Ruth Lee (TAMING THE MAFIA PRINCESS )

"Ma'am, we're here." The driver's words yanked Ruth Lee from her scattered thoughts. Seoul's skyline had faded behind her, replaced by winding streets and a looming villa ahead. The car slowed to a halt in front of the estate, the name "Aurora" etched into a brass plaque on the ornate gates. She had expected this moment to bring relief, to feel a sense of accomplishment, but instead, a nervous pit churned in her stomach.

"New around here?" the driver asked, his voice warm but tinted with curiosity. "These rich folks can be a handful. Hope you're ready for it."

Ruth forced a polite smile, brushing her disheveled hair back into its loose bun. "I'm just here to meet someone," she said, her Korean clipped from nerves.

The driver gave her a knowing look, his brows raising ever so slightly. "Well, good luck. You'll need it."

She muttered her thanks, handed him a tip, and stepped out into the crisp evening air. The villa loomed before her, gleaming in all its fantasy-a strictly modern, sleek line softened here and there by traditional overtones, surrounded by meticulously pruned gardens. Ruth took a shaky breath, clutching the strap of her oversized bag like a lifeline.

Her reflection caught in the tinted window of the car pulling away mismatched shoes, an oversized shirt she'd slept in, and dark circles that screamed exhaustion. She looked nothing like the polished young woman she had been a week ago, before life threw her into chaos.

"Evening, ma'am," a gravelly voice cut through her spiral of self-pity. She turned to find a security guard watching her from the gatehouse. His uniform was crisp; his manner professional. His eyes told a different story: suspicion. "How can I help you?"

Ruth felt suddenly cautious. So unprepared. She hadn't thought this through. No phone, no plan-no notion even who she was meeting-only an incoherent address scribbled on a card.

"Um, is this Aurora Villa?" she asked, digging for the card in her purse as if for some magical clue.

The expression on the guard's face didn't change. "It is. Do you have an appointment?"

"Y-yes," she stammered, though she wasn't sure if that was true. "I… I'm supposed to meet the owner."

The guard's skeptical gaze lingered on her rumpled appearance, but he didn't press further. Instead, he spoke into a small intercom clipped to his shoulder. Ruth caught snippets of his conversation in rapid Korean, her heart pounding with each unintelligible word.

Finally, the gate creaked open. "You may enter, ma'am," the guard said, stepping aside. "Someone will meet you inside."

She nodded her thanks-though he didn't care, really-and trudged up the stone path leading to the villa. With every step, her pulse quickened; her nerves twisted tighter. What manner of man was Frank Xia, this mystery benefactor her father had spoken of? And why was her father convinced this meeting would be a panacea for all ills?

As she reached the top of the stairs, the grand doors opened onto a tall man in a navy suit. His posture was perfect, his face impassive. "Miss Lee," he greeted her in flawless English, bowing slightly. "Welcome to Aurora. May I take your bag?"

"No, thank you," Ruth said quickly, clutching it tighter. She couldn't explain why, but letting go of her bag felt like surrendering the last shred of control she had.

He didn't press the issue. "This way, please."

Even more breathtakingly beautiful than the outside, the interior of the villa seemed to glow with the soft hue of the setting sun through its floor-to-ceiling windows, while its minimalist furniture was accented by traditional Korean art in an atmosphere of understated luxury. Ruth barely noticed any of it. She was trying to steady her breathing, practicing what she would say to Frank Xia when they finally met.

The man in the suit stopped at a large sitting room and gestured for her to enter. "Please, wait here. Mr. Xia will join you shortly."

Ruth nodded, stepping inside. The room was immaculate, the kind of place where one wrong move could shatter something priceless. She perched on the edge of an armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and tried not to fidget.

Minutes felt like hours. The silence was oppressive, relieved only by the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Just as she was about to lose her nerve and bolt, a deep voice pierced her thoughts.

"Ruth Lee."

She whipped around, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. He was tall, commanding, with sharp features and dark eyes that seemed to stare right through her. His tailored suit fit him to perfection, speaking volumes of money and power, but it was his confident smirk that set her off-kilter.

"Frank Xia," he said, coming into the room. His eyes scanned her down, resting on her mismatched shoes, wrinkled shirt. "You're not quite what I expected."

Ruth felt a prickle of irritation, heat rising in her cheeks. "And you're younger than I expected."

His smirk widened, seeming to be delighted with her spunk. "Touché.

Frank strode across the room with an ease of command and seated himself opposite to her. He leaned back in his chair, and looked steadily into her face so that she stirred uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Where's Peter?" he asked abruptly. His voice cut into the stillness like a whiplash.

Ruth started. "My brother… isn't here. There's just me."

Frank's face clouded at once; his eyes contracted into a keen suspicion. "Why?"

"Complications," he repeated, the incredulity dripping off every letter. "You want me to believe this?

Ruth's grasp on her bag tightened. "Believe what you like. I'm not here to justify anything to you."

Frank's face went flinty, and for one heart-stopping instant, she almost expected him to throw her out. Then, in one deft movement, he leaned forward onto his knees and spoke, suddenly almost affably.

"Do you know why your father sent you here?" he asked.

Ruth shook her head, her throat tightening. "No. He just said you could help."

Frank's lips curved into a smile, but it didn't rise to his eyes. "Help with what, exactly?"

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. "I… I'm not sure."

His smile vanished in an instant, leaving his face a mask of cold calculation. "Then let me make one thing clear, Miss Lee. I don't do charity. If your father sent you here thinking I'd clean up his messes, he's sorely mistaken."

Ruth's temper flared, overriding her fear. "I didn't ask to be dragged into this! I'm just trying to figure out what's going on, same as you."

Frank's eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite read-respect, maybe, or amusement. "Fair enough," he said after a long pause. "But if you want my help, you'd better start being honest with me."

Before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention. A woman entered the room, her elegant presence commanding immediate respect.

"Esther," Frank said, standing to greet her. "This is Ruth Lee."

Esther's beady eyes raked Ruth from head to toe, her expression unreadable. "Interesting choice," she said, her voice clipped. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Frank smirked. "Always."

Ruth felt like an outsider listening to a conversation not meant for her ears. But before she could dwell on it, Esther turned to her, her gaze piercing.

"You have no idea what you've walked into, do you?" Esther asked.

Ruth met her gaze, never one to back down. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

Esther's lips twisted wryly into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it. "You'll find out soon enough."