Chapter 53
Seoul, Korea
Highway
Lula split her attention between the road and rearview mirror. She should have been looking for anyone following them, but her attention was on the two in the backseat. Never had her brother slipped up as he kept doing, and it was concerning her.
Was that what cost him the family honor in Japan?
Did he do the same type of reckless behavior, and that was what caused the job to suddenly terminate without notice? And that caused their father to disown him?
If she asked when he was drunk would he tell her?
Not likely.
Kita had his eyes closed and curled up against him was the root of the problem; Rain was softly purring in her sleep, drooling on him even, but he didn’t care. His arm was protectively wrapped around her so Rain could comfortably rest her head on his shoulder.
Even in a drunken slumber the young woman didn’t miss the opportunity and nuzzled against his neck.
That, Lula expected.
But letting her do it wasn’t.
There was something different about her big brother. He looked different; the tension he usually carried at the corners of his mouth was gone, and there was a small smile on his face.
Why?
What did she miss to cause this?!
If they were caught on camera or someone recognized Myo Mi-Sun it would cause problems. They’d have to hurry to get in front of it, and that would require Lula asking for help from the very last person she ever wanted to be indebted to.
She wasn’t getting paid nearly enough for this much work and stress.
“You are staring,” Kita mumbled without bothering to open his eyes.
“Because I am concerned, Brother,” Lula retorted.
“Over what this time?”
“This is not like you in the least. I cannot remember the last time you drank,” she commented.
He smiled. “I know. I will regret it in the morning, but it was what the client needed to do.”
“What do you mean?” she reluctantly asked.
“Seon Rain does not know normality,” Kita said, absently caressing the back of the young woman using him as a pillow. “Every aspect of her life from a very young age has been dictated by someone else, someone that did so without regard for what she wanted. She cannot wear certain colors, cannot dress a certain way, cannot do this, cannot do that. And for what?”
Lula gave him a look in the review mirror. “We were raised much the same,” she pointed out.
“We were raised to understand honor and sacrifice, valor and country,” he argued, looking at her from the backseat. “Love and respect. Home and family. Conformity as part of the job. Never was it controlled in such a manner. Mother would never permit it! Your favorite color is magenta and Lucien’s is dark green. You like that color because of the center of the Lycaste Orchid is magenta; your favorite flower. Lucien prefers dark greens because it reminds him of the forest.”
“And your point?” she asked.
“You like Lycaste Orchids because you like them,” Kita reiterated. “Lucien likes dark green because of Shiratani Unsuikyo, where he used to run and play when he was a rambunctious boy. Seon Rain has never been given that type of opportunity to like something simply because she likes it. She’s never been given the chance to find something she likes, a passion or love, even a hobby. Acting she only did to put a roof over Chairman Hu and Hu Dae-Ho’s heads and food on the table. She continues to do so because she feels obligated to, not because she enjoys it. Our authoritarian upbringing never restricted us from following our passions, trying new things, or having a hobby. Freedom, in its most simplistic form, Seon Rain has been denied her entire life.”
Lula didn’t understand.
“And kung fu flicks, sushi, and sake is what she wants?” she asked, confused.
“Normality is what she wants,” Kita said. “Seon Rain just wants to be a normal, Korean young woman enjoying the redundancies of a completely normal life. And that is what I gave her, for just one night. We drank sake, ate sushi, and watched a movie. Then I carried her out front to wait for our ride. To keep from passing out myself, we swayed back and forth in what she insultingly called dancing. Nothing more and nothing less, Sister.”
“Is that what happened with the other one?” Lula asked. “You wined and dined her with kung fu, sushi, and sake?”
Kita closed his eyes. “I do not speak of clients, past or present,” he reminded her in a clipped tone. “You would be wise to remember that, Sister.”
She opened her mouth to press it, but promptly closed it when a black on black Maserati went racing around them at an extremely high rate of speed.
“Luci better not get pulled over again,” Lula grumbled under her breath, the tail lights of the sports car fading more and more into the darkness as it easily outdistanced them. “Diplomatic immunity doesn’t apply to traffic violations.”
Kita chuckled. “Yes, Lucien knows that, and most likely he’ll out run them like he did in Tokyo when he questionably procured that Le Mans Prototype. You have to admire his ability to drive.”
Lula rolled her eyes. “You and Mother find amusement in our troublesome baby brother’s antics, but Father has a very different opinion on them-”
“Father always has,” he interrupted. “Until he gets that stick surgically removed from his a*s he’ll never appreciate Lucien’s lightheartedness.”
That, was a first.
Never had Kita ever spoken harshly of their father or his anything but fun personality.
Murai Yasuhiro was not the smiling, happy go lucky type. Kita got much of his personality from him, it seemed, but Lula is starting to see more of Evie Blanchar’s, their mother, personality coming through.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
Lula didn’t know.
But what she did know was it is troubling and yet another thing she needed to worry about.
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