The Asian One
Will he see, it's not where a person comes from that counts?
A sexy Asian romance by Samantha Drake of BWWM Club.
Talia escapes heartbreak by going on a trip to Korea.
When she meets the handsome billionaire Hyung, her life changes forever!
Hyung grew up in America, but always felt like Korea was his true home…
And he expected to marry a Korean woman!
That all changes when he meets African American beauty Talia!
Their attraction is undeniable as they spend a day with each other…
But when Talia returns home, she realizes that her new boss is none other than Hyung!
Talia feels weird about the idea of dating her boss…
And Hyung always had a specific woman in mind that he wanted to marry!
Will they continue to deny their feelings for each other?
Or will they finally be able to surrender to their emotions?
Find out in this emotional yet sexy romance by Samantha Drake of BWWM Club.
Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll want your own Korean billionaire!
Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.
Get Another BWWM eBook Free!
Hi there. As a special thank you for buying this ebook, for a limited time I want to send you another one completely free of charge directly to your email! You can get it by clicking the cover below or going here:
Direct link: www.afroromancebooks.com/love-bwwm-romance-books
This book is so exclusive you can't even buy it. When you download it I'll also send you updates when new books like this are available.
Copyright © 2020 to Samantha Drake and AfroRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can be copied or distributed without written permission from the above copyright holders.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Get Another BWWM Ebook Free
BWWM Book Of The Week
More Hot BWWM Books You'll Love
Chapter 1
“I’m really sorry I had to leave early,” Damon said as he threw on his shades.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hyung said as he handed his friend the suitcase. “But when I’m back, you’ll have to treat me to a drink.”
“If only. I’m sure that as soon as you’re back in America you’ll return to being your usual workaholic and boring self.” Damon scoffed while he fluttered his plane ticket. Hyung wished he could deny the accusations, but he lived fully up to that status. If it wasn’t for Damon and Alec, Hyung doubted he would even leave the office.
“If that happens you can continue being your annoying self and drag me out,” Hyung sarcastically said. “You can even drag me into one of those clubs that you call fun.”
“You are the only living person that hates clubs, I swear!” Damon sighed in exasperation. “Anyway, I doubt I’ll have any time. My mom called this morning, apparently my grandfather's condition has worsened. I might have to take over all his work.”
Hyung knew exactly what his friend was going through. He knew how tiring it could be to take over a company as large as theirs. He'd done so not too long ago, when his father had passed. Everyone’s eyes had been on him, everyone had been ready to criticize his decisions and compare them to his father’s. Everyone criticized, but none of it was constructive. They just wanted to watch him crumble, like some hungry animals ready to feast on scraps. He'd been alone when all of it had happened, he didn’t have any friends to rely on, no one but his mother and grandparents. But, he was going to be beside Damon when all of it happened to him. God knew he needed all the help he could get. It wasn’t that his friend wasn’t a good business man—no, he was by far one of his best competitors. It was just that he was far more active outside business hours, his night life was full of action. He wasn’t as settled down and as calm as Hyung, and that could always be used against him if he were to officially take over.
“In that case, you, Alec and I will bond over documents and excessive amounts of coffee!” Hyung joked. “Doesn’t that so much more fun than beers and loud music?” Not that Hyung was some eighty-year-old guy that detested human beings and any form of life, but he loved teasing his friend.
“I’m going to leave before I hear more of your nonsense!” Damon sighed in exasperation. “Have fun! But not too much fun! Our beloved Kristel is still waiting for you back home.” Sarcasm dripped from the last statement. Damon never hesitated to express his disapproval of Hyung’s girlfriend. He couldn’t blame him, though. His girlfriend wasn’t exactly an easy person. “Speaking of which, how come she didn’t follow you here?”
“Korea doesn’t have enough malls to capture her interests.” Hyung shrugged. Making fun of his own girlfriend was low, but Hyung simply couldn’t hold back sometimes.
“I’ll tell her that,” Damon joked as he walked away. “Or I may leave it as blackmail.”
Hyung shook his head and chuckled as he leaned against his car. He stayed there, facing the airport, for a few good minutes, even after Damon had vanished behind the automatic glass doors. Hyung soon climbed into his car, but he still wasn’t sure where he was going.
