[Dara POV]

 

I let my eyes stare at the perfection before me. Everything was squeaky clean and no flaws could be seen from the room.

 

“Dara Park, you’re going to be an excellent wife,” I cockily said to myself.

 

I took a piece of paper from my worn-out apron and checked the box that said Clean House. Everything else was marked—do the laundry, shop groceries, cook food. I tucked the paper back into my pocket and let out a tired sigh. I sat on the couch, careful not to stain the upholstery with my clothes’ filth, and let my mind wander.

 

How many times have I mused about living in an apartment this big? Countless.

 

An easy lifestyle. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was a kid.

 

Life has never easy for me. All my childhood years, I’ve seen how my mom strived hard just to send me and younger brother to school and to provide all our needs. She worked three jobs, sometimes more, and never took a day off, no matter how tired or sick she was.

 

She worked like a dog, and died like one.

 

My mother died a week before my high school graduation. She was on her way to her other job when she collapsed. She died of heart failure, and I blamed my father for that.

 

I never really knew my father, and I never had the intention to. He was a no-good bum, a parasite to the society. A gambler who did nothing except waste all the money my mother worked so hard for. He disappeared when I was in junior high and looking for him didn’t even enter our minds. When he left us, there were no tears. We were better off without him.

 

After high school, I took all the jobs my mother had. I gave up the idea of entering college, although I certainly have the grades. I had to support myself and my sibling. He’s the only family I have left.

 

I placed all my dreams in my baby brother, Sanghyun. He would be entering college soon and I had to work ten times harder to afford his fees. It was a miracle when I was given this job—a maid to a luxurious apartment.

 

It paid more than three of my other jobs and all I had to do was to keep the house clean and neat and do anything my employer wants. I never seen him though, just his ever-loyal assistant, Mr. Jung.

 

Pictures? There were a lot of pictures in the flat but just photos of a happy family. I cannot tell if my employer was the dad or the son. If he was a dad, he’s pretty casual, judging from his taste in furniture and clothes. And if he’s the son, then he’s pretty loaded to have an apartment that spacey. Not to mention the assistant provided to him.

 

I glanced at my watch and went back to reality when I saw that it was almost time for my other job. I removed my apron and stuffed it on my backpack. I headed for the door but stopped when I remembered something.

 

“What day is it?” I asked myself as I went back to the kitchen. Remembering days and dates, I was always terrible at those so I peeked on the calendar that was pinned on the kitchen wall. My heart gave a leap when I saw what day it was.

 

It was payday.

 

I excitedly made my way to the counter where my paycheck was usually placed, and there it was. I reached for it, feeling the crisp piece of paper between my fingers, and let out a surprised gasp when I saw the amount written on it. It was a hundred dollars more than my weekly pay and I wondered what I did to receive such amount.

 

“Thank you very much!” I said loudly, not caring if there was no one in the room to hear me.

 

I merrily went out of the room, smiling at the check I was holding. In my mind, I started thinking what to do with the money. Nothing would be left for me, but that extra money would definitely help me. I was so happy I didn’t even hear the elevator ring and open at the floor I was. I only got to my senses when I heard someone snicker and I looked up.

 

A guy about my age was standing before me. And I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked.

 

Wait? Beautiful?

 

Yes, he had delicate features a girl would be jealous to have. His slightly long copper hair was neatly coiffed, his bangs delicately swept to one side. He was wearing a shirt with ripped off sleeves and it showed how muscular his arms were. His skin was healthy white, not the pale white most guys have. But what caught my attention the most was his eyes.

 

Where have I seen those eyes before?

 

I felt like I’ve seen him already, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. He was beaming at me and I realized I must be looking so stupid gazing over a piece of paper, and yes, his face too. I bowed my head to apologize and I stepped in the elevator shyly.

 

“First floor?” he asked. I nod and we rode the elevator in silence.

 

Riding the elevator with him felt like forever. I was already feeling a little fidgety when he suddenly spoke.

 

“You live here?”

 

Pfft. How I wish.

 

I shook my head and said, “No, I was here for a job.”

 

“Are they paying you well?” he inquired casually. It seemed to me that the guy didn’t really care about formalities. He was already talking to me like we’ve known each other for years.

 

I nodded and he grinned. “I don’t even know why I’m asking that,” he stated. I looked at him in surprise and he pointed the check I was holding with his mouth.

 

“Well, they’re pretty generous,” I said with a smile. I neatly folded the check into two and slipped it into my jeans’ pocket. The elevator bell dinged and we finally arrived at the first floor with no interruptions. I stepped out and expected the guy to do the same, but he stayed. I realized he must have a car; the parking lot was in the basement. I turned to leave but he called.

 

“Miss, take this.” He tossed me a handkerchief. “I can’t let you leave the building looking like that,” he said as the elevator door closed.

 

Looking like what? I wondered and ran to the mirror on the lobby to see what I looked like. I grimaced as I saw my reflection. The tip of my nose was black. I must have gotten it when I cleaned the fireplace.

