Page 11 of Fallen Starboy

Chapter

Seven

ARISTA

I sat across from my daughter—Jun's daughter. She wasn't mine. I had no claim to her, no matter how much I looked like her. No matter how similar we might be. No matter how much I regretted my choices, she was never going to be mine, and I had no claim to her.

She happily chowed down on a blueberry pancake from the street vendor around the corner, rolled up so she could dip it in her syrup without getting her hands sticky.

She was seven, but honestly, how much did I know about handling kids? I didn’t know if she was past the whole messy fingers phase. I’d never spent a day in my life raising a kid?—

And there it was again, that regret I carried with me even before she and her father stepped foot into this country. The regret I thought I could live with every day, the regret that seeped into every porous bone in my body and took root like an invasive vine.

She was beautiful. All smiles, chatty, and trusting. And so fucking smart.

“Who taught you to roll your pancakes like that, Yejin?” I wondered aloud, not expecting her to actually answer.

Instead, she grinned around a mouthful of food, swallowed, and batted those eyelashes at me, every inch the little princess. “My uncle Minho. He said he learned it from—” she looked around and leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper behind the back of her hand. “From a girl he used to know.”

I knew damn well which woman she referred to. Minho used to be so messy as a teen. And he liked to sleep late, which meant breakfast for him was usually on the go.

The memory brought a smile to my lips. Even though I hadn’t been there, the echo of my presence lived on. And Yejin had grown up with that echo.

A pitiful substitute.

“Why are your eyes watering?” she asked me suddenly, peering up at my lashes where tears had begun to collect. “Do you have allergies?”

“Uh, yeah, allergies,” I agreed readily, glad that she’d given me an easy out. “I forgot my medicine today.”

She handed me a napkin, all smiles again. “Daddy makes his phone tell him when he has to do something. Maybe you should have a reminder like that, too.”

I smiled at the idea of Jun needing six alarms to remember a damn thing. “Maybe.”

Just as we were finishing our dinner, my phone began to vibrate. I flipped it open to see a text from Jun, and another from an unknown number. Shoving the likely spam message to the side, I opened Jun’s instead.

Hair is a multi step process. Will be a few hours. Security says they’re taking me from here to the interview, and can bring me home. Make sure my daughter makes it home safe.

I frowned at his message, the passive-aggressiveness bleeding from every letter on my screen.

You knew he would hate you, likely for the rest of your lives.

And once upon a time, I’d been okay with it.

If he hated me from a distance, I’d never have to be subjected to his hatred and resentment in real time.

Having someone loathe you this deeply, in the house you share, every single second of every day, was harder than I’d thought.

I had to get him an assistant, so I could get away from this, and fast. Staying would only hurt us all in the end.

Running was what I did best.

Instead of heading right back to the house, I decided to take Yejin out and do something.

I didn’t need a bodyguard—Yejin was safe with me.

Nobody here knew who she was, nor did I draw any eager eyes of cameras.

Jun, in full makeup, however, was an international icon.

If he came out in public without a disguise, he’d need an entourage to keep the mobs away.

“Miss Arista, Miss Arista, look!”

I followed her little finger and spotted the huge blue parrot perched just feet from us.

His beady eyes regarded Yejin coolly, along with all the other kids around her at the exotic bird exhibit of the zoo.

A child in the corner started crying, and the parrot turned his direction, mocking him with a mimic of his wails.

Which, of course, set the other children off in fits of laughter. All except Yejin.

She tilted her head to the side and regarded the bird with confusion, her tiny brows scrunched together. “Why is he being mean?” she asked quietly, her eyes never leaving his as he mimed the other child’s call for his mother.

“Mama! Mama! Birds are scary! Mama, mama!”

“He’s a bird, sweety,” I explained slowly, hoping a simple explanation would placate her. “He doesn’t understand things like we do. To him, there is no right or wrong. There just . . . is.”

She seemed to ponder my words as the bird turned away, returning its attention to the original crying child. His mother had come running in response to his cries, and she now knelt at his side, comforting him with hushed murmurs and a soft smile filled with sympathy.

“He’ll be okay,” I assured her, seeing the way her brows scrunched up and her frown deepened. “His mom will take care of him.”

“Is that what moms do?” she asked suddenly, so quietly I nearly missed it. “Take care of you?”

I froze, realizing we were suddenly in very dangerous territory. “It’s one thing they do for you. But daddies do the same thing. And you have a very good daddy, Yejin.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, twisting her skirt in her fingers. “But he’s not a mom.”

I didn’t know what to say to comfort her.

I had no words that would ease her obvious sadness.

And anything I could say got stuck in my throat as the urge to hug her rose in me.

Like Yejin, though, I settled for twisting a stray lock of my hair around a finger, busying the itchy hands that wanted to comfort my daughter.

The one I left behind.

I’d done this to her. Left her with a hole she couldn’t fill. A sadness her father clearly wasn’t enough to ease, no matter how amazing of a dad he was. And that reminded me all the more of the weight of my decisions all those years ago.

“What would you like to do now, Yejin? Your daddy won’t be finished for a while. We could?—”

“It’s okay, Miss Arista. You don’t have to take me places today. I can just wait for Daddy like I always do.”

Her devotion to Jun was commendable. But I wasn’t about to let this day go to waste for her. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but didn’t get the chance?”

“I don’t know. There’s a lot I haven’t done.”

I smiled down at her, suddenly realizing how I could turn this day around. “Then let’s do it all!”

