Dara

 

I picked the most fabricated lingerie set to wear underneath the white shirt and skinny jeans I had chose.

 

 

I stepped into the shower, turning the knob and the streams of cold water splashed on to my skin. I yelped and jumped to the far corner of the shower stall in order to avoid the wrath of the freezing water, occasionally putting my hands back in to test out the temperature. 

 

 

Once the water became bearable, I began to wash, scrubbing my face first. Looking at my hands afterward, it was stained black from my mascara. Realizing that I slept with my makeup on, I cringed at the thought of what my skin was going to do to me. My poor pores.

 

 

I was done showering and dressing and felt adventurous. I walked into the empty room, putting on my heels and grabbing my purse. Since I was going to be staying here for a while, I should get a look around.

 

 

I opened my door, quietly as possible, and crouched down, poking my head out. I looked left to see that the huge, long hall was empty. As I turned my head right to check the side of the corridor, I heard someone asked me

 

 

"Not trying to escape again are you?" There was Mr. Mafia Man, leaning against the wall, the right of the door.

 

 

"No, I just wanted to check this place out," I said, straightening my shirt as I got up from my crouching position.

 

 

He only raised his eyebrow and walked off down the hall. He motioned me to follow him. Looking at him from his back, I realized that he had changed from his casual comfy to sportswear.

 

 

"This is the third floor." He said as henmade it to the stairs case.

 

 

"Up is the fourth, which is the highest floor. There's nothing to see there, just rooms." He walked down the stairs, and I was right behind.

 

 

"Second floor. There's a library, arcade, movie room, meeting room, and other stuff. This floor is where your office will be." He told me before continuing downwards.

 

 

I took the time to lean over the stairs and look up. A chandelier that stood as the main light fixture for the stairs. It hung from a see-through ceiling.I tried not to look amazed, but this is the most impressive house I've ever been in. We reached the ground level. By this point, I realized that the house was pretty much empty.

 

 

"Are we the only ones in the house?"

 

 

"As of right now? Yes. The rest of the members are dealing with something in town. I'll introduce them to you at dinner." Mr. Mafia Man answered, never stopping his strides. He led me down another hall. This house seems to never stop.

 

 

"This is the gym." He said, opening the doors to the matted room filled with exercise equipment. Compared to all the rooms I've seen so far, this was the largest. Treadmills, weights, and punching bags lined up in rows. One wall was completely mirrored.

 

 

He led me down to the far corner where a boxing ring stood. Mr. Mafia Man slipped in between the ropes and into the ring.

 

 

"Come on in." He said. He pulled the ropes apart to form a small opening and I slipped inside.

 

 

"You might want to take off your heels." Complexed, I kicked off my shoes and  gently tossed them outside. I walked to one of the post and hung my bag.

 

 

"Before officially work for us, you need to go through some training." He said casually placing his hand on his hips.

 

 

"I already went through four years of it," I told him, referring to medical school.

 

 

"Look, members of the mafia considerneach another like family." He explained,

 

 

"We don't do the cliche, the 'no one gets left behind'. We really don't have to since everyone could fight for themselves. You'll need to learn some self-defense. Working in the mafia, even as a doctor, you're surrounded by enemies and danger. So, let's see how you throw a punch."

 

 

"Wait, are we fighting each other?" I asked. I fearfully took a step back. I eyed his arms. They were tatted and muscular. I would hate to be punched by him.

 

 

"No." He chuckled, "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see what I'm going to be working with."

 

 

"Right now?" I asked, curling my hands into fists. "At you?"

 

 

"Whenever you are ready." He nodded. 

 

 

He placed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Mr. Mafia Man's posture was too relaxed for knowing that he was going to get punched at.

 

 

I lifted my fists to my chin, copying the boxing stance I've seen in action movies. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Seeing how weird I looked, I straightened up.

 

 

"I rather not," I said, sheepishly.

 

 

"Come on," He said, "Don't be embarrassed. We have to start
somewhere."

 

 

Reluctantly, I went back into my action movie stance. I swung my right hand. Before it could reach his face, his hand caught my clenched fingers. I let out a small gasp, shocked by his fast reflex. Suddenly, the desire to land a good one on him ignited.

 

 

With my free hand, the left, I aimed at his face once again. Just like with my right, hencaught it. I pulled away from him and let space fill in between us. He kept his word, showing no signs of attacking.

 

 

I looked at his stomach and pondered on my next move. I glanced at his eyes. They were intense as always. He was watching my every move. I noticed how his hands lowered. He had caught me staring at his  abdomen, probably thinking that it was my next target.

