"Good, So Eun, you're here," my mother said expressionlessly as I walked into her office. The sun shone in from the glass wall and I tried not to grimace. My mother would disapprove.

"Yes, good morning, umma," I responded warily. I'd been called to her office, and that was never a good thing.

She promptly handed me a manila envelope. It was heavy in my hand, and I wondered what it was. "Take a look at these. He's your fiance, Kim Jongin. Son of KAC, you know, Kim Appliances. He's only a year older than you, and at least he's good-looking." My mother looked up at me over her glasses. "You're luckier than your sister, you know. Your wedding is set for May 22."

I looked at her quizzically. I was engaged? To Kim Jongin? How had they managed to arrange this? When? But I asked, with a poker face, "May 22? That's in...what, a month?"

"Yes, about a month. His mother and I have also arranged a date for you two to meet each other." She checked her calendar. "Tomorrow, actually. At 2pm. Following that, on Saturday, we will have to start picking out a wedding dress for you. I'll take care of the wedding arrangements; you don't need to worry. All you need to do is show up."

"Alright then. I won't forget. Have a good day, umma."

"You too, honey." For a moment, her face softened as she relaxed. Then it was gone, replaced by her business face.

I turned around and left, going to my own office. Upon entering, I closed and locked the door, then threw the envelope onto my table, sinking into my black-and-white couch. "All you need to do is show up," she'd said. That sounded about right. I had no control of my own life; everything was arranged, planned, thought out in order to benefit from every move. I was a pawn in a complicated game of chess called life.

But it wasn't as though I could do anything about it. Resigned, I opened the envelope to find a handful of pictures of my soon-to-be husband. Dark haired, slightly dark skinned, definitely good looking. I had to agree with my mother; at least I was luckier than my older sister, Eunji. She'd also been married off without her intake, but her husband, despite being heir to a large company, wasn't the greatest looking guy out there.

I sighed. I would meet him tomorrow. I checked my watch. Right now it was about 7:00 p.m., which meant I had about two hours to myself before my presence was required at home for dinner. I shrugged on a light tan jacket, grabbed my phone and purse, and headed out of the Jung Electronics building. I pressed 1 on speed dial.

"Hello?" he answered in about two rings.

"Hey, are you free right now?"

"Sure, princess. I'm at home, did you want to come over? I even have pizza!"

I smiled. "That sounds great. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." Then I hung up and got into my car, driving without thinking.

Park Chanyeol. Even though he was a few years older than me, we'd been friends since little. He was the "neighborhood oppa," from before I moved to a different neighborhood. Before my father had suddenly struck it big in creating the company. At one point, we'd been more than friends. But even though it didn't last, we didn't let it get between us. He was still the only one who completely understood me, had seen me in some of my worst moments. He was my irreplacable best friend.

I arrived at his house, definitely big...but modest when compared to mine, I was ashamed to admit. I parked my car and rang the doorbell. Chanyeol opened the door, hair messy, grin on his face. "Come on in," he said, opening the door wider to let me through.

I greeted his parents and sister, then followed him to his room, where I grabbed a slice of pizza from the cardboard box on his table and settled comfortably on his bed. "Hey," he complained, "that's my bed."

"Well of course it's your bed," I replied, focusing on the pizza. "What else would it be?"

He stood in front of me, messing up my hair. I glared at him. He smiled in response, and said, "That wasn't the point. Get off my bed, you indecent little thing."

I raised my eyebrows, but moved to the couch on the opposite side of the room, elbowing him along the way. He grunted in response, but flopped onto his bed as though nothing had happened. "So," he drawled, "what's up?"

"Nothing much. I'm getting married in a month, why?"

Chanyeol sat up, face suddenly serious. "Wait, really? When did you find out about this? Do you know him? Are you okay with it?"

I sighed, dropping my cheerful facade. "Yeah, I just found out about half an hour ago. It's Kim Jongin, son of the CEO of KAC. And you should know better than anyone that my being okay with it has nothing to do with this."

Chanyeol frowned, coming over to sit next to me. "Kim Jongin, huh? I think I've seen him once or twice, when I went with my dad to go to KAC for some sort of business. He seems...I don't know, cold."

I snorted, handing the crust of my pizza to Chanyeol, who started devouring it without a word. "Figures. Just my luck."

"Well, I guess if anything, at least he's good-looking? He's tall..." Chanyeol tried but failed miserably to console me.

"He's rich," I corrected, "which is all that matters to my parents. KAC isn't caught up in any scandals, and they're one of the biggest companies around. If we merge, we both profit. That's all that matters, in the cold world of business."

Chanyeol gave me a one-armed hug. "Well then, I guess the only thing I can do is be here for you."

I smiled at him. "Yeah, that's more than what my parents do. Thanks, oppa."

He snorted, then said, "You should probably get home before your parents kill you, though. It's 8:30."

"Crap! Okay, thanks for everything, I'll probably see you tomorrow!" I rushed out of the Park household, hurrying to get home. Dinner was something that none of us in the Jung family wanted to miss.

Panting, I ran to the door and opened it, checking my watch the moment I walked in. "You're two minutes late, honey," my father called from the dining room. "But that's okay, since you're the star today anyway. Come sit, and then you can do what you want."

I settled into my seat, thanking the maids who served me a heaping plate of food. "So," my father began. "I'm sure you heard from your mother about the arrangements we've made."

"Yeah, Kim Jongin."

"Precisely. You should consider yourself lucky; I hear he's nice." He took a bite of his food, then continued. "You must remember though, to represent our family well, when you are married. Retain your dignity, despite becoming part of the Kim household. Never forget that you are still the Jung So Eun of our Jung Electronics, and will always be welcome home if anything happens."

Well, that sounded wonderful. "Yes, I won't forget, appa."

"Good, now, let's eat."

My mother and father talked about some business things over dinner, but I ate silently, preoccupied.

Tomorrow, I would meet my future husband.

A month from now, I will be married.

And business marriages are never happy ones; I should know. My sisters sometimes came home, and even though they tried to hide it from me, I've seen proof. Eunji sometimes had a limp, and Hana always wore long-sleeve shirts.

What would become of me?