CHAPTER THIRTY

Yu-Chuen Park paced in front of the mirror in the presidential suite of the Mayflower Hotel. The historic hotel had housed presidents, kings, queens, and dignitaries, and she was among them. As it should be.

When her own son refused to answer her calls, she had no choice but to end his life. One more dead foreigner in America wouldn't be detected, nor would anyone care. She looked down at her notes, rehearsing what she planned to say to the U.S. president. Known to be a man with great empathy, Yu-Chuen planned to play off of that as much as possible.

With both of her biological children dead, there was no one with claim to the head of her country except her. Staring at her reflection, she ran a finger along her reconstructed jawline, smiling at the still unfamiliar face. The surgeon had been quite skilled and did exactly as she asked. She still looked like herself but better. Younger. Tighter.

When she and Park married, it was for convenience and political motivations by her father. He knew that Park would be an iron fist needed by his daughter. He didn't realize that they would plot to kill him, and their games would destroy hundreds, if not thousands, of lives.

At first, they played the doting husband and wife. Then, one night, after he'd come home late from another night of philandering, she threw a vase at his head, and the games began. He beat her senseless, but when she recovered, she discovered she craved it again. He'd raped her repeatedly, abused her body, yet the thrill and excitement drove her.

Discovering that she was pregnant was disappointing. She nearly ended the pregnancy until her husband convinced her it was important. They never expected twins. Almost immediately, her son left her side, going with Park.

Taking her daughter to America had been a plot twist with her father. Wi-Kym could not imagine why his daughter was leaving their country, but it afforded Park the opportunity to earn his favor and position his son for the presidency when Wi-Kym died.

It was a human chessboard. Move Hae-Won here. Slide U-Jin there. Manipulate Park over here. There were many times when she wanted to kill her daughter herself. She wanted the feeling of taking a life, a life that she created.

Instead, she manipulated her daughter, filling her with concern, uncertainty, hatred, and, most of all, fear.

"It's time to leave for the White House," said her assistant.

She'd selected him from a long list of possible candidates. Candidates that had nothing of what she needed politically. She needed someone to do her bidding – in the office, on the road, and in her bed. She needed someone to abuse her body without leaving visible marks on her face, neck, or arms.

Turning, she smiled up at the handsome Korean soldier. He was large – but not too large – and muscular. Tasty.

"You were exceptional last night," she grinned.

"Thank you," he nodded. She ran her hand over his groin, feeling for the growing member beneath his pants.

"Tonight, I want you to fill me everywhere. Do you understand?" He looked down at her, his brows furrowing.

"I understand."

"Good. Let's not keep the president waiting. I need him to support me."

"Yes, madam."

"Madam President," she smirked. "You should get used to saying that."

He followed her down the hallway to the elevators, two other guards joining them. When they reached the lobby, a blinding array of cameras flashed in their faces. All the while, the woman smiled and waved.

Today would be her coming out party.