Her Tempestuous Villain

In the middle of the vast ocean, a luxurious yacht was floating along the blue waves. The name of the yacht, "Les Couleurs" was etched on it with a golden cursive font. Bright rays of sunshine fell on the yacht, livening up the party which was going on in full swing on the deck.

Several bikini clad women were dancing with men in swimming shorts or Hawaiian shirts while a topless DJ was blasting the music on maximum volume. Servers carried drinks on round trays while entrees were being passed around. Some people were in a corner, snorting cocaine and other drugs. There were also a few couples kissing and openly making love under the sun, not caring about privacy because they were all high on adrenaline and drugs.

Most of the guests were foreigners belonging to different countries. The host of the party was sitting somewhere, hiding in plain sight. But the guests did not care. They were all brought together by their unknown boss and were too busy partying to fret over other details.

As the guests partied on, a lone man in his late twenties was quietly walking towards the inner corridor of the yacht. He shut the door to the deck behind him and continued down the red and blue aisle until he reached the end.

There was another door to his right and he opened it to step into a luxurious hall. The walls were covered with tiny square shaped mirrors, reflecting the thin man's image as he passed through the elegant room. The French furniture was adorning the room with comfortable bergeres surrounding the fireplace and a large, rare portrait of Louis XVIV hung over it.

The man stopped in front of a door and knocked on it.

"It's me," he said. "Artaud."

There was a stony silence for a few minutes before a deep voice said, "Come in."

Artaud entered the room and headed towards a large chaise which was turned the other way. A king sized bed lay in the middle of the room while the red tapestry depicted a long family history. There was a small fire lit in the fireplace, blazing softly. The room would have seemed unoccupied if it was not for the faint cigar smoke coming from the chaise.

"General, I have some grim news," Artaud said. He waited for his boss to diffuse the cigar. A tall, muscular figure stood up from the chaise and turned around. The man was in his late sixties with a good physique and sharp looks. Even at that age, he was considered good looking. Neat streaks of white hair lined up on his greyish black hair while his dark eyes peered at Artaud.

"Speak," the General stated.

"Mikhael...the ambassador of Country R was caught in the slave trade," Artaud reported. "And now, he's missing-"

"It's obvious that Choi Taek killed him," the General said, picking up a wine bottle and pouring it into a glass. "After all, Choi Taek was responsible for the trade and Mikhael was in charge of soliciting it. The Choi's lost a lot of money in it."

"Sir, that will put a dent in our Sailors' Reef Bridge project," Artaud pointed out. "If Choi Taek can't finance us then we won't be able to build that bridge. The Prime Minister is also investing a lot of time and money in it."

The General sipped his wine, thinking carefully.

"What is the Crown Prince up to?" he demanded. "Is he in line or straying?"

"He's been strangely quiet," Artaud frowned. "However, our old friend, Kirishima, has been very vocal. I have information that many of his men were being sent to Aberville Prison. Sir, they might try to break Six out of there."

The General did not react but kept on sipping his drink. He was quiet for a while but then burst out laughing, surprising Artaud.

"Six, huh?" he wheezed. "That man sure has an iron will. Two decades behind the prison walls didn't break him."

He snickered and drank the wine as if he remembered something amusing.

"But if the Yakuza are planning to break him out then it'll be detrimental to our plans," Artaud stated. "He knows your identity, General."

"Everyone knows my identity," the General said in a lazy tone. "Anyone who was in the royal family knows my identity. It's not surprising at all. But they can't do anything to me. The country is in my grasp…"

He clenched his fingers into a fist to show his might. "The Light is powerless against me," he went on. "The Leader of the Light is now forced to send his best men after me but they will fail. They always do."

"I have heard that Number Two is on the move," Artaud warned. "No one knows who Two is. For the past few years, he's been strategically taking out our businesses. The lawyer who confiscated the ship, Han Sunye. She might be in cahoots with Two. Or she might be Two herself. Choi Taek is also after her life for some unknown reason."

"Keep an eye on her," the General ordered. "Let me know of her moves and what she's doing. Also…"

He looked directly at his assistant with an emotionless gaze.

"Keep an eye on Lee Jonghyun," he said. "That brat isn't quiet. If he's in cahoots with the Yakuza, I'm sure he's planning to overthrow me. If needed, send him a little warning."

"Understood, General," Artaud said with a bow and left the room. Once Artaud was gone, the General walked over to the fireplace, staring at the yellow and orange flames. His mind was absorbed in the memories of the past he had once abandoned.

An image of a beautiful woman with twinkling eyes and a wide smile flashed into his head, tormenting him. She was carved into his memory, not leaving his mind nor heart.

"Even in death, you don't cease to torture me, Dahyun," he whispered. He sat on the bed, still reminiscing about the woman who was his biggest regret. The one for whom he started this unending war.

"Just die already!" he hissed. "Die!"