Unspoken Promises

— Present —

The sound of the pen scratching over paper breaks through the silence as you put down your signature.

The way that sound echoes through the room feels ominous, as it should, as this moment marks the next big step which defines your future. Both for you and your family. But you can tell that there is less tension in the room now that you have officially marked your standing in this arrangement that you have with Yoongi.

Even though you cannot say that it was ever a hard decision to make in the first place.

You have already made up your mind long ago, merely days before you first contacted Yoongi to request a draft of the contract for you to review before arranging another meeting. But the last hour you spent with him, followed by the conversation you shared, may have helped you become more determined to go forward with this entire thing.

The meeting over dinner was the last thing you needed to learn more about Yoongi; to have more insight into his views and see if you both still share the same intentions and goals to gain from this. So far, you are quite pleased to find that—despite how much time has passed since his proposition—everything has remained the same since.

Well, almost the same.

"Done," you declare to the room once you are done signing all the necessary parts of the contract. You say nothing else as you put the lid back on the pen and set it down with the papers, taking your time with it before you can look at him again.

Yoongi's smile is easy and delightful once you meet his eyes. He nods, and one of his staff steps out of the corner of the room to retrieve the signed contract. You keep your eyes on Yoongi, watching him as he receives the contract from the staff who quickly retreats into the shadows. The exchange looks like a choreographed exposition, mesmerising, that you almost cannot look away.

Not that you want to.

Your gaze remains locked on him as Yoongi takes his time to read things over, flipping through the pages as if to make sure that nothing was missed, before he finally puts his signature.

"Very well," he says once he is done. He puts the lid back on his pen before slipping it into the front pocket of his shirt, right back to where it belongs. "I, for one, am pleased to find that we still share the same ideals about this arrangement."

He nods again, and the staff returns to put away the contract before leaving the two of you in private. "I'm glad that things are finally settled. I'm sure you've thought deeply about this too."

Nodding, you muster a smile. "As I've told you before, it was easier for me to make a decision once everything has settled down."

Yoongi gives you a knowing smile. "Now that the terms of the contract are settled," he says, "I will arrange everything that we need for our next steps in the arrangement. I'll set up the date for the public marriage proposal and the engagement party. You can give me any input on these matters anytime you'd like."

"Of course," you say, nodding before briefly looking away. Before, you hadn't been anxious about this matter, even as you were thinking it through on your end. But now, hearing how close everything is to becoming reality makes your heart race with uneasiness and thrill at the same time that you find it hard to remain calm.

Thankfully, Yoongi doesn't seem to notice this as continues, "Three months seems soon enough, but I suppose it is quite enough time to grieve, isn't it? We can wait a few more weeks if you'd like. I'm quite sure that people won't have any problems seeing you accepting a new wedding proposal by then. But if you wish to delay until—"

You quickly shake your head and deny it before he can continue further. "I don't think it will matter how much longer we wait. Even if this arrangement happens in three more years, people will still have questions. I've already prepared to deal with all the gossip and public assumptions anyway, so the faster we deal with this, might be for the better."

Something glimmers in Yoongi's gaze when he hears you saying this. For a second, you almost believe that the look he is giving you carries a semblance of pride. But you cannot be too sure about it when Yoongi is always quick to hide it, putting it under the mask that he always wears whenever he is with you and many others.

The mask which hides his feelings and unspoken intentions, crafted from the years he spent dealing with people who are vying for his position, to rob it off his hands.

"If you are sure," he says, more of a question than a statement.

"I am sure," you answer him, before tilting your head. "But do we really have to make the proposal so grandiose and—public?"

Yoongi softly chuckles. "Of course, we do, if we want to get our point across. It will be the only way to let the world know of our future plans, and to announce that there will no longer be any chance for anyone else to offer you a hand in marriage once I am in the picture." He stops as he pours more coffee into his cup. "Tell me, ______. Have my words come true, about people pestering you with your plans in the company after the things regarding your late fiancé settled down?"

