Love is a Wicked Thing

It’s just not fair, the way he can bend you with your tender flesh is in his diabolical hands. Your desire for him remains a steady constant–but maybe your goals have changed.

As you look at yourself in the mirror of your new rosewood vanity, you make a new promise to yourself (for what that's worth, considering how you have gone from wanting to escape to accepting your role as Donaka’s new pet) that even if you are flung into this new lifestyle of stupidly overpriced luxury, you will not let the things rule you. You will not become like your mother or your step-mother or your half-siblings, caught up in the next paltry triumph of who outdressed who or who has the latest and greatest designer bullshit.

Perhaps with some cheek, you resolve that you are going to have your cake, and eat it too. If it makes Donaka happy to show off his wealth on the canvas of your body…fine. Let him. Because when that man is pleased with you, you get your way in other things that are important, like cancer treatment for little girls who are dear to you.

Mei showed you a video of her sister that morning, smiling happily and waving at the phone. The doctors say the treatment is going as well as it possibly could, and there is hope for her. You hadn’t forgotten about little Jing, but seeing her certainly put things back in perspective for you after you spent the night feeling sorry for yourself.

You have to admit, not all of your goals are so altruistic. There is an idea that exists on the outskirts of your mind; almost more of an outline of a thought than something concrete, it is so ridiculous. But deep down, in the darkest dungeon of your heart, this thing has taken root and you have decided that someday, you are going to get that impossible man to admit that he loves you. Maybe then…all this will have been worth it. It is probably the closest thing to revenge you could ever manage to extract from him.

You really have lost your goddamn mind.

Later that afternoon you get to meet the stylist you didn’t even know you had. Apparently after some direction from Donaka on your preferences, she'd picked out all those beautiful items in your closet, and Ava Chan has come to the house armed with a rack of dresses and two assistants to whip you into shape for wherever the hell Donaka is taking you.

Mei sees them in, and you think you can see the curiosity shining in her eyes. “Can you stay?” you ask, not sure if this would be fun or boring for her.

Eagerly she nods, but then remembers Mrs. Yeung. “I'll get into trouble…”

She’s not wrong, and you think on it a moment. “Not if…you go to the kitchen for tea and snacks for our guests,” you say with a lift of eyebrows. “I’ll let her know.”

Mei hides a laugh behind her hand, knowing Mrs. Yeung will seethe over this new scheme for undermining her authority. You call the internal line to reach the chief housekeeper, a thing that usually only Donaka would do. Knowing full well the master is not at home, Yeung answers with a surly, “Wai?”

“Mrs. Yeung, I'm having Mei serve tea, and I will need her for the rest of the afternoon.”

Yeung answers with a few Cantonese curses she knows you won't understand under her breath. “What on earth could you need that useless girl for? No. She must finish mopping all the floors today.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow, Mrs. Yeung. Do jie!”

You hang up the phone before your former boss can offer further argument, though you hear the tinny strains of more wrathful words on the other end of the line. Mei’s eyes sparkle, and the two of you laugh like co-conspirators. “I think she just called me like…10 bad names,” you admit, giggling like a naughty child who just got away with all the cookies.

After Mei skips out to see about that tea Ava Chan shakes her head with amused disbelief. “Did I just witness a palace coup?”

“Totally bloodless,” you assure her with a cheeky smile.

At least…you hope so.

“So…what are we doing?” you ask, nervous and excited for what she has in store.

Ava claps her hands, rubbing them with glee. “Let me show you what I’ve brought.”

🌸🌸🌸

When you attempt to ferret out the location of your mystery destination in casual conversation Ava shakes her head emphatically. “I was specifically instructed not to tell you,” she imparts with regret, and you can’t help but wonder how exactly Donaka delivered this direction; you can practically hear the poor girl gulp with dread at the idea of slipping up.

“That’s fine,” you soothe her, backing off immediately. “I’m not trying to get anyone into trouble.”

She’s clearly relieved to hear this; perhaps her other well-heeled clients would have thrown more of a tantrum over not getting their way.

None of them have ever met the force that is Donaka Mark.

After this everyone relaxes a bit more around you, and the tension in the room shifts to something decidedly more congenial. Mei arrives with tea and sundries, and the fun begins.

While you try on dresses Mei eats most of the snacks, and Donaka’s severe bedchamber takes on the atmosphere of a middle-school sleepover withchatter while you try on your new clothes. The room erupts into laughter as your new girl gang attempts to teach you bad words in Cantonese (so that you’ll be better prepared for your next showdown with Mrs. Yeung, of course.)

Ava brought selections from Versace, Oscar de la Renta, Gucci, Giambattista Valli, and other brands you’ve never heard of. They’re expertly crafted garments in blacks and shimmering steel gray silks and satins, with bead details and damask weaving and metallic lace...how are you supposed to choose?

Yet there’s also a part of you that can’t help but wonder if this is another test set before you by Donaka. You are sure that even among these gorgeous garments, there is surely a wrong answer among them for that man.

Despite the more showy pieces that tickle your crow brain, you keep coming back to a simple black silk midi by Dolce & Gabbana with lace trim. It’s fairly tame by high-fashion standards, all except for a rather daring slit up the thigh. You keep thinking about those fabulous pearls that will be fastened around your neck. They’re the real show. Everything else is just background, including you, you’re afraid. You finally decide on that one, and then it’s on to hair and makeup.

Maybe you are happiest when you are wearing dust from the road and your trusty hiking boots…but as you look at the end result of Ava’s directions in the mirror, you have to admit that this is something…interesting too. You hardly recognize yourself, and despite your earlier reservations you’re infected with the energy of the moment from the excitement of your helpers and Mei. By the time they leave, you hope you can call your new acquaintances friends.

By the end of the primping whirlwind, choosing a dress and trying on a pair of sky-high Louboutin sandals, you are all talking and laughing. Ava has you standing in front of the mirror for the final inspection, plucking at the dress to make it drape just so. You have to hand it to her: she is very good at what she does.

As Isabel is misting you with one last spritz of hair spray a voice from the doorway makes you all jump out of your skins: “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

The girls immediately scramble to gather up their things at the sight of the master of the house; you’ve all been caught out having a very good time. You feel surprisingly calm, however, and the two of you lock gazes through the flurry of Ava and her assistants cleaning up the room.

The heat in that man’s eyes could warm you through a blizzard in Hokkaido.

He stands with hands in the pockets of his dark suit, a rock amidst rushing water, waiting through the flurry for the two of you to be alone. “Thank you, ladies,” Donaka offers with a menacing politeness as they file out with their heads bowed.

“Do jie nin, Mark sin saang,” says Ava quietly, the last one to go.

He really does have a way of making you feel as though he’s caught you at something…

Or maybe you’re in trouble.

After the door shuts with a soft snick he approaches you with a gimlet stare. “My assistant received an irate phone call from Mrs. Yeung this afternoon. Apparently my household is going to pieces, and she cannot possibly go on without hiring two new maids thanks to my meddling mistress stealing her employees.”

You still can’t tell if he’s truly angry or fucking with you.

“Meddling mistress, huh? I don’t think that’s quite what she called me over the phone.”

Standing toe to toe with you, he tilts your head up with a single finger beneath your chin, inspecting the end result of all Ava’s tricks. Finally, the corner of his mouth ticks in a smirk, and a knot in your heart releases in relief.

“Be careful with your new power, bunny. Use it wisely.”

It’s the closest he’s come to saying you’re in charge of the house while he’s gone.

“I was polite about it,” you assure him, struggling not to squirm under his heated gaze. Tonight you have to be cool as a cucumber–you’ll face no greater test than withstanding the scrutiny of the man before you.

“Thoughtful of you.” His smile widens, and the warmth in your heart blooms outward through your body like a sunrise. “You look beautiful, y/n.”

“Thank you.”

His hand descends to encircle your neck, holding your fragile flesh ever so lightly. No matter your expression, you know he can feel your racing pulse fluttering against his fingertips like a trapped butterfly. No matter how good his mood, there is a tiny part of you that wonders if someday he might squeeze, just to see what happens.

Maybe you are falling in love with this man…but you’re not sure if you will ever totally trust him.

“Shall we add the final touches?”

Why does it sound ominous, when he says it that way? Maybe you’re just overly sensitive to everything, these days. But you still nod, and watch him disappear into the closet to access the hidden safe.

TBC...