We hit the arcade, the chocolate factory, the petting zoo, even the museum, before finally finishing out the day at a local bakery I frequented for their delicious morning muffins.

By the time we rolled back into the house, it was growing dark outside, and the lights on inside the house were like a beacon of judgement.

It didn’t even occur to me how long we’d been gone. All I’d done that day was prioritize a little girl’s whims, giving her everything she wanted that Jun was too busy for.

I opened the door, juggling an armload of plushies from crane machines, Yejin hot on my heels.

And was met by a stern, angry glare from a pair of eyes I’d frequently drowned in a long time ago.

“Daddy! Look what we got!” Yejin bounded over to him with an eager smile, unable or perhaps unwilling to read the emotion in the room, or the animosity in his gaze that stayed pinned on me. “I won this for you.”

He accepted the little penguin she handed him with a soft smile, turning to her to examine the rest of her haul.

“It’s almost as cute as you.” His eyes cut to me, then back down to her, the momentary flicker of rage disappearing in a flash.

“Why don’t you take all these pretty animals up to your room and find them homes while Miss Arista and I have a little chat? ”

She was gone in a flash, talking to her new friends as she took the stairs two at a time, before the sound of her door shutting echoed over the railing.

And just like that, Jun was grabbing my wrist to drag me into the kitchen, where we wouldn’t be overheard by prying ears.

“Hey, now, wait just a second—what’s the big idea, huh? Let me go!”

He stopped dead center of the room, refusing to release his grip as we faced off in what had to be the most tense and drama-filled moment of our lives. A standoff that the wild west would have been jealous of. Instinctively, I crossed my arms over my chest, ready to fight fire with fire.

If I make him angry, maybe he’ll fire me. At least then I can get out of this fucking situation.

“And just where have you been all day with my daughter?” His eyes cut to his watch, then back to me, putting on the pressure, using tactics that reminded me of sitcom dads when their teenage daughter came home after curfew.

I was no teenager, and I wasn’t about to put up with this, either.

“All over,” I replied icily, “doing educational and fun things to keep her busy.”

“You were supposed to bring her home,” he growled, taking a step toward me. “Not run all over a strange town with no security and no protection.”

“Neither of us needs protection, thank you,” I said with a smirk, knowing I was right. “Today proves that. Nobody recognizes her on the street here. She’s just another kid out with her?—”

His eyes narrowed, those lashes tempting and mesmerizing. “Her what?” His gaze raked over my body from head to toe, making me feel somehow inadequate in the pregnant pause between his words. “Please, go ahead and finish that sentence. I’d love to hear the rest of it.”

“I took her to the zoo, the museum, the science center, the arcade, and she had three square meals today. Most of which were even healthy, thank you.” Dismissing his murderous glare, I turned my back to him and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water.

“And you never specified what I was supposed to do with her, by the way. I’m not a hired nanny. So I winged it.”

Those brows on his perfect fucking face rose as I lifted the water bottle to my lips and took a swallow, relishing the cool liquid against my throat. “How gracious of you to spend your hard-earned money taking my daughter out on the town today.”

I shrugged, playing it off. “The company paid for it all. I have a business card I use when I’m on the clock.”

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. He stepped forward again, and his arms came up to cage me in on either side, pinning me against the fridge door. “I warned you about getting close to her, Arista. And you know I hate to repeat myself.”

I wouldn’t be cowed by his bullshit posturing as a tough guy.

I brought my free hand up and jammed a long, manicured nail in the center of his chest. “I acted in the manner I determined best to complete my duties today, Jun. Whether or not you would have chosen different is of no consequence to me.” I flung the taunt out there, goading him, hoping that maybe he’d take the bait I was about to lay on the hook.

“If you’re so unhappy with my performance, then fire me.

I’ll be glad to go back to the company and let them know you’ve decided to go it alone. ”

His glare hardened to stone at the suggestion. “You know damn well I can’t do that.”

I did, in fact, know just how bad it would be for him if he did.

It would look like he was being ungrateful, a difficult client.

And though kNight Entertainment had dealt with worse, it wasn’t wise to make yourself look like a problem this early in a contract.

There was literally nowhere else to go after us.

We were the last chance for many of our clients.

“Then perhaps you’d like to back the fuck up and quit riding my ass, yeah?

Since you’re so against my decisions in this temporary role, I’ll be sure to push up the interviews for your assistant position to the next available time slot on your schedule.

It will be my top priority to find you a replacement?—”

“Don’t play games with me, Arista,” he growled, closing the gap between us as my hand pressed insistently against his chest. His very taut, muscular chest, hidden only beneath a thin layer of fabric. “I’m not the easy-to-rile teenager you used to know. I’ve grown up.”

As I breathed in, his scent flooded my senses, filling me with nostalgia and memories I’d buried a long ass time ago, hoping they’d stay there.

His hand gripping my wrists, holding them above my head as his lips caressed the sensitive skin where my throat met my shoulder.

Fingers on his other hand inching my skirt up, teasing my outer thigh as they met the hem of my panties.

Hot breath fanning over my ear as he whispered promises and fantasies in my ear before his teeth closed over the shell of it and nipped me playfully.

The hard, insistent curve of his cock through his pants as he ground his hips against me, moaning softly in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability and need.

Did he ever replay those scenes in his head of us?

Did it even matter?

We were like fire and gasoline—when we met, sparks flew, but we burned anything we touched.

It was better if we never happened again. Things were better like this for all of us.

Maybe if I told myself that enough times, it’d be true.