently mocking him – when he had asked her if she had come to cajole him into marrying her. That was the same look she sported when she ripped his heart out of his chest and then crushed it in the cruellest way.

He wanted to be mad. Wanted to hate her and curse her for turning him into a stone-cold gargoyle. But when he saw her, all he felt was a rush of emotion – the kind he felt ten years ago when he was still head over heels for her.

He had expected to have forgotten her. But apparently, his heart had other plans, and it baffled him. Why did it feel like his old feelings for her hadn't dwindled one bit – like they remained fresh in his heart like it was just yesterday he had fallen in love with her?

He slammed a wet, angry, glistening fist against the tiled bathroom wall, taking in deep breaths. He let the water cascade over him, calm him, the water droplets clinging to his skin like little diamonds.

No. He wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let her worm her way into heart, or his life again. Whatever business his parents must have established with her, he would make sure he severed it.

He wasn't going to entertain any form of interaction with her – most certainly not as his matchmaker. Steeling his resolve, her reached for the shower knob and turned it off. He was determined.