Your blood ran cold and your voice was shaky as the woman slowly corners you, her eyes; black as night, and her face held a foreboding expression as your back was pressed against the cold wall. "Yo-you monster!" You shrieked, but the woman doesn't s...
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1993 Surrey, England
A five-year-old girl held the hand of her mother as they exit the vehicle.
It appears to be that she's standing on the private property of some sort due to the number of what looked to be men in suits surrounding the entire area. The private property is a mansion, vast, the structure; Victorian and sophisticated with a huge lion fountain in front of the majestic house. Her mother held her hand reassuringly as three guards; one in front and the two on the opposite sides as they guide them inside the manor.
And just like the magnificent exterior of the mansion, the interior is impressive.
'Way better than our house back home,' The little girl thought as the leading guard made a beeline from the elaborate halls to the upstairs room; the balcony. There sat a man in his mid-thirties, slick black hair, a three-piece white suit, perfectly tailored from head to toe. He ate a meal that would be considered a feast for six at least people, or maybe, the girl was just comparing their food to his.
When they were a few feet away from him, he stopped chewing and placed his utensils down as he looks at them.
'Pretty,' The girl thought as soon as they lock eyes and the man sets his gaze on her mother. She smiled at him, and he returns it with a cold one as he stands up gracefully from his seat, the feet of the chair scraping against the marble floor, and approach them with confident, regal strides. She can see her mother holding her breath as he takes her hand and pressed his lips against the back of her palm.
"Welcome," He said with an accent that the girl could not place. "To Vittoria family, Bae Seohyun."
Her cheeks turned red, "Thank you for having us, Galateo."
'Galateo?' The girl pondered, 'Who's this man?'
Galateo then moves his line of sight to her, and his eyes matched hers as he cups her cheek. His hands felt cold against her pale skin as he makes her look up at him.
"Hello little one," His voice rich and husked, her eyes widening as he continues:
"I'm your father"
____________________
1994
Her father was in his study, or so the maid told her.
In her small hands were a cup of camomile tea, the one her father always drinks whenever he's at home doing business. Before she and her mother moved to England, all she heard and understand was: "She's my only heiress, move here and I'll give her the life you want for her."
