Chapter 1
Wontey Restaurant was a masterpiece of architectural elegance, perched on the scenic edge of the city. Its most striking feature was the front wall—a massive, seamless pane of glass designed so that customers could lose themselves in the breathtaking view of the ocean while enjoying their meal. Inside, the layout was intimate: a state-of-the-art kitchen, three restrooms (two for guests and one for the owners), and a beautifully designed lobby that could comfortably seat twenty-five people. Every table was adorned with fresh flowers, and the marble flooring shimmered under the soft lights. It was small, but every inch breathed luxury.
It was a Wednesday, the grand opening of Wontey. The restaurant was the lifeblood of three siblings: Honsu, the eldest and a culinary genius; Dohon, the middle brother with a palate so refined he could balance any spice; and Dohi, the youngest sister, whose mastery over hand-ground coffee was unparalleled. Together, they shared a single, burning ambition—to make Wontey the most prestigious restaurant in the country.
The first day was a triumph. Honsu's dishes were met with awe, and Dohi's coffee became an instant sensation. By the second day, while Honsu was buried in work, Dohi rushed into the kitchen, shouting with joy as she thrust her phone toward him.
"Brother, look at this!"
Honsu glanced at the screen from the corner of his eye. Social media was exploding. Photos of Wontey's food were viral, with people around the world sharing their experiences.
"Hmm. Good. At least people appreciate quality," Honsu said coolly, barely breaking his rhythm.
"It's more than good!" Dohi cried. "We have to expand! The world is coming for us!"
"Calm down, Dohi," Honsu sighed. "We've only been open for two days. Expansion won't happen for another five years."
"We'll see about that," Dohi smirked.
She was right. Within five days, the crowds were so massive they spilled out of the lobby and onto the streets. The small restaurant was drowning in its own success. Honsu and his siblings were overwhelmed by the sudden weight of their fame.
"I was wrong," Honsu admitted, staring at the chaos. "We can't handle this."
"So, what's the plan, Brother?" Dohon asked. "Do we find a new building? A two-story mansion?"
"No," Dohi interrupted firmly. "This place is the last memory of our parents. We stay here, but we grow."
Honsu smiled. "You're right. We grow here."
For five months, construction hummed. Wontey was transformed into a five-star landmark. The ground floor now seated sixty, and the upper floor held fifty more. But a single chef could no longer sustain the demand. The siblings decided to hire a professional-level chef, a search that was announced nationwide.
On a Tuesday, Honsu and Dohi prepared for the interviews. "Don't just pick someone ordinary, Dohi," Honsu warned sternly. "I need a professional, someone who truly understands the soul of food."
"Fine, fine! I'll just watch. You do the talking," Dohi pouted.
Wontey now had a fan following of millions, and every cook in the country dreamed of entering its kitchen. Ten candidates arrived for the first round, ready to face the legendary, cold-hearted Honsu.
The first candidate, Hon Say Hon, presented his CV with a cocky grin. "My CV speaks for itself. I am a high-level chef from another city."
Honsu scanned the papers. "Impressive skills. But tell me, do you speak English? We serve international guests."
The man looked down, embarrassed. "No... I only speak Japanese."
"You have talent," Honsu said, a cold smile playing on his lips, "but I need an educated chef who can communicate globally. Rejected."
He went through nine more chefs, rejecting them all for various flaws. Finally, the last candidate entered—a local girl. The moment she stepped in, Honsu's eyes widened.
"Brother, she's so beautiful!" Dohi whispered behind her hand.
"Silence," Honsu snapped, though he too was struck.
The girl, Leza, was stunning. Wearing high heels and a chic black skirt that showcased her elegant figure, she looked more like a model than a chef. Her dark, sparkling eyes were framed by perfectly styled hair, and her pink lips shimmered. Honsu felt a momentary slip in his composure but quickly regained his mask.
"Let's begin," he said. "Tell me about yourself."
"Nice to meet you. I am Leza, twenty-one years old," she began gracefully. "I was taught by my mother. I am confident that my skills can benefit Wontey."
"Do you speak English?"
"Of course," she smiled. "And I believe cooking with the love a mother teaches is what this restaurant needs."
Honsu nodded. "A mother's love in cooking... that is exactly what I'm looking for. But words are cheap. You will cook your signature dish for me to prove you're telling the truth."
He stood up, extending his hand. "Shake on it. Complete your first trial."
As Leza reached out, Honsu's eyes locked onto her right hand. He stopped. "Wait. What happened to your fingers? Why are there only four?"
Leza flinched, her face pale as she jerked her hand back. "It... it is a birth defect. I was born this way."
The room went cold. Honsu stared at her for a long minute before speaking with a voice like ice. "Rejected. Go home. The interviews are over."
He turned and walked out. Dohi hurried to Leza's side, trying to offer some comfort. "My brother... he's a perfectionist. He doesn't understand."
"It's okay," Leza whispered, looking at the floor before walking out into the fading light.
In a desperate attempt to find comfort, Leza called her fiancé. They were supposed to be married in a week. She called three times, but the line was dead. She opened their chat, only to find three texts that turned her world into ice.
She stood frozen as her phone and purse slipped from her hands, crashing to the ground. Tears blurred her vision. "There's no point now," she choked out. "The person I thought was my life has rejected me too."
Later that evening, Honsu was driving home. As his car reached the massive city bridge, he saw a girl standing on the wrong side of the railing, staring at the dark abyss of the water below.
"I've seen her before..." Honsu muttered, slamming on his brakes. "Is she... trying to die?"
He looked closer, recognizing the dress. "It's her. The girl with the four fingers. Leza."
Leza stood on the edge, her heart heavy with the weight of two rejections. "Mom, Dad... I'm coming to you," she whispered, leaning into the void.
Just as she let go, a powerful hand clamped onto her arm. Honsu had lunged forward, his chest crushing against the metal grill as he caught her in mid-air.
Leza looked up, her eyes filled with misery and shock. "You? Why did you come to save me?"
Honsu stared into her eyes, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. What an idiot girl... to end it all over a rejection. But why did I do it? Why did I save her? What is happening to me?