Cinderella & His Mafia Leaders/HyunChanJeong (Skz Fan Fiction)✅

Prologue/Chapter One

What if Cinderella was real? What if she wasn't a she but a he? And what if the story took so many twists and turns that 'Cinderella' himself couldn't keep up? If that's the story you're looking for then welcome to my life. Hi, my name is Yang Jeongjin and I'm your modern day male Cinderella.

Before I was three, my mother had passed away from cancer and by the time I turned thirteen, my father had remarried. Everything was going well, I really liked the woman my father had married and having an older step brother and two younger step sisters was something an only child, like me, had only hoped for. My step mother wasn't like the evil step mother's most kids my age had whined about or so I thought, because next thing I knew tragedy struck. My father had been murdered out on the streets walking from his work building to his car, I was barely fifteen at the time.

My step mother showed her real colors hours after the funeral, she was like a completely different woman. She had ushered me out of my bedroom and up the stairs to the attic, a bare room with hardly any insolation. To make matters worse there had been no bathroom and it had taken me a year to convince her to build me one until I gave up. It was my step brother, Seungmin, who had snuck up to the attic to help build me one, though because of the space the bathroom wasn't big or beautiful by any means. In fact it was hardly functional but I had to give my step brother credit for at least trying behind his mother's back.

When my father's will was read, I reserved almost all of his fortune. He was only in the process of redoing it when he had been killed. And so I inherited half his fortune which had been a quarter of a million dollars at the time, and my step mother and her children had split the other half. It was about the same time I found out my step mother had married my father for his mother, she was fuming that I had gotten more than her. Though let's be honest she probably took her children's share of the inheritance. But needless to say, guess who started acting all nice, when she found out I'd have full access to my funds once I turned eighteen? Well that was until she realized she had already shown her real colors to me and that I wasn't willing to share my inheritance money with her.

And so here I was now, weeks away from my eighteenth birthday. I was standing in my tiny bathroom, my head cocked to the side due to the slanted ceiling. I had on a black hand me down tux that Seungmin had convinced his mother to let me wear. She 'needed' to uphold her family image somehow when attending the funeral of the largest crime lord's eldest son. I guess from what I was told, this crime lord and my father had been really good friends growing up. In fact I had been friends with the son we were going to the funeral for, but if I'm being honest I can't even remember.

Now are you ready for the first twist of my story?

Looking myself over, in the mirror, I took notice of my features. My black hair was styled in that fluffy 'just got out of bed' kinda look. I ran my fingers through it a few times to tame some of the wilder fluff but overall it was a look I liked to have my hair in. Now looking at my face, it was there that I stared at my soul mark. Something given to me by my soulmate.

Yeah, plot twist number one for my story.

Soulmates exist.

Soul marks were essentially the first place and first time your soulmate ever touches you. If it's like a black out inked tattoo then you have yet to meet or touch your soulmate. But if the mark looked like faded black face paint, or sometimes even a discolored birthmark, well then that means you've already touched and met your soulmate. Mine's the latter, but I have no memory or recollection of ever meeting my soulmate.

I only have a story of what my father told me about meeting my soulmate. Before my soulmate had to move away, for reasons my father wouldn't tell me, I had latched onto my soulmate fairly quickly. Our parents were friends and though my soulmate was three or so years older than me, our meeting was cute. Or so that's what my father had told me. I was barely two and my mother had yet to be diagnosed with cancer. The friends of my parents came to visit with their son, who had immediately gone up to me and caressed my face. He had asked my mother, who was holding me, why I was so cute. And before my mother could answer, she and the other adults were watching as my soulmate mark fades right before their eyes. Even the mark on his fingers had faded.