A private detective visits her client.
-----------------------------
I pulled up to the ornate gate. The house, a huge faux-historic mansion is still a half mile off. I beep to get the attention of the guard located in the shed like guard house. His eyes pop open in shock and I can hear a giggle from below the window.
"Here to see Mr. Moon."
"Name?"
"Valary Tran."
The young man goes over the list on his desk. His face gets steady redder, he's approaching climax.
"Uhh..yeah."
One hand reaches below my sight. It moves back and forth, the girl's head in his grip.
"You can enter."
A buzz goes off. The gate swings up. I don't move. I pull up my shirt, giving the guard an impromptu look at my B cup breasts. It sends him over the edge. He lets out a grunt and I drive off.
I pull into the half circle driveway and head up to the door. I ring the bell and a piece of classical music plays. The door opens and an older man wearing a full tuxedo stands before me. We stare at each other for a moment.
"Valary Tran." I offer.
"Yes." He nods demurely and leads me through the house.
We walk silently through a never touched all white living room, three 150 thousand dollar contemporary paintings, and a bathroom with what appears to be a gold toilet. We arrive at a door tucked away behind the staircase. The butler knocks once and a deep voice answers out. The door opens fully and the butler ushers me in and closes the door behind me.
Behind a huge walnut desk sits the imposing, but aging, figure of Dae-Song Moon, media conglomerate.
"You have information for me?"
I hand him the flash drive. He plugs it in and clicks on the first file. It's a picture of his wife, Ji-Yu Moon. The twenty-five year old stands out on the busy shopping center streets. Among the throngs of soccer moms in yoga pants and overwhelmed nannies, Ji-Yu's natural beauty makes her sundress look like a ball gown.
Dae-Song clicks for the next picture. Ji-Yu enters a laser tag venue.
Next.
Ji-Yu hugging the owner.