Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Heir of D'Arcy
Ji-hoon had never felt more out of place in his life.
The private jet that took him from Seoul to Paris was an overwhelming display of luxury. Fine leather seats, attendants who smiled at him like they actually cared, and meals he could barely pronounce. It was a far cry from the cramped economy flights he had been used to on the rare occasions his father took him anywhere.
As the plane cut through the clouds, Ji-hoon couldn't shake the knot in his stomach. He was leaving everything behind—everything familiar, no matter how broken. The world that awaited him in Paris felt like a trap, gilded in luxury but suffocating all the same.
When the plane finally touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport, he was met by a driver holding a sign that read, "Welcome, Étienne."
Ji-hoon blinked, staring at the unfamiliar name. "I think there's a mistake," he mumbled. "My name's Ji-hoon."
The driver, a well-dressed man with a neatly trimmed beard, smiled politely. "Monsieur D'Arcy has requested you go by your new name from now on. Étienne D'Arcy."
Ji-hoon's heart sank as the realization hit him. This wasn't just about moving to Paris. It wasn't just about reconnecting with his mother or learning to live under the same roof as Lucien D'Arcy. It was about becoming someone else entirely.
His name—his very identity—was being stripped away.
Ji-hoon—no, Étienne—said nothing as the driver led him to a sleek black car waiting just outside. The journey through Paris felt like a blur, the city's beauty lost on him as he stared blankly out the window. His mind raced with questions. Why did his mother and Lucien want him to change his name? Was this their way of erasing his past, pretending that the life he had lived in Seoul didn't matter?
The car pulled up in front of an opulent mansion on the outskirts of Paris. It looked more like a palace than a home. Tall gates adorned with intricate ironwork framed the entrance, and sprawling gardens surrounded the massive estate. This was the kind of place Ji-hoon had only seen in movies.
As he stepped out of the car, the front door swung open, and there she was—his mother.
Yuna Shin, though she now went by Yuna D'Arcy, stood in the doorway, looking every bit the elegant figure he had remembered from photographs. She hadn't aged a day, her face still soft and graceful, framed by dark hair that fell neatly to her shoulders. But there was something different about her now—something polished and distant, as if she had been molded to fit into this world of wealth and grandeur.
"Ji-hoon," she said softly, stepping forward, her eyes searching his face.
"It's Étienne now," he muttered, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable.
A flicker of pain crossed her features, but she quickly masked it with a gentle smile. "I know this is… a lot. But Lucien believes this is the best way for you to integrate into this new life. It's a fresh start, for all of us."
Ji-hoon didn't respond. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't a fresh start—it was a forced one.
Lucien D'Arcy appeared beside his mother, his towering figure as imposing as ever. He extended a hand to Ji-hoon—Étienne—his face a picture of calm confidence. "Welcome home, Étienne."
Ji-hoon reluctantly shook his hand, the gesture feeling cold and formal. Lucien's grip was firm, and his eyes, though kind, seemed to study Ji-hoon like an artist appraising a canvas.
"I understand this must be difficult," Lucien said, his voice deep and measured. "But I want you to know that we see great potential in you. You're not just joining our family, Étienne. You're becoming a part of the D'Arcy legacy."
Ji-hoon's stomach twisted at the word legacy. He hadn't asked for any of this—certainly not to become the heir to a legacy he wanted no part of.
Lucien continued, "The D'Arcy name carries great weight in the world of ballet, but it's more than that. It's about culture, elegance, and tradition. You'll be expected to live up to those standards. You're not just Ji-hoon Kim from Seoul anymore. You're Étienne D'Arcy, heir to one of the most prestigious families in the world."
Ji-hoon could feel the walls closing in on him. This wasn't just a change of name—it was a change of identity. He wasn't simply being welcomed into the family. He was being groomed to replace Lucien, to carry on the legacy of a man he had no connection with, in a world he had always despised.
"And what if I don't want to be Étienne D'Arcy?" Ji-hoon challenged, his voice colder than he intended.
Lucien's expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of something stern in his gaze. "We all have responsibilities we don't choose, Étienne. But you'll come to see that this life—this name—will open doors for you that you never imagined. You'll have opportunities most people only dream of."
Opportunities. The word tasted bitter on Ji-hoon's tongue. He didn't care about opportunities. He didn't care about luxury or prestige or any of the things that seemed so important to Lucien and his world. He just wanted to be Ji-hoon, a boy who had been abandoned by his mother and neglected by his father.
But it was clear now that Ji-hoon no longer existed.
He was Étienne D'Arcy, the new heir to a legacy he wanted nothing to do with.
The mansion was even grander inside, with marble floors that gleamed under chandeliers and walls adorned with paintings that looked centuries old. Every room exuded wealth and sophistication. Ji-hoon couldn't help but feel small in comparison, like a piece that didn't quite fit into this elaborate puzzle.
As they walked through the house, his mother spoke softly, trying to make him feel at ease. "We've arranged for the best tutors in both academics and the arts. You'll be attending a prestigious academy here in Paris. It's a lot, I know, but you'll adjust."
Adjust. That seemed to be the word everyone was using—as if this entire upheaval of his life was something he could just adapt to, like moving to a new school or making new friends.
Lucien's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We've also arranged for your formal training in ballet to begin immediately."
Ji-hoon stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"
Lucien turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "You'll be trained by the best instructors in the world. Ballet will be a central part of your life now."
Ballet. Of course. This was never just about the D'Arcy name or legacy. It was about ballet, the art form his mother had left him for. The art form that had shaped Lucien's entire existence. And now, they expected him—Étienne—to follow in their footsteps.
"I don't want to dance," Ji-hoon—Étienne—said, his voice tight with anger.
Lucien's gaze hardened, but his tone remained measured. "It's not a matter of what you want, Étienne. It's about who you are now."
Ji-hoon clenched his fists, a storm of emotions raging inside him. He felt trapped, forced into a life he didn't want, under a name that wasn't his. But what could he do? He was alone, thousands of miles from the life he had known, with no one to turn to.
And so, as he stood in the grand hallway of the D'Arcy mansion, Étienne realized that his life was no longer his own.
He had been renamed.
He had been chosen.
He had been claimed.
Now, all that was left was to see if he would survive it.
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