Meet The Kwongs

Orm sat on the couch in Lingling's penthouse, flipping through a fashion magazine that had somehow landed in Lingling's meticulously organized living room. She glanced up as Lingling entered the room, looking unusually fidgety.

"So," Lingling began, sitting down next to Orm and crossing her legs with calculated grace. "My parents... want to have dinner with us."

Orm raised an eyebrow, her sass kicking in immediately. "Parents? Plural? As in the people who gave us CEO Lingling Kwong?"

"Yes," Lingling replied, her tone clipped, though her cheeks turned pink. "And my sister, Milk."

Orm smirked. "Milk? Is this a family thing? Should I be calling myself Coffee?"

Lingling groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I knew you'd be insufferable."

Orm blinked, then grinned. "Oh, so it's official? They want to meet the girlfriend."

Lingling groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You don't understand. I never told them. How do they know? And what if they—"

Orm stood and walked over to Lingling, gently placing her hands on her shoulders. "Ling, breathe. It's just dinner. They're your parents. What's the worst that could happen?"

Lingling threw her hands up. "My parents don't do casual dinners, Orm. Everything they do has... implications."

Orm tilted her head, feigning innocence. "What kind of implications?"

Lingling narrowed her eyes, her suspicion growing. "Why are you so calm about this?"

"Because I'm great with parents," Orm said with a grin. "Come on, Ling. What's the worst that could happen?"

Lingling groaned, running a hand through her hair. "You have no idea."

The Kwong estate was as grand as Orm remembered. Marble floors, chandeliers that probably cost more than her café, and an air of elegance that could intimidate royalty. Lingling gripped Orm's hand tightly as they entered, her tension palpable.

"Relax," Orm whispered. "You're squeezing the life out of my hand."

Lingling shot her a glare. "Don't tell me to relax. They're probably planning to interrogate you."

Orm bit back a laugh. "I think I can handle it."

The moment they stepped into the dining room, the atmosphere shifted. Mr. Kwong sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. Mrs. Kwong greeted them with a warm but poised smile, while Milk lounged in her seat, her mischievous grin already spelling trouble.

"Lingling." Mr. Kwong said, his tone clipped. "You're late."

Orm glanced at her watch, frowning. "We're five minutes early."

"Late is late," Mr. Kwong replied, his sharp gaze landing on Lingling. "You didn't tell us about your girlfriend. But I suppose we'll find out."

Orm's posture straightened, but she caught the flicker of mischief in Mr. Kwong's eyes.

They took their seats, Lingling sitting stiffly next to Orm, her shoulders tense. The first course arrived, and the questions began.

"So, Orm, right?" Mr. Kwong began, cutting into his appetizer with surgical precision. "Tell me about yourself. What do you do?"

"I own a café," Orm replied smoothly. "Blooming Beans."

"A café," Mrs. Kwong echoed, her tone measured. "And you find that fulfilling?"

Orm smiled. "Very. It's not as glamorous as, say, running a multinational corporation, but it's mine. I built it from the ground up."

Mr. Kwong leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "Hmm. Small but yours. Admirable. Though I wonder... is it sustainable? Financially?

Lingling's fork clattered against her plate. "Dad!"

Orm smiled. "Very. And if it ever isn't, I have a backup plan."

"What plan?" Mr. Kwong pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Orm's grin widened. "My family owns a chain of boutique hotels and several properties in prime locations. I guess I could fall back on that."

There was a beat of silence as Lingling's parents exchanged glances. Milk burst out laughing. "Oh, I like her already."

"Milk, shut up," Lingling snapped, her cheeks burning.

Mr. Kwong leaned back in his chair, his expression slightly more relaxed. "So, you're not just a barista."

"I'm not," Orm said simply. "But I don't need my family's wealth to define me."

"So, Orm," Mrs. Kwong began, "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Lingling nearly choked on her wine. "Mom!"

Orm, unflappable as ever, leaned forward with a grin. "Well, ma'am, I was planning on marrying her and stealing all her wealth. But now that you've caught me, I might just stick to loving her instead."

Mrs. Kwong chimed in, her voice deceptively strict. "We just want to make sure she's taken care of, dear. You understand, right, Orm?"

Orm, to her credit, didn't flinch. "Completely. And I can assure you, Lingling is more than capable of taking care of herself. But I'll always be there to support her, no matter what."

The sincerity in her voice made Lingling's chest tighten, but she didn't have time to react before her sister Milk spoke up.

"Support her, huh?" Milk said, her grin mischievous. "Are you sure about that, Orm? You know Ling can be... intense."

"Milk," Lingling hissed, glaring daggers at her sister.

"What?" Milk said innocently, turning to Orm. "I'm just saying, it's not too late to run."

Orm laughed, shaking her head. "Thanks for the warning but I think I'll stick around."

Lingling groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

As the courses continued, the tension in the room built—or at least, that's how it felt to Lingling. Her parents kept asking pointed questions about Orm's background, her intentions, and her ability to handle Lingling's intense personality.

By the time dessert arrived, Lingling couldn't take it anymore. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Enough," she said, her voice firm. "If you don't approve of Orm, just say so."

Mrs. Kwong blinked, startled. "Lingling, sit down."

"No," Lingling snapped, her voice cracking slightly. "I love her, okay? If you have a problem with that, then—"

"Lingling," Mr. Kwong interrupted, his stern facade breaking into a grin. "Relax. We already approve."

Lingling froze. "What?"

Mrs. Kwong laughed softly, her sharp demeanor softening. "We've heard about Orm for months. We wanted to see how you'd handle the pressure."

Milk burst into laughter. "And you failed spectacularly."

"You knew?" Lingling stared at them, her cheeks flushing with a mix of relief and indignation.

"Of course we knew," Mr. Kwong said, smirking. "We've already met Orm. Lovely girl."

"And," Mrs. Kwong added, "we were worried about you, Lingling. We thought you'd never find someone who could handle you."

"Handle me?" Lingling repeated, her voice rising. "I'm not a wild animal!"

Milk snorted. "Could've fooled me."

As the laughter died down, Orm leaned back in her chair, grinning. "You guys really went all out with this."

"Oh, we had to," Mr. Kwong said, chuckling. "When we heard about your relationship, we couldn't resist."

Lingling's jaw dropped. "Wait. You knew?"

Orm shrugged, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Of course. They called me last week to coordinate the dinner. I couldn't say no."

"You were in on this?" Lingling exclaimed, her voice pitching higher than usual.

"I was sworn to secrecy," Orm said, laughing. "Besides, it was fun watching you squirm."

As they left the estate, Lingling was still fuming. "I can't believe you were in on this."

Orm grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Your parents are great. And Milk is hilarious."

"They're insane," Lingling muttered. "I'm never bringing you back here."

"Oh, come on," Orm teased, pressing a kiss to Lingling's lips. "Admit it. You're glad they like me."

Lingling sighed, her irritation melting as she leaned into Orm. "Fine. But only because it means I don't have to kill them for embarrassing me."

Orm laughed. "Love you too, Ling."

And for the first time that evening, Lingling allowed herself to relax, knowing that no matter how chaotic her family was, Orm fit right in.