Marry My Bestfriend

Chapter 1: Fate, you piece of sh*t

Yin's POV

I'm Yin Anan Wong, the sole heir to the Wong family conglomerate.

You'd think being born into wealth and privilege would mean a life of leisure and luxury, but let me tell you, it's anything but that.

My parents, bless their souls, are about as useful as a pair of socks in a sandstorm.

Lazy doesn't even begin to describe them.

They're more interested in sipping cocktails by the pool than actually running the family business.

So, it falls on my shoulders to keep things afloat.

From boardroom meetings to late-night strategy sessions, I'm constantly juggling a million things at once.

But hey, someone's gotta do it, right?

Today...

Another day, another opportunity to prove to the world that I, Yin Anan Wong, am more than just a pretty face with a trust fund.

But before I could even make it to my sleek, black car, a voice pierces  through the morning air like a rusty nail on a chalkboard.

"Yin! Wait up!"

I turn, my patience already stretched thinner than a hipster's mustache, to find a tiny boy sprinting towards me.

His disheveled appearance and wild eyes making him look like a lost puppy who had stumbled into a frat party.

"Sorry I'm late," he gasps, skidding to a halt beside me, panting like he'd just run a marathon.

"Got caught up in a heated debate with a poodle over the merits of dry shampoo."

I arch an eyebrow, resisting the urge to roll my eyes so far back into my head that they ended up in another dimension.

"Of course you did."

With a flourish that would make a magician jealous, the little thing yanks open the door of my car, nearly sending it careening off its hinges in the process.

"After you, sir!" he exclaims, bowing dramatically as if he were auditioning for a role in a Shakespearean play.

I sigh as I slid into the back seat, trying to ignore the lingering scent of last night's tequila emanating from his pores.

As he scrambles into the driver's seat, his movements resembling a newborn giraffe attempting to stand for the first time, I can't help but wonder.

How on earth did he managed to pass his driver's test?

Then again, stranger things happen everywhere right.

"Good morning, Mr. Wong!" He chirps, flashing me a grin that could blind a vampire at fifty paces.

"Morning, War,"

War showed up at the Wong mansion five months ago, claiming to be homeless – despite carrying a designer bag which he later confessed to have stolen .

He spun some sob story about needing a job, and my father, always eager to avoid responsibility, took him in without a second thought.

At first, War was assigned various odd jobs around the mansion .

Cooking, gardening, you name it.