With a resigned sigh, you can only nod. "Yes, they have," you answer, barely keeping yourself from rolling your eyes.

You still remember being dumbfounded at the comment that Yoongi made back at the funeral service, when he talked about the possibilities of other people vying for your father's business and making a move to try and fill the newly empty position left behind by your late fiancé.

For days after, you remained in denial, refusing to believe that anyone would have the audacity to even think of such a thing when you were still grieving, and while your father's company was still struggling to cover the unfinished business that was left behind in your late fiancee's sudden passing. And yet, it still happened, just like how Yoongi had predicted it would.

"Not more than two weeks after the funeral, my father kept getting contacts from his colleagues, questioning him about whether or not he had chosen someone else to be his new future son-in-law and successor, or trying to poke into my business. They kept questioning him when I'd be moving on to focus on my old business again," you relay everything that has been going on with a scoff.

"Even a part of the stakeholders were trying to claim that I am deemed unfit to handle such a huge line of business, especially when I've stepped away from technology industries for quite some time before I came back into it."

If there is one thing that you despise the most about the society that has been a part of your family's life for a long time, it would be the demeaning way these people treat women in the business. They had done the same to your mother, through her years in business, while she stood by your father's side, and now they are doing the same to you.

But for once, you were grateful for them to show their true colours so early, proving to you just how fragile your position would be should you take on the responsibility with your own hands, which had later become the reason why you became so determined to accept Yoongi's proposal.

"Those men are wrong. I know for sure that you will be most fitting to take on the position as your father's second if you wish," Yoongi argues, surprising you at how quickly he takes your side. But perhaps you shouldn't be too surprised, knowing that he has already shown much respect to you for a long time.

Yet you choose not to say anything in return for his compliment. Nothing to offer him but a grateful smile.

"Now that our dinner has been concluded and the contract is settled," you speak instead, "perhaps it would be best that I retire for the night and leave. I've taken enough of your time already, I'm sure."

Looking over to the corner of the room, you try to see if you can catch the attention of Yoongi's staff who remain on watch to guide you out, only to have Yoongi waving his hand, stopping the staff from making a move.

"I wouldn't mind having you stay longer," Yoongi says with a small grin, "but you're right. It would be too dark once you get home if you grant my wish." Yoongi gracefully leaves his seat and walks across to yours, taking the honour of pulling your chair back.

He takes your hand to help you up. "Thank you for giving your precious time to join me for dinner," he says, as he gently slips his other hand to the small of your back. "Come. I shall walk you to the front door."

Yoongi keeps his palm on your back as he guides you across his mansion. The place is quiet, aside from the limited staff he has around, there is not a sign of anyone else present.

"I don't normally stay here," Yoongi had explained earlier when you first questioned it. "I usually stay in my penthouse downtown, where it's closer to work. I only invited you here because it's quiet here, and I was sure that it would be most comfortable for us to discuss this matter in a place away from prying eyes."

Your recollection of the conversation you shared over dinner drifts back and forth as you walk together with him, a way for you to distract yourself from his dominating presence—and to distract yourself from the touch of his hand on the small of your back.

There is a subtle warmth in his touch that feels foreign, yet comforting and welcomed at the same time. This would be the first time that you are in such close proximity to him, the first touch he gives you since the day of the funeral when he took your hand for the first time.

You try your best not to focus on it, hoping not to get affected, yet you cannot help but notice the flutter that is slowly rising in your chest.

You have no idea why you are reacting this way. A part of you refuses to try and understand the reason why, yet another is trying to look more closely into yourself to understand why you are responding to someone like him so easily.

Thankfully, just when you are so close to losing your calm, you have arrived at the front door, with Yoongi opening it to let you pass. He turns to you, looking hesitant for a moment, yet curious, as he looks into your eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking," he says, his voice so gentle it sounds almost like a whisper. "When was your wedding day supposed to happen?"

At the mention of your supposed wedding, your breath gets caught in your throat. The flutters you felt in your chest immediately cease, replaced by a dull ache that you haven't felt for a while.

