[2] Mr. Tycoon's Woman || PJ&RP ✔️

Chapter 290: Courting Death

Rosè Yang's eyes flew open in shock. Such a strange dream it was... Jiminie? Who was that? She tried to rack her brain for any memories of him, but could not find any. The more she tried to remember, the more her head would hurt.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Rosè Yang almost screamed bloody murder at the sudden whisper beside her ear. She turned around and instantly relaxed when she saw it was Park Jimin. "You scared me." She stammered, placing a hand on her racing heart.

"Did I now?" He patiently responded, his stormy eyes clashing against hers. So many emotions ran through the pools of ink, all of them, dedicated to her. "So, what did you dream about?"

"I-I don't...ow..." She placed a hand on the side of her head, wincing in pain when a pounding headache slammed her. "I-I can't..." The more she tried to recount what happened, the more her head hurt. She felt like she stumbled across a stubborn wall in her brain.

Park Jimin's forehead creased in worry. He wanted to know if she remembered something, but her health was more important than the truth. "It's fine, let's not think so much of it." He helped her lay back onto the bed.

"Let's go back to sleep." He slithered his arms around her again, lulling her to sleep, in hopes that she would find herself in the same dreamland, and maybe just maybe, she could see it as more than just a dream.

- - - - -

Over the next few days, Rose Yang's schedule was packed with moving and decorating their new house. She quite liked the new place, since it was not as gloomy as Park Jimin's dreadfully empty mansion where the color scheme only consisted of monotone colors. It was modern and extremely high-tech, but very lifeless.

She hoped to liven up the current house, which was less modern, but more high-tech. Replacing the minimalistic design of his previous house, this one was a lot homier. She ensured the color scheme here was bright and inviting, especially with the flower vases she set up and small trinkets here and there. It was also a suitable place to raise children, especially with the extremely high security she always passed by. With the number of guards, electric fences, sniper towers, and so forth, you'd think this was where the leader of the country lived.

Running back and forth from RY was a hassle, but she managed to juggle it better than expected. Her eyes scanned the living room, a satisfied smile blooming on her face.

There was a comfortable and large leather couch in the center of the room with a colorful antique rug beneath it. She walked to the enormous French door and set the heavy white curtains into place. It was a nice contrast to this slightly modern and humble living room. Sunlight flushed into the room from the windows that overlooked the city. Upon hearing a car pull up, she opened the door with bamboo-tree glass, paired with a light-colored oak framing.

She shook her head upon realizing this door lead to the small garden beside the living room instead of a balcony.

Thinking Park Jimin came home early, she rushed to the front entrance only to see a different man enter. She blinked upon seeing his appearance, shining like a white knight. He had roguish-features and prominent eyebrows with a slight scar on the right one. His face was very appealing and paired with the loose smile on his face, he seemed friendlier than most of the people surrounding Park Jimin.

"Where's the Boss?" His voice was airy and smooth. There was a slight accent to it, perhaps a dialect from his hometown. He was speaking to the butler who took his coat and folded it over his arm.

"The Young Master is currently on his way home. In the meantime, the Madam is home."

"The Madam?" He repeated, highly intrigued. Was it Rose Yang? Or was it Ice Queen, Nam Heejin? He shuddered when her stern and forever displeased expression flashed through his mind. She was a very beautiful and refined woman who didn't look her age, but no matter how many times he had encountered her, he was still scared of her. She reminded him of his mother, who rarely smiled at him.