Author: [writers hub]
The grand receiving room of the Botermet mansion was a symphony of hushed opulence. Every surface gleamed, every piece of art seemed to hold its breath. Zara stood beside Ragnar, her heart a frantic flutter against her ribs, as Director Ahn opened the imposing doors. She braced herself for a new enemy, a new challenger to Ragnar's power, perhaps even an unexpected, vengeful ally of Bondi.
But the figure who entered was none of those.
A woman, tall and strikingly beautiful, glided into the room with an almost regal air. Her dark hair was styled in a severe, elegant chignon, and her traditional Korean hanbok, made of the finest silk in a deep, rich indigo, seemed to shimmer with its own light. Her features were sharp, refined, and her eyes, though currently filled with a cool disdain, held an undeniable resemblance to Ragnar's own. An older version, perhaps, or a female counterpart.
Zara's blood ran cold. This wasn't a corporate rival or an underworld figure. This was family. Ragnar's family. And the look on her face clearly stated that Zara was a very unwelcome intrusion.
Ragnar's posture, usually a picture of rigid control, subtly stiffened. "Mother," he greeted, his voice devoid of any warmth, a flat acknowledgment rather than a filial welcome.
The woman, Madam Yoon-Hee Botermet, Ragnar's mother, surveyed Zara with a gaze so chillingly dismissive, Zara felt her meticulously constructed composure threaten to shatter. Then, her eyes returned to Ragnar, piercing him with a silent accusation.
"Ragnar," Madam Yoon-Hee stated, her voice a low, melodious tone, exquisitely refined, yet sharp as a blade. "I expected you to return to the main family compound after such a… decisive victory. Not remain hidden away with your latest acquisition." Her gaze flickered back to Zara, lingering on the fine silk of Zara's dress, a silent judgment that stripped Zara bare.
"Mother, this is Zara Jones," Ragnar introduced, his voice clipped, almost curt. He didn't offer a hand, didn't make a move to close the distance between them. The tension in the room was palpable, thick with years of unspoken conflict. "My wife."
Madam Yoon-Hee's perfectly sculpted lips curled into a faint, disdainful smile. "Wife," she echoed the word, drawing it out like a poisoned dart. "Yes, the news has, regrettably, reached the family. A shocking development, even for you, my son. To marry so hastily, and to someone of… such unknown origins." Her eyes, cold and assessing, swept over Zara again, a clear insult.
Zara felt a familiar surge of anger, but this time, it was mixed with a potent dose of humiliation. This was Ragnar's mother, a woman who wielded power not through brute force or sharp intellect, but through ancient lineage and social authority. She was a different kind of predator, subtle but equally deadly.
"Madam," Zara began, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "My origins may be humble, but my intentions towards Chairman Botermet are..."
"Irrelevant," Madam Yoon-Hee cut her off, her voice suddenly sharper, her patience clearly thin. "Your intentions, Miss Jones, are of no concern to me. My only concern is the Botermet legacy. And this… arrangement… is a stain upon it. Especially with Mina Song's family already making inquiries about your sudden appearance."
Ragnar stepped forward, his body subtly shielding Zara from his mother's direct, aggressive gaze. "Mother, this marriage was a strategic necessity. A counter-move against Bondi and Kim. Zara is an integral part of securing our position." His voice, though still calm, held an undercurrent of steel, a warning.
Madam Yoon-Hee laughed, a short, brittle sound that held no humor. "Strategic necessity? Ragnar, you speak of necessity when you are simply cleaning up your own messes. You could have chosen anyone. Someone with appropriate standing. Instead, you chose… her." Her gaze, filled with years of disappointment and disdain, settled on Zara once more. "Do you truly expect the family council to accept this charade? Do you expect her to bear the next heir to the Botermet name? A woman who barely knows the first thing about our traditions, our duties?"
The words struck Zara like a physical blow. Bear the next heir. The implications of her "contractual" marriage had just broadened, spiraling into dynastic pressures she hadn't even considered. Her primary purpose wasn't just to be a prop in a corporate war, but a potential incubator for the next generation of this ruthless family.
Ragnar's jaw tightened, a vein throbbing at his temple. "That is not your concern, Mother. And it is my decision."
Madam Yoon-Hee's eyes gleamed with a chilling resolve. "Oh, it is always my concern, Ragnar. Just as your choice of a… wife… reflects directly on the main family's reputation. We have expectations. And if you wish to retain your full authority, if you wish to see your future plans for Botermet Industries come to fruition, then this… alliance… must be ratified by the family council. And for that, your wife must prove herself. Publicly."
A fresh wave of cold fear washed over Zara. Prove herself. To this woman? To this ancient, powerful family? After all she had endured, there was yet another gauntlet she had to run.
Madam Yoon-Hee turned, her gaze returning to Zara, a faint, cruel smile on her lips. "You may have survived Bondi, little designer. But the Botermet family has its own trials. And trust me, they are far more intricate than any underworld skirmish. Be prepared, Zara Jones. You are about to face your true test."
With that chilling pronouncement, Madam Yoon-Hee swept out of the room, leaving behind an oppressive silence that was far more terrifying than any battle cry. Ragnar stood rigid, his face grim. He glanced at Zara, his expression a mixture of unspoken warning and a strange, almost regretful, resignation.
Zara's breath hitched. The underworld had been one war. The family, she realized, would be an entirely different, perhaps even more insidious, kind of hell.