Swallowing the tightness in your throat, you muster a smile. You have been expecting him to question you about it for a while now so it shouldn't be surprising to hear it now. If only he had asked you this all those months ago, you know that the hurt would have been too much for you to say anything. But now, looking deep inside you, you feel almost nothing.

Nothing but numbness in your heart when you think of what could never be.

"Today," you answer, your voice just as soft, and the light in his eyes grows dim. "Today was supposed to be my wedding day."

Yoongi lowers his gaze and steps aside. But right before you can take another step to walk out the door, he gently takes your hand in his once again. This time, his touch lingers, even as he looks over to your waiting car outside.

"I didn't think you'd be driving on your own," he mutters softly, before turning to meet your gaze again to add, "With the circumstances, I mean."

Giving him a bitter smile, you choose to admit the truth. "For a while, I couldn't," you say to him. "But I'm a big girl, Yoongi. I had to learn to take care of myself."

Yoongi remains silent for a moment. His gaze is locked on yours, searching, before he nods and leans down to kiss the back of your hand. "Then please drive safely," he says as he straightens back up, his words sound genuine that the breath you take after trembles.

"I will," you promise with a whisper. "Good night, Yoongi. I will be waiting for your call." 

The sky has grown dark when you drive your car into the driveway of your parents' luxurious mansion.

The crunching sound of gravel under the tires of your car breaks through your wandering mind, bringing back your focus to the present. You find the perfect spot to park the car at the front of the mansion, right next to the silver sedan that your mother often uses to drive through the city. You take your time, staying in the car for a moment to calm your nerves before turning the engine off and stepping out of the car.

Stepping inside the mansion, silence is the only thing that welcomes you. There is a different kind of stillness in your parents' mansion compared to what you felt back at Yoongi's home. An unsettling mood which has only gotten worse ever since the incident which happened to your late fiancé.

And that feeling follows you as you make your way towards the back of the mansion.

Once again, your mind chooses to wander in the quiet. Thinking back to the days you spent your childhood living in this place.

It feels like forever ago since the last time this place felt lively.

Your parents have always been the only ones living here, with only a limited group of staff staying in the mansion once evening comes. For years since you returned to the city, you have chosen to live in your studio loft near downtown where you are granted more privacy and less of the superficial part of your family's lifestyle that you don't have much love for.

The sitting lounge at the back of the mansion is where you know you will be able to find her. Especially at nights like this, when your father is still at the office, the staff had mostly been sent home or retreated to their quarters, and her mind would be at the loudest.

Entering the room, you find it just as dark and quiet as the rest of the mansion, with only a couple of wall sconces and the lit-up fireplace illuminating the room.

Right in front of the hearth, your mother stands with her eyes on the dancing flame and a glass of wine in one of her hands. While the room is warm, the way she has her other arm wrapped around her torso makes it seem like she is feeling cold. It draws shivers through your body as you slowly walk across the room to meet her.

The closer you are to your mother, the less you feel the desire to let your presence known. The haunted look in her eyes that has been there for as long as you can remember seems to have gotten deeper, darker, and more daunting. For the first time, she seems so fragile to your eyes that it almost seems as if she can easily break if you are not careful.

Yet you know that she is unbreakable.

The dark years that your family's business had to endure before you and your late fiancé managed to save it from falling to the ground seem to have left a deep wound in your mother's heart. As if the near downfall of Lacuna Technologies and your family's fortune had been a huge blow to her heart that she has yet to recover from. And it was made worse by your late fiancee's passing that came so suddenly, when it was obvious how excited she had been to watch you become a bride.

Thinking about the days and nights you spent talking about the wedding with her often hurts. You wonder if she still has problems in letting those moments go. Your grief has been deep, but it may have triggered something inside your mother which has made her change this much.

"Evening, Mom," you gently greet her, pulling her from her trailing thoughts. The slow blink of her eyes becomes the only reaction she gives you before she turns to you, the grief and sorrow in her eyes appearing briefly before she hides it away with a nod.

