Mirror, Mirror

IT WAS HER THIRD WEEK as Mrs. Ryu Harcourt, and Summerine was humming contentedly while arranging her newly purchased manga in her newly decorated library.

Embracing her role as Ryu Harcourt's wife was easily the best decision she had made.

Her husband was a dream, her staff at home was a dream, and her "job" as the billionaire's other half was the best dream of all.

All she had to do was attend parties, ribbon-cutting ceremonies, and product launches on his behalf.

Join him in business dinners on occasion.

Score above average grades in school.

And that was it.

Even better were the times they spent at home. If Ryu wasn't away because of one work emergency or another, he would always take the time to join her for meals and ask her about his day.

He hadn't even blinked when he had chanced upon the stacks of manga she had purchased with her allowance—-but had gently chastised her instead for not using his credit card.

'I'm your husband, Summerine. Charge whatever you want to my account. It's my job to provide for you.'

He was like the big brother she had always dreamed of having, never mind if there were still times her dreams of him were not sisterly—-

(Eww.)

You're just jealous.

(Of what? Being a wife with an unrequited love for her husband?)

La la la la la.

Summerine was determined not to let her Inner Troll burst her dream-like bubble. She had the best life, period, and most unexpectedly of all, even her own parents had yet to make any attempt to interfere in said best life.

It was as if they had completely washed their hands off her now that she was married to Ryu, and as much as the thought saddened her, Summerine was also quick to remind herself that she must not be greedy.

After all, her husband was a dream. Her job as his wife was a dream. Their staff was a dream, and—- oh!

Summerine absently caught sight of the apple trees outside her window and had a sudden craving for something crumbly and sweet.

Mm.

Chef Milo was always keen to remind her about dropping by his kitchen if she wanted anything special done. Maybe it was time to take him up on his offer?

Summerine was already busy imagining herself feasting on the most delicious slice of apple pie as she stepped out of her library and took a right turn here, a left turn there, and... uh oh.

It had happened again!

Summerine had lost herself in the maze of mirrors, but...she was not going to panic.

This was the ninth time that she had gotten lost, but... there was nothing to fear , Summerine reminded herself.

As mistress of Kagami , every secret door in this house was programmed to unlock after a quick scan of her fingerprints.

Ryu himself had told her this, albeit rather resignedly, after finding his wife asleep on the floor in one of the unused guest rooms that she had been unable to "escape".

I'm going to make it out this time, Summerine swore.

The trick to finding her way back to the main corridor of her home was to just unlock one secret door after another.

So...

Unlock. Unlock. Unlock.

Curiosity always struck every time she thought about all the mirrors in his home. But she had never found the courage to ask the reason behind this. Billionaires were entitled to their quirks, and she never wanted Ryu to think she was judging him or anything.

People might think he was the king of vanity for having so many mirrors in his home, but not her!

Maybe...this was just his way of creating his own Versailles in Evergreen, Texas.

Or maybe this was his low-key way of disproving feng shui since mirrors facing each other were supposedly bad luck?

In any case, Summerine was determined to be just as supportive of his love for—- whoa. Another secret door had her stumbling into another secret room, only this new one had her covering her mouth in shock.

Guns of every caliber that were mounted on the wall. An assortment of spy cameras and lockpicking devices that were lined up in a glass case. And drawers full of cash, credit cards from different countries, and so, so many fake IDs.

Oh my goodness!

This could only mean one thing...couldn't it?

When Ryu had first moved to San Antonio, so much mystery surrounded the origin of his wealth.

His parents were supposedly murdered in South Africa.

His billion-dollar inheritance in diamonds supposedly liquidated in cash.

A large portion of his past unaccounted for, supposedly due to the years he had spent volunteering for the Red Cross in war-ravaged countries.

There were so many questions one could ask but never managed to...because of quiet charm. He just seemed so, so perfect that no one had cared to look past the surface. And maybe, no one ever had the opportunity to do so...except for his own wife.

Summerine slowly backed out of the room.

Oh no.

Was this why his staff would only smile and change the subject every time she asked them about the unique interior of his home?

Did the mirrors have nothing to do with her husband's eccentric taste in design...but everything to do with defending his home if it were under attack?

Could the gorgeous billionaire Summerine had married and whom everyone in San Antonio worshipped as the perfect gentleman...be a modern-day mob boss in disguise?