Pov: RyuuI got home late that night—so late that I didn’t expect to find Beatrice still awake. She sat on the bed, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a book propped against her bent knees. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and the thin camisole clinging to her body did nothing to stop my eyes from trailing down the length of her legs. I forced my gaze away, muttering a curse under my breath as I headed straight for the bathroom. I needed a long, scalding shower to wash off the stench of another wasted day chasing ghosts. The hours spent gathering intel on Vincenzo Espósito had only left me with more questions and a deeper frustration gnawing at the edges of my patience. His release was inevitable, but what it meant for me—for all of us—was still uncertain. And uncertainty was something I couldn’t afford. Steam billowed around me as the water pounded against my back, but it did little to ease the tension tightening my muscles. When I stepped out, rubb
POV: Beatrice“What exactly is my role here?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, the weight in my chest pressing down like a stone. Fukui’s usual smirk faltered, his gaze flicking to his father as if searching for direction. Seeing him caught off guard brought me a fleeting, bitter satisfaction. “Your role?” Gojou echoed, his sharp eyes settling on me with unsettling precision. I held his gaze, refusing to shrink under the scrutiny. His thumb and forefinger rested against his chin, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. Every instinct screamed at me to tread carefully, but I pressed on. “Yes, my role. I was told I’m here to be the perfect wife, to uphold the Morunaga legacy,” I continued, my voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath it. “But what exactly am I supposed to do? Just sit here day after day, waiting for someone to tell me what my life should be?” I could feel their amusement, their unspoken taunts hanging heavy in the air. They
POV: RyuuI wasn’t expecting Fukui’s call that night. If he was reaching out, something was off. His only job was to keep Beatrice safe, and he wouldn’t be bothering me unless something wasn’t sitting right with him. "What happened?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the weight pressing down on my chest. I had just left a meeting with two of the other families, another wasted night chasing whispers and dead ends about the threats closing in on us. My patience was wearing thin, and now, standing in the lobby of our hotel—the polished front for our operations—I scanned the room with sharp eyes, searching for anything that might feel out of place. "Relax, Ryuu," Fukui’s voice came through the line, tight but not entirely reassuring. That single word only made my frown deepen. "Beatrice is fine, but… I’m worried about her. More than usual." His tone carried an exhaustion that settled like a stone in my gut. "Why?" I asked, my mind immediately jumping to our last encounter
POV: BeatriceA worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray wasn’t something I ever imagined finding among Ryuu’s belongings. Yet, there it was, the creased spine and dog-eared pages betraying how many times it had been read. As I picked it up to place it among my own books, a few photographs slipped free, drifting silently to the floor like ghosts of a past I didn’t know existed. Two photos. Both folded, creased with time. The first one sent a jolt through me—my mother. I had never seen this picture before. She looked younger, more vibrant, yet eerily similar to the last image I had of her, taken not long before she died. The other woman in the photograph was unfamiliar. Dark curls framed her pale face, her delicate features sharp yet elegant. There was something in the curve of her mouth, the intensity of her almond-shaped eyes, that reminded me of Ryuu. His mother, perhaps? My fingers trembled as I shoved the photos back into the book, pressing it onto the dresser with more force
POV: RyuuMy hands trembled, the roar of blood rushing through my ears drowning out everything else. Each breath clawed at my chest, tight and unrelenting. I barely made it to the bedroom, the weight of Vincenzo Espósito's name pressing down on me like a curse.Beatrice stood there, watching in silence. I wanted her gone, to let me drown alone in this storm of fury and pain. But the words wouldn't come, trapped behind clenched teeth.I tore at my clothes, ripping fabric in my desperation to shed the suffocating weight of my past. That man—my grandfather—Vincenzo Espósito. A name whispered in hate, spat from my father's lips my entire life. And now, I understood why.Twenty-four years. A lifetime of lies. How had they buried something so colossal? How had I never known?My shirt hung off my shoulders, my pants unfastened, my tie slack around my neck. I collapsed to my knees, fingers digging into my chest as I fought to breathe. The ragged sound filled the room, and then Beatrice moved—
POV: Beatrice"Surprised you showed up," Sophia said, watching me with that same quiet curiosity. "How are things? You and your husband left the party early. We didn’t get a chance to talk."I stared into my tea, fingers tapping lightly against the table. Being here felt off—same café, different reality. Ten guards blended into the background, but their presence was suffocating. Three behind us, two on either side, five outside. The café owner had been quick to cooperate; one mention of the Morunaga name was enough to secure compliance—and fear. Fukui wasn’t here today, a rare allowance I didn’t question."I met your uncle yesterday," I said, lifting the cup to my lips, watching for a reaction.Sophia straightened, her expression unreadable. "Uncle Vincenzo?" No surprise in her voice. "I haven’t seen him since he got out. Where did you run into him?""He showed up at my house. Forced his way in, brought some muscle. Rude as hell. Left Ryuu pissed."Sophia shuddered, picking at her pas
POV: BeatriceThe Morunaga Hotel restaurant was exactly what I expected—sophisticated, calculated. Candlelight flickered across tables draped in white linen, vines twisted from the ceiling, their pale flowers swaying under soft golden lights. The air smelled of expensive wine and ambition. Every seat was filled, yet the strategic spacing ensured an illusion of privacy. Our table, tucked into a shadowed corner, felt more like a containment than a courtesy.Eyes followed us the moment we walked in. They always did. Ryuu thrived under it, the tailored darkness of his suit sharpening the edges of his already imposing presence. His hair, styled with precision, and the weight of gold rings on his fingers painted a perfect picture of power wrapped in elegance. A businessman on the surface. A predator beneath.I sat across from him, feeling the weight of his silence. He scanned the restaurant, eyes moving over every detail, every person, like he owned them all. When his gaze finally met mine,
POV: RyuuBeatrice looped her arm through mine, leaning in just enough to sell the illusion. The act was seamless, but I could feel the fatigue weighing on her. The way she stifled a yawn behind her hand didn’t go unnoticed, and I doubted it was just the wine or the sickly sweet cocktail the waitress had brought her. Maybe she was just tired of my presence. The dinner had lapsed into silence, thick and suffocating.I watched her from the corner of my eye, irritated by the stares from across the room. Some tried to be discreet, others didn’t bother. The whispers, the curiosity—it was expected. