Chapter Text
The afternoon sun hit the polished mahogany of the study inside the sprawling estate of the Lee family, but it offered no warmth. Donghyuck stood by the window, his reflection ghostly against the glass.
“Sorry,” he started, his voice thin, “what did you say?”
His mother didn't look up from the tea service. The porcelain clinked—a delicate, surgical sound. “Donghyuck, you heard me the first time. Don’t play obtuse.”
“Oh no, I heard you,” he turned, his fingers twitching against his thighs, a nervous habit he still hadn't kicked. “I’m just giving you a chance to take it back.”
“It’s in stone, Donghyuck.” She finally looked at him, her gaze as level as a horizon line. “You are being notified, not consulted.”
“Like hell it is!” The outburst shattered the room’s curated silence. He took a step toward the desk, palms slamming onto the leather inlay. “How can I not be consulted about my own fucking marriage!?”
“Mind your language, young man,” she said, her voice dropping an octave—a warning.
Donghyuck let out a sharp, breathless laugh, looking toward the family’s legal counsel, who stood like a silent, grey statue in the corner. “Mr. Park, you’re a man of logic. You agree that this is insane, right?”
The lawyer didn't blink, his hands clasped precisely behind his back. “My personal opinion is irrelevant, Donghyuck-ssi. The contract is legally binding and carries the weight of your father's final wishes.”
“Then who do I take this up with?”
His mother gestured vaguely toward the mantle. “Your father signed off on it.”
Donghyuck’s eyes snapped to the ceramic jar nestled between the heavy trophies and framed accolades. “My father in an urn above the fireplace.”
“Which is why I said it’s set in stone,” she replied, her composure never wavering. “Only he could have annulled the agreement, and you understand why he can’t.”
“But this is so stupid.” Donghyuck paced the length of the Persian rug, his boots sinking into the expensive wool. “I don’t even like women, and even if I did, I can’t give her children, so what legacy am I supposed to carry here?”
There was a pregnant pause. His mother set her teacup down with a finality that made his stomach drop.
“You’re not marrying a woman.”
Donghyuck stopped mid-stride. “Excuse me?”
“The deal was drafted in your childhood, long before your transition. Your hand was promised to the male heir of Flycom, not their daughter.”
The air seemed to leave the room. Donghyuck felt a sudden, cold sweat prickle the back of his neck. “Th-huh? A man?! All the more reason to call this off! I can’t marry a man!”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Hello? Do you see where we are?” He gestured wildly at the window, at the sprawling city of Seoul beyond. “Same-sex marriage isn’t even legal yet!”
“The wedding will take place in America,” she said, as casually as if she were discussing a change in the dinner menu.
“And high society will have a field day!” He was shouting now, the absurdity bubbling up in his chest. “Gay marriage amongst chaebols? Has everyone lost their mind?”
“Donghyuck…” She sighed, a sound of genuine exhaustion. “You’re a trans man. Nothing you do will ever warrant more controversy than the day you announced that to the world.”
The words hit him in the chest, making him flinch. His shoulders curled inward, a phantom weight settling over him as he remembered the media frenzy, the whispers, the months of feeling like a specimen under a microscope. “Okay, fine. I don’t have any reputation left to ruin. But what about him? Surely, he wouldn’t want to shoulder the scandal just to marry me. I’m not even the heir to Lee Corp!”
“You were never supposed to be,” she reminded him, her voice softening just a fraction. “You were promised to him as a second son—well, daughter at the time. It was never about inheriting the empire through you.”
“Then what is it supposed to be about?”
She hesitated, her eyes drifting to his midsection, a look that made him want to bolt for the door. “About your children inheriting his empire through him.”
“My—my children?” Donghyuck felt a sudden, sharp pang of dysphoria, a cold shiver that made him want to bolt for the door.
“Your cycle will return upon pausing your hormone therapy,” she said, her tone becoming clinical, professional. “You’ll be seen by top fertility specialists, of course, but you should be able to—”
“Okay, pause. Pause right there.” He held up his hands, his head spinning. He felt a wave of nausea at the thought of his body being treated like a piece of dormant machinery to be switched back on. He knew it could be done; the reason he was still a woman on every relevant document was precisely that he still had his reproductive organs intact – conservative Korean laws quietly demanded sterilization to allow a legal gender change.