"You're here," she says with a smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes. "I wasn't expecting you to return so soon."

Tossing back the rest of her drink, she looks down at her empty glass before offering, "Care for a drink?"

"No, thank you, Mom. I have to drive home after this, you know that."

Scoffing, your mother turns away from the fireplace to pour some more wine into her glass.

How much have you been drinking, Mom? You wonder as she slowly takes a hefty drink, causing the somber look in her eyes to glimmer darker.

Sighing, she lowers her glass, yet makes no move to take a seat. "You could've stayed for the night, or you could've let the driver take you home like I asked you to."

"I prefer to drive on my own. It allows me to think." You lower your gaze, avoiding her eyes when you add, "Besides, I can't spend the rest of my life being in fear of sitting behind the wheels again."

At the corner of your eyes, you see your mother's shoulders growing tense. It drives a deep guilt in your chest for bringing it up, and you hate how it drives her to take another drink, as if trying to wash away bad memories.

"I suppose people have different ways to deal with their trauma," she murmurs, almost to herself. She turns back to face the fireplace again when she asks, "And how was your meeting?"

Something in her voice makes you flinch. The way she says those words makes you feel uneasy. But you refuse to let her see it, knowing how easily she can use it to her own will. Just like how she has often used your weaknesses for her own gain.

"The meeting went as well as expected, Mom. Everything will be set, and all I have to do is wait until Min Yoongi finishes dealing with all the preparation needed. We barely have to do anything until—"

"And how long will this arrangement last?"

You look up, confused as to what she may have meant. "I'm sorry, Mom. But what do you mean?"

"The contract," your mother says as she turns to you again. "Did he set a time limit for this"—she dismissively waves her hand—"agreement you are making with him? Has he set up a timeline to mark when the deal will end?"

You shake your head. "No, Mom. As I've told you before. The contract doesn't work that way. The marriage will not end unless we both agree with—"

"Then I will give you the time limit for joining this contract of yours," she cuts you off before you can explain further. "Three months. That's all I give you."

"What—? What the hell are you saying, Mom?" You look at her with wide eyes. Your mother may have been more demanding than usual as of late, especially when it comes to having you work by your parents' side to keep the company from crumbling to dust, yet what she is demanding from you now sounds ludicrous, even to her standard.

"Mom, three months would be too short of a time to gain anything from this. I spent more than two years with Jinyoung to solve the problems that Dad's company was dealing with, and even with the amount of time we put in, we still couldn't do as much as we wanted to. How do you think I am supposed to manage with only—"

"Fine, then I'll give you six," she insists with a huff, responding to you with a disapproving tone as if you were a child saying the most impudent thing she has ever heard. "I'm giving you six months to save our company, to save our family, and bring them all down in exchange for what they've put us through."

"But—" you gasp, "But, Mom. That's not how—"

"You have six months, _______. Six months to bring down MYG Holdings, its mother company, and every single one attached to them, along with every fortune and every single dime they have," she snaps at you, and she is not done. "Bury them deep in the ground and leave them to rot, just the way they tried to do it to us. That is the only reason why I am letting you do this."

She moves closer as she says this, shouting her demand while pointing a finger at you, giving you no chance to deny her. Your mother lowers her voice as she stands right before you. "And don't you even for a second dare to change that indecisive mind of yours after what you promised me."

Pressing your lips, you hold back from saying the words that you wish you could say to her. There is nothing that you can say which can change her mind anyway. Not when your mother is once again taken over by her grief and anger that she has harboured for a long time, and not when all the plans have been set in place.

You keep your thoughts to yourself as she points at you, reminding you of how you had gotten to this point in the first place.

"Avenge our fall, ________. Tear them apart into small, rotting pieces, which is what they deserve after all that's been done to us. If you can't do this for your father and me, the least you can do is get through with it for your dead fiancé."

She takes a deep breath, just as you are starting to lose yours. "Do it for Jinyoung," she whispers. "You know damn well that they owe him that much."