 

No wonder he was grinning.

 

“Aish, he could have told me that the moment I stepped in,” I mumbled to myself. “Jerk,” I said as I wiped the dirt on my nose, but didn’t really mean it. I actually thought he was nice enough to give me a handkerchief.

 

As I wiped my face free of dust, my nose caught a familiar scent. Cherry, my brain told me. It was from the cloth. But hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember where I smelled it. Just like his eyes, it felt nostalgic but my life was a busy one and I shook it off.

 

I have no time to think of familiar eyes or scents.

 

---

 

 

“I’m here,” I announced as I entered the kitchen. It was my fourth job for the day and strangely, I already felt exhausted. Normally, fatigue would only kick in after my fifth or sixth job.

 

“You’re late,” Mrs. Im, the owner, jokingly said. I definitely wasn’t late. In fact, I still have fifteen minutes-spare before my shift but she was so accustomed to me coming in half an hour before. I grinned with her as I gingerly put my apron on. I was about to come out with an order when she stopped me and asked, “Have you had your lunch yet?”

 

I shook my head and Mrs. Im started pulling me back in the kitchen. “Eat first,” she scolded in a motherly tone. “I don’t want you fainting again.”

 

That’s when the memory of the familiar scent of cherry resurfaced. A week ago, I fainted on my way home, but when I woke up, I was already at my room, with the sweet scent of cherry faintly lingering in the air.

 

Could that guy be my savior? I thought and laughed after I did. That was ridiculous. He’s not the only cherry-smelling person alive, isn’t he?

 

Mrs. Im handed me a bowl of bean paste soup and I took it a little hesitant. “It’s free, don’t worry,” she said. “You’re just like your mom. So hardworking, so selfless. You have to love yourself too.” She ruffled my hair and went out of the kitchen when we heard the chimes ring.

 

Mrs. Im was my mother’s longest employer. When my mother died, I took over her job—waiting on tables, cooking meals. She was like a mother to me and Sanghyun, always caring for us, even though we’re not blood-related. So even though the pay wasn’t that great, I still worked for her. She needed help, especially since she couldn’t manage the small restaurant all by herself.

 

When she came back, she looked a little worried and I wondered what made her look like that. “Mrs. Im, who’s outside?” I asked, although I already have a faint guess.

 

She turned to me and her frail body shook a bit as she said, “The White Tigers are back.”

 

White Tigers.

 

One of the largest and powerful gangs in Seoul. Scumbags and filthier than mud, these gangsters terrorize citizens so they could have their way and their way was as dirty as they are. Bribery, fraud, ion, intimidation—those four are their trades.

 

I hate them more than I hate my father. They profit out of decent people’s hard work, and for a person like me who values hard work more than everything, they’re parasites. They think they’re gods but all they are scroungers.

 

I sneaked a peek and on the farthest table on the corner, I saw three of the parasites Mrs. Im was so afraid about. The two facing our direction were regulars; every week they’ll eat at the restaurant and ask for protection fee. The other one…I couldn’t tell much. His back was facing me and I can’t see his face.

 

Probably as ugly as the other two, I thought.

 

I tried to take the tray away from Mrs. Im but she shooed me away. She knew I have a temper, especially with them. Just last week, I smashed the tray on the face of one of the bastards. Maybe she’s afraid I would finally receive my punishment. “Sit there and don’t go out,” she sternly told me.

 

A few seconds later, I heard clanging from outside. My pulse raced as I went out and saw Mrs. Im lying on the floor, with a portion of bean paste soup spilled on the ground. I ran to her side, helped her up and assisted her to the kitchen. “What happened?” I asked her when we were out of earshot.

 

“They don’t like the food,” Mrs. Im replied.

 

“Did they hit you?”

 

She nodded and I stood up, feeling the heat on my cheeks. She grabbed my arm and said, “Dara-yah, it’s better if we lie low. The White Tigers…they’re vicious.”

 

I faked a smile at her and said, “I would just clean up.” I went out, feeling her worried stare on my back and walked to the table where the bastards that hit her were seated.

 

“Is there a problem with the food?” I asked. I saw the two ugly crustaceans leer at me and I had to fight the urge to slam them with the tray I was holding.

 

Remember, Dara-yah. The restaurant’s running out of trays now. Stop. Don’t.

 

“It’s ty.”

 

I heard a low, masculine voice and I turned to its source, disdain apparent on my face. “What did you say?”

 

The third guy stood up and walked towards me. I stepped back as I saw him advancing towards me and his hand s on my lower back to keep me from where we stand. My breath came in short when he inched his face closer to me and he repeated, “I said the food is ty. Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear me?”

 

At that time, instead of anger rising in me, I actually felt fear. His eyes were piercing and I lowered my eyes, because just his stare made me shake in panic. And while I couldn’t breathe properly, his breathing was hard and ragged and I could tell he was really angry. Then my nose caught another familiar scent.

 

Cherry.