“You just said the one who really stands to gain something is us, not them,” he summarized after a long pause, trying to appear a lot more put together than he actually felt. “But he’s the one taking the blow to his reputation. How is this deal still standing?”
“Because your father made them sign it so,” Mr. Park chimed in, his mother nodding along.
Donghyuck let out a breath of disbelief. “Is the breach payout really that big?” he asked, turning to the lawyer.
“It is catastrophic,” Mr. Park replied, finally stepping forward. “Lee Corp held the leverage at the time. There’s a lot to lose if they decide to withdraw, and a lot of Lee Corp stock to be gained if they proceed.”
Donghyuck sank into a chair, his face buried in his hands. The weight of his father’s ghost felt heavier than the urn on the mantle. “Oh my God, he’s going to hate me,” he murmured, already picturing the face of disgust his future husband would look at him with for the rest of his life. “You guys have his hands tied. The poor guy is very likely straight and you’re making him marry me and... and impregnate me? And give my child all he has worked for? I will ruin his life. He’s going to freaking hate me.”
His mother looked out the window, her silhouette sharp against the dying light. “That is… plausible, yes. But understand that at the time, it made sense. You were a beautiful girl from a powerful conglomerate and he was the promising heir of a global telecommunications giant. It wasn’t supposed to be this messy.”
“I made it messy when I transitioned,” Donghyuck whispered.
She turned back, her expression unreadable. “Well… yes, a little bit.”
“Is there really no way out of this?” he asked one last time. He looked from the lawyer to his mother—the woman who had defended him against the public, who had paid for his surgeries, who had called him her son when no one else would.
She had been a wonderful mother. Still was.
“Our hands are as tied as theirs, my son. This wedding is set in stone.”
But she couldn’t give him this.
“The wedding is in five months,” Mr. Park stated, his voice devoid of emotion. “Your twenty-fifth birthday was the contractual deadline. We’ve postponed it as much as we could, waiting for them to back out, but the window has closed.”
“I’m freshly twenty-four,” Donghyuck countered, his voice rising in a desperate pitch. “We can delay it longer. Another year, surely?”
“They’re putting pressure on us, Donghyuck-ssi. There is a fear on their part that letting you… continue as you are for much longer might damage your, ehm…” The lawyer cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as he searched for a delicate word.
“My fertility,” Donghyuck finished for him, the word tasting like lead in his mouth. “They think another year of hormone therapy and I won’t be able to provide their precious legacy.”
“Correct,” the lawyer said, looking down at his tablet to avoid Donghyuck’s gaze.
“It all keeps coming back to that.” Donghyuck slumped back, the air leaving his lungs.
“You knew it was a life-changing decision when you made it,” his mother said. She wasn't being cruel—she was stating a fact, the way one might discuss a bank withdrawal.
“Sure, it was supposed to change my life,” he snapped back, “but it wasn’t supposed to ruin the life of some guy on a different continent whom I haven’t even met yet!”
“You’ll meet him soon enough,” his mother replied calmly.
“What, at the altar?”
“Not by design. But he is a busy man, and wedding preparations traditionally don't involve the groom much,” she explained, shrugging like it was a simple fact of life. Although a shrug in her perfect posture was less of a “meh” sentiment and more of a “caring about it is beneath me”. “In this case, that might end up being the reality.”
Donghyuck felt a fresh wave of horror. “Oh my god… don’t tell me I have to plan a wedding with—”
“With your mother-in-law,” she interrupted. “That is correct. She is already coordinating with our staff.”
Donghyuck let out a hysterical, sharp sound that was half-laugh and half-sob. He turned toward the mantle, pointing a trembling finger at his father’s ashes.
“If that woman poisons my tea for not being the perfect daughter-in-law she dreamed of,” he threatened, his voice cracking, “I’m coming for you first. I’m haunting you in the afterlife until you beg for a second death.”