 

 

I stepped forward. Mr. Mafia Man stayed where he was at, waiting. I launched with my left to his face and, at the same time, I aimed an uppercut punch to his solar plexus. He swiftly backed away out of reach. I had put so much force into the move that it sent me face-forward to the floor.

 

 

I stayed on the floor because I was exhausted and embarrassed. I rolled onto my back and covered my face with my hands.

 

 

"Are you okay?" He asked. Based on the sound of his voice, he was looming over me.

 

 

"Me? I'm great." I said, uncovering my face. "My pride? Not so much."

 

 

I sat up on the floor. To my surprise, Mr. Mafia Man sat down in front of me.

 

 

"What are we doing now?" I asked, curious.

 

 

"We're done with the physical part. We have time for some questions."

 

 

"Questions?" I asked, trying to get a better idea of what he was talking about, "Like an interview?"

 

 

"Yeah, to get to know you better." He said, sending me a full smile. If I thought he looked good with his intimidating aura, he was better looking with his smile. I felt my heart race in my chest. 

 

 

"So, Dr. Park," he started, but I cut him off.

 

 

"Sandara."

 

 

"Huh?"

 

 

"My name is Sandara," I said.

 

 

"Sandara." He repeated.

 

 

I felt my face heat up. I was hardcore blushing at the sound of my name coming out of his lips.

 

 

"Never mind. I take it back. Please continue calling me 'Dr. Park'."

 

 

"Why, Sandara Park?"

 

 

"To keep things professional." I defended. For if he keeps calling me by my first name, the effect it has will drive me crazy.

 

 

"Then, I'll keep calling you 'Dara'." He said, sending me a devilish smirk that sent the butterflies in my stomach flying.

 

 

"I'd hate to keep things professional between us."

 

 

Jiyong

 

 

Those words just flew out of my mouth. My thoughts, exposed. Before she could process, I quickly said something else.

 

 

"I forbid you to call me 'Mr. Kwon', you have to call me 'Jiyong' or else you won't get an answer."

 

 

"Kwon Jiyong... Kwon ... Kwon."

 

 

She repeated my name as if she was trying to recall something. As she did, I eyed her plump lips that formed my name. I watched her come to realization. Dara gasped and covered .

 

 

"G Dragon." She said my mafia's name in her american accent. 

 

 

Dara

 

"You heard of me?" He raised his eyebrow. 

 

 

"No, I think I'm mistaking you for Kwon Hyun Shik," I said, shaking mynhead. There was no way I got myself involved with the biggest, baddest mafia in America, in short worldwide. They were always on the news every night, either with a bank robbery or murder.

 

 

"That would be my father." He said, scratching his head.

 

 

My jaw dropped. I was sitting down in front of the son of a mafia lord.

 

 

"The documentary said nothing about Hyun sik having a son," I told him.

 

 

YG Family was a well-known mafia. There were documentaries made of them by polices and detectives. For decades, the cops have been trying to capture any man that had ties with YG Family. Not one man was ever caught alive. Just as the police had them in the palm of their hands, they willingly killed themselves.

 

 

Therefore no information of them ever reached the law, keeping the mafia a mystery.

 

 

"We only let out what we want them to know," Jiyong said seriously.

 

 

"If they knew about me, I'd be the second most wanted man alive, next to my father."

 

 

"What exactly do you do?" I asked. I didn't know what made me ask that question. Especially since I was afraid to hear the answer.

 

 

"None of your business." He said, harshly.

 

 

I was taken aback by his sudden moodnshift. The guy, five minutes ago, that was openly flirting with me had disappeared.

 

 

Jiyong

 

 

I didn't mean to snap. She doesn't have to know what goes on in the black market. She'll only judge me and the people who are in this risky business. Besides, she seems to already have a good idea of what goes on based on the fearful look she had on her face when saying the mafia's name.

 

 

I was debating on whether to apologize or brush it off when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Lorenzo. I cleared my throat and answered.

 

 

"Yes?"

 

 

"Where are you?" He asked.

 

 

"The gym," I answered. "Why? What's wrong?"

 

 

"We have to meet Psy, remember?" 

 

 

"Isn't it at six?" I asked. I checked my watch and saw that we had three hours until that time.

 

 

"He changed it to five."

 

 

"There is no one at the house to watch the doctor." I frowned.

 

 

"What happened to your grandmother and sister?"

 

 

"My grandma left to drive Dami to the airport. She's dropping off Grands."

 

 

"Just bring the girl with you."

 

 

Leaving no room for disagreement, Lorenzo ended the call.
I got up from the floor. I was about to offer my hand like a gentleman but Dara was already on her two feet. I stared at her, contemplating my decision.

 

 

"What?" She asked as she shrunk under my gaze.

 

 

She squirmed and nervously played with her fingers. Realizing that my stare was making her uncomfortable, I shifted my view onto the floor.

 

 

Dara

 

"Come on, we have to be somewhere," Jiyong said.

 

 

I put on my shoes and retrieved my bag. I didn't want to go anywhere with him. I might have given my trust without cation. Jiyong, without no doubt, was a criminal.

 

 

Who knows what he can do? If he was anything like his father then he's a cold blood murder. Jiyong can be playing
games with me, toying with me until he decided to kill me.

 

 

Jiyong walked in front of me. He led us out of the gym, down some halls, and into the living room where the front door was.

 

 

"I need to get something." He said as he made his way to the stairs.

 

 

Left alone, I examined the room. On the wall was a big picture. It was obvious that the people in the photo was some of the members of the mafia. The portrait was a bit eerie. They all wore a serious face and dark colors. It must have been taken a few years ago since Jiyong looked younger.

 

 

By him were his father and Taeyang. They were in the middle, surrounded by the other people. Next to them was the guy I remembered that stood in front of me in the donut shop line and a girl. She had blond hair and bright brown eyes. Confidence flowed from her.

 

I scanned everyone else in the photo. There were at least 100 of them, both genders. All were good looking, strong, and intimidating.

 

 

The sound of footsteps alerted me that Jiyong was coming downstairs. He was in a new set of clothes. Under his leather jacket was a white T-shirt, hugging his fit body. His black jeans were messily covering the high top part of hus compact boots.

 

 

"Okay, let's go." He said after slipping a gun into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

 

 

Was he going to bring me to a ditch and murder me there?

 

 

Jiyong opened the door and held it for me. Feeling uneasy, I forced my legs to walk outside. Should I make a run for it?
My eyes roamed the outside. Going on for miles, all I could see was a big nice lawn surrounding the gigantic house in the middle of nowhere in upstate Seoul.

 

 

I glance at Jiyong. He had his back faced towards me as he locked the door. If I bolted, he'd waste no time in whipping his gun out and shooting me. I looked down at my shoes and frowned. I shouldn't run in heels. I can end up hurting my ankle.

 

 

"The garage is this way," Jiyong said as he began to lead me.

 

 

It was a separate building. Using the remote, he opened only one of the five big garage doors. There were rows of rows of cars. My eyes scanned the line up of Ferraris, Lamborghinis, BMWs, Teslas, and other luxurious cars.

 

 

A black Mercedes G Wagon in the far end caught my attention, shining in its glory.

 

 

"Dara." Matteo called for me.

 

 

I was memorized by my ideal car that I didn't notice that he had gone inside and picked one of the many keys that hung on the wall. He pressed down on the key and the Mercedes Jeep beeped.

 

 

"Are we taking this car?" I asked in awe.

 

 

Jiyong

 

Right as the garage door opened, I saw Dara eyeing Marcella's Mercedes Jeep. Still feeling guilty for snapping at her, I decided to do something nice. 

 

 

"Are we taking this car?" Dara asked, breaking into a smile. I felt the tension and anxiety roll off of her.

 

 

I nodded and we walked over to the car. I was the first to get there and hopped into the passenger seat. In front of the car, Dara stood there confused. I smirked, looking at her
through the windshield. I pointed at her and then to the driver's seat. She gasped and quickly walked to the driver's side, opening the door and poking her head inside. 

 

 

"Wait, you're telling me that I can drive this?" I can hear the excitement in her voice.

 

 

"If you'd like," I said, casually.

 

 

"I don't know where we are going."

 

 

"Don't worry," I said, pointing at a small screen on the dashboard.

 

 

"There is a GPS."

 

 

I dangled the keys in front of her and she snatched it from my hands. She jumped inside and started the engine. Dara was smiling as she pulled out of the garage, ecstatic. The sight of her so happy made me grin without thinking.

 

 

Realizing that I was smiling, I cleared my throat and looked out the window. 

 

--

Chapter 6 done! Am I too fast in updating? Yesterday I double update hehe. Maybe today too! Since it's quarantine I have nothing to do. ✌

Don't forget to subscribe and comment down below! ❤

#Thingswillgetinterestingsoon