NowNever

I'M SORRY TO DO THIS .

But I have to.

I'm twenty, not two.

I'm a full-fledged adult with a fully functioning brain, and I respectfully decline to marry just because you want me to.

The words sounded good in Summerine's mind, but the moment she faced the mirror and allowed herself to imagine saying the exact same words—-

I can't.

Her courage dwindled into nothing in a nanosecond.

"I'm t-twenty, n-not t-two."

And it had her stammering like she often did when confronting her parents.

You have to say this, she reminded herself forcefully.

Because if you don't...

Bile rose from her stomach as she tried to envision the future her parents had cold-bloodedly arranged for her.

Their arranged marriage might have worked for them, but...

You need to make a stand!

It's now or never!

So speak up!

Summerine she took a deep breath—-

KNOCK, KNOCK.

But it was too late.

"I need you out." Her mother's tone was imperious.

Summerine contemplated never opening the door.

"I'll drag you by the hair if need be."

And since Annie had never been the type to make idle threats, Summerine reluctantly stepped out of the powder room and was immediately subjected to a frosty glare.

"Why must you always be so slow?"

Because you scare me to death.

The older woman's gaze raked over her from head to toe. "You'll do." Her mother swung away with a decisive snap of her Louboutins, and Summerine followed behind her mother even as a voice inside of her head started taunting her.

(Coward!)

Oh shut up, she mentally snapped back even though she knew talking to herself would only make things worse.

(Why do you even bother dreaming when you don't have the guts to make it come true?)

(Just accept it. You'll always be under their thumb.)

(And you'll be doing their bidding until the day you—-)

Summerine shoved her Inner Troll into an imaginary closet and kicked the doors shut. The last thing she needed was a nonexistent entity pointlessly pointing out the obvious. She would be better off spending her last precious hours (minutes?) of freedom devising a way out—-

Or not.

Summerine could feel her lungs working overtime at the sight of her father impatiently waiting for them in the living room.

Her father, who was supposed to be thousands of miles away.

Her father, who was even more terrifying than Annie.

Like, a lot.

"Stop that."

Summerine jumped involuntarily at her father's tone, and his glare had her unclenching her fists in a hurry. George thought the mannerism unladylike and unbecoming, and she had never had the courage to tell him that she never meant to do it deliberately.

It only happened when she was anxious, and unfortunately for all of them, there was nothing more anxiety-inducing for Summerine than being in the presence of her parents.

George surveyed their surroundings with satisfaction. "You've done a very good job, Annie."

Their entire home had recently been featured by a local morning show, and her parents' costly remodeling had garnered praise from its hosts.

I've never seen 'ornate' done so tastefully!

The way they've woven red silk in every room is impressive!

And those Oriental lanterns, oh my!

To the whole of San Antonio, their penthouse apartment was a visual celebration of their Chinese-American heritage.

But to Summerine, it was nothing but her gilded prison.

And the only way to escape it...was that.

Everyone in the living room tensed at the sound of their front door opening and their butler showing their visitor in.

George suddenly gestured to Summerine. "Is it new?" he asked his wife under his breath.

"It's for an upcoming season. It hasn't even been released."

"Won't make a difference if he doesn't know that."

"Oh, he'll know," his wife said with confidence. "Once their engagement photos are released, the press won't be able to stop talking about it. This dress cost us many, many favors."

Summerine was used to her parents discussing her as if she wasn't there, mostly over their disappointment with the way she looked or didn't look. The way she talked or didn't talk. Et cetera, et cetera.

But what she wasn't used to at all was how business-like they sounded. It was as if all she was to them was an asset to sell to the highest bidder, and maybe...

Maybe that was the only reason they even had a child in the first place?

Their butler walked in, and Summerine's heart started pounding.

"Mr. Ryu Harcourt, sir."

She cast her gaze down without knowing why, and her world threatened to spiral as she listened to her parents welcome their visitor like he was a member of royalty.

What do I do?

It was one thing to disobey her parents for the first time in her life. But to do so in front of a stranger?

"And may I present to you our lovely daughter?"

Countless fears invaded her mind upon hearing George introduce her. She could only think of two types of men who would see nothing wrong with buying himself a bride.

A dirty old man with more money than morals.

Or—-

A dirty younger man , also with more money than morals.

"Summerine?"

She tried to lift her gaze, but the thought of spending the rest of her life had Summerine's throat closing up.

It almost...it almost seemed...as if she was about...to... faint.