He didn’t have anything planned for the day. Back in America, such a thing would never happen. He was always on a tight schedule, every second of his day was neatly packed in words across an agenda. His secretary, and Alec’s wife, Mia, often organized his days. But, when he was back in Korea, back in the land in which he'd been born, he liked to keep everything open. He felt alive and free there, he left everything to chance and fate. It was the only place where he could loosen up like that. The reasons were many, like the facts that no one was watching him there, and that he could relate to the people more.
Hyung sighed and decided to have lunch. He was already starving. Maybe after that he could have some coffee by the river, Han river was always a sight worth revisiting.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / / . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / / . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / /
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The center was packed. Almost all the restaurants were filled. The smell of traditional food snaked out the doors and through the streets, luring in the hungry passersby. Hyung smiled and took in a deep breath. The place smelled like his childhood, even though he'd been a young child, too young to even have concrete memories of his home country, the smell and taste of those dishes were like a blur in the back of his mind. But, even as a blur, they held an important meaning to him. Hyung entered the nearest restauran
t, deciding that some some black bean noodles were the best option for the day. It had been ages since he'd had some proper ones.
As soon as he entered the owner greeted him, she was a lady in her late fifties. Her short hair was pulled back. She’d just finished serving one of the tables and was about to head back into the kitchen, but before she did that, she promised Hyung she would be right back for his order. He loved the small restaurants in Korea, they were so different than the ones in American. The people there were so much friendlier, ready to truly invest in you while you were at their table. That’s why while he was in Korea he made sure never to dine at big and fancy restaurants, the small family ones made you feel like you were eating at home.
Across the room was the only empty table. He smiled and hurried there, but not before he noticed the foreign girl sitting at the opposite table. She was young, probably not more than twenty-five. She looked confused, her hazel eyes skimming through the menu that was probably only written in Hangul, the Korean alphabet.
“This one doesn’t even have a picture,” he heard her say as he passed by her table.
Her American accent seemed foreign in a place like that, even to him. Even after he sat down he continued subtly watching her. It might have seemed weird, but he found her expression funny. She talked to herself constantly, every time she turned the page a new wave of shock and confusion would cross her face. He understood her, though. The Korean menu was so much different from the American one. The food had so many more and new ingredients. The pictures reflected all those things, making anyone feel rather overwhelmed by the dishes, especially if it was someone that wasn’t really used to trying new things. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the owner again, she moved to the African-American girl in front of him. Hyung continued to watch. He wondered if the lady knew English, it was rare for old people to speak it.
For the following minute or so Hyung was fated to assist a rather awkward conversation. The woman spoke in Korean while the girl tried to ask about the chicken dishes. She used the simplest words but to no avail, the old lady clearly couldn’t understand her. The girl sighed and pursed her lips, eventually. Hyung watched her with curiosity as she took another glance over the menu, probably wondering if she should just try her luck and buy whatever dish was first. Usually, Hyung wasn’t one to butt in other people’s business. If it wasn’t some kind of life-or-death matter he never really interfered.
That’s why he surprised himself when he stood up to say, “The chicken dishes are the ones on the third page. But, I advise you to go with Tteokbokki. You don’t seem like the kind who tries too many adventurous foods. This dish is the safest.” Both women turned towards him. He walked towards them, his hands shoved in his pockets. His English still had some Korean traces, but it wasn’t anything too heavy. Just something that was stuck to him despite the years he’d lived in America.
“I’ll go with that then,” the girl answered, her voice still breathless, reflecting her shock. Hyung smiled and turned towards the old lady. He ordered his noodles and the girl’s Tteokbokki in Korean. The woman smiled and thanked him, before walking away.
Hyung was about to excuse himself and return to his table, but the girl with the hazel eyes spoke again.
“Thank you! The menu was a bit hard to understand. I tried using the pictures but—” She chuckled nervously. “Anyway, if you want, and you aren’t waiting for anyone, you could join me. It’ll be my treat.”
Hyung wasn’t sure of the last time that someone had offered to buy him a meal, everyone often expected him to do so. The girl didn’t seem to be aware how they seemed compared to Hyung's and none of them were ever as simple as her. Hyung contemplated but eventually sat down.
“I’m Talia, by the way.” She smiled and extended a hand.
“Hyung.”
“So, Hyung, do you live around here?” she asked as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“No. I’m from New York, I just came to visit.” The girl’s mouth popped open.
“I’m from New York, too! Or at least, I’m moving there as soon as I go back home,” she exclaimed as pointed at him. “No wonder your English is so good.” The girl nodded. She spoke with him without the least bit of hesitation. Hyung was used to being treated with overwhelming respect and fear. Almost no one dared be real in front of him, no one outside his close circle of friends; his status and power had that influence on those around him. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much he could do. “So, are you here to visit your family?”
