'They say hell hath no greater fury than a woman scorned, but then again, whoever said that obviously never met my father. When he got into one of his rages, he would have given some of those scorned women a run for their money. He wasn't a religious man, my father, calling it 'spiritual drivel' on more than one occasion, however, he did like to tell people to go to hell. He was just that kind of man and unfortunately, he was rich enough to stop people from doing anything about it. I do not in any way condone my father's actions, however, I refuse to be the one to apologise on his behalf. Wherever he is now, I hope he knows that karma is a b*tch. Even when you're dead.'
The chatter in the vast hall had resumed, creeping in through the cracks, whispers of half-formed gossip lines, and the silence that had held such a tight grip on Yingyue was finally subsiding. She felt two hands on either side of her, one slender and pale, belonging to a woman and the other much stronger and more masculine. The imbalance in power as both people who were trying to help Yingyue up made her falter even more and sent her careening into the woman who deftly maneuvered herself out of harm's way as Yingyue's arm came flying up and nearly smacked the other, older woman in the face. As she steadied herself on the arm of the man to her right, the woman who stood in front of her fussed over her now stained white trenchcoat.
"Yingyue, you have so got to stop daydreaming, if you keep doing that, someday, I swear, you'll get run over by a truck or something, honestly," the woman said loudly as she took YingYue's shoulders and shook them as if that would shake some sense into her. "Do you want to damage your reputation beyond repair in front of all these influential people?" the woman hissed in a strong Chinese dialect in Yinyue's ear under the pretense of holding her close for a hug. "Darling, I haven't seen you for ages and look at you, still falling over like a child who just learned how to walk."
"Thank you for your concern, Auntie Wu, I'm fine, nothing a plaster and some vodka neat won't fix," Yingyue cracked a sardonic smile and looked around to the man who had helped her up. He was a full head taller than Yingyue even with her heels on and wore a black tuxedo. His face was sharp and angular with the highest cheekbones Yingyue had ever seen. Surprisingly, as she studied his face, there seemed to be a sense of familiarity that Yingyue couldn't quite put her finger on.
"You must be Serena, my Chinese pronunciation is not great so I won't attempt to pronounce whatever Miss Wu was calling you, I'll only mangle it," the stranger smiled wryly and bent down to retrieve her purse for her. He handed it back and pulled in for two air kisses which Yingyue accepted without complaint.
"Thank you, and it's actually Selena, and you are?" Yingyue asked, her mind whirring as it searched through the vast database of faces and names of people she probably should remember out of courtesy but hadn't really bothered to.
"Adrian Lee, it's a pleasure. I was an acquaintance of your father's, my deepest condolences -" He was cut off abruptly by a menacing finger Yingyue had put in between the minimal space between them before moving back so she could look him dead in the eye. He could see the frustration building up as she clenched her long fingers of her right hand into a tight fist.
"Please, spare me the sob story, Aunt Wu is only the beginning of a long list of people who will inevitably be here to harass me about how my father's assets will be divided and to see if they can dig their claws into anything valuable. I don't know how anything is to be divided yet, I haven't seen his will, hell, you can divide it up on a first come first serve basis for all I care," she spat out, barely containing her disgust.
"Selena, I have no intention of doing any such thing. I understand that you are his only daughter," Adrian replied evenly. His tone, as well as the way he just dropped the subject without any of the usual wheedlings she had had to endure in similar conversations, caught Yingyue off guard and she unbunched her fists and averted her eyes.
"Yes, why?" Yingyue was getting uncomfortable, her eyes darting anywhere but the man in front of her, and felt her fingers itching to move as they always did when she was nervous, she found herself drumming her fingers of her left hand in the finger pattern of her favourite violin piece which alternated between the crazy-fast 'In the Hall of the Mountain King' and the Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' concerto suite.
"So he has no sons?'
"No, well, I don't have any brothers that I know of. Mr. Lee, I must go and find my seat now, I suggest you do as well. The ceremony is about to begin." With that Zhao Yingyue turned her heel, flicked her hair and marched away as best she could in her killer heels and sore ankle towards the from pews which had been reserved by copious amounts of red rope and even another equally terribly dressed usher in the same hideous uniform as the doorman.
Adrian watched her walk away and a smile played around his thin lips while his eyes gleamed dangerously. He had been expecting a haughty young heiress with nothing but designer labels and fashion fads in her head and more money in her trust fund than she had sense. He had been mentally preparing to woo her into blindly signing over all her inheritance and whatever she had of Zhao Hai Industries. However, it seemed that he wouldn't even need to go to the trouble of winning her over, she was going to hand over what control she had been given by her late father. willingly.
Well, well, well. Zhao Bohai, it seems like your legacy ends here, in the lily-white hands of your own daughter. Adrian smirked to himself as he slid into a pew next to an old dear who started blushing and gossiping to another old lady next to her about him as if he wasn't there. When he had been alive, Zhao Bohai had once promised Adrian that 'hell would freeze over before he laid a finger on Zhao Hai Industries'. How ironic.