“I moved there with my family when I was six.” Hyung hook his head. “What about you? What brings you to Korea?” He leaned over the table, his brown eyes boring into hers.
“This and that.” Hyung was good with people, his business required him to read right through everyone. He could tell she was escaping something, she was there for self-healing. “I've wanted to come here for a long while. I kept making excuses for not being able to, but something finally pushed me to just do it once and for all.” She sighed.
“Then how about we toast to finally being here?” Hyung said.
“This early?” Talia chuckled.
“It’s early.” Hyung nodded as he threw a glance out the window. “But Soju knows no time!” Hyung was never this open with strangers. He never even bothered with girls.
“Fine.” Talia nodded and laughed. That was the first time that Hyung felt it—the tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was as if her laugh had vibrated through him, awakening something he hadn’t experienced before.
A few minutes later their Soju and food arrived. They ate and spoke about nothing but everything. Hyung laughed so much that his cheeks hurt. He found Talia rather fascinating. She had the ability to keep him focused, to capture his attention. The more she spoke, the more he wanted to hear. He felt some kind of curiosity that he'd never felt before. He wanted to know more about her, so much that it scared him. He poured her glass after glass. He told her about Korea, about its traditions—most of which involved table manners. She listened to him attentively, nodding whenever he finished an idea. By the end of their meal, Talia knew almost all there was to know about Korean table customs.
“I just can’t believe you’ve been here for two days but you haven’t tried the barbecue yet!” Hyung exclaimed as they walked out of the restaurant.
“Well, you can’t really blame me. I didn’t have anyone to show me around. I mostly walked around.” Talia sighed as she adjusted the strap of her bag.
“Well, today is your lucky day!” Hyung said in a louder tone. “You will not only get to see Seoul, but today you’ll get to experience it like a true Korean!” he declared.
“Okay!” Talia nodded. “On one condition.”
Hyung frowned and turned to look at her.
“You don’t serve me any chicken feet!” Talia made a face at the thought. Hyung had been expecting a lot, he’d already thought of so many things she could impose. But he never saw that one coming. “I know it’s a delicacy around here, but I’m still trying to adjust.”
Hyung shook his head in amusement. The woman was surely something.
“Okay. No chicken feet,” Hyung agreed. “But you’ll have to try the spoon worms,” Hyung added without sparing her another glance. From the corner of his eye, however, he saw Talia’s mouth drop. Her hazel eyes widened and she even stopped for a second. Hyung fought the smile that threatened to play on his lips and kept on walking.
“Hey, wait for me!”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / / . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / / . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ./ / / /
She’d seen Han river before. She’d walked by its bank on the first day, right after her arrival. But it had been during the day, when the light still glistened above the still water. Kids had been playing around, with their parents close. It had been so loud, so full of life and harmony. She’d had no one to enjoy it with, however. She’d sat there, all alone, a prisoner of her own thoughts. It had been great therapy. She’d reflected upon so many things. Now, everything was silent. People walked by the water, hand in hand, or in small groups. The street lamps hovered over the ground, their bring light slashing through the darkness. Talia had been sipping a cup of coffee, a much welcome one at that. She and Hyung were silent for the first time since they’d met. She was thinking of nothing in particular, her mind was too filled with his presence. Every inch of her seemed to be aware of the man standing next to her, his intoxicating cologne heavy against her chest.
Eventually, they’d stopped walking and they sat down. They’d dodged the benches and went to sit on the grass. They were facing the river, the grass blades were damp and smooth beneath her, but she didn’t mind. Her attention was focused on the fresh air and the warm breeze that swayed by them.
“So, you never told me what you do for a living,” Talia finally asked, breaking the silence. Hyung turned to face her, his eyes hesitant.
“What do I look like I do for a living?” he asked, a tint of humor staining his voice. Talia found it odd that he didn’t immediately answer, but she decided to play along. So, she tapped a finger against her chin and pretended to take a closer look.
“Cars. You look like you can talk anyone into buying a car.” Hyung chuckled and shook his head.
“You’re close,” he nodded. “I work at a textile company. What about you? You mentioned you’ll move to New York. Is it because of work?”
The Asian One: BWAM, Asian Man, Billionaire Romance (Relatives From Money Book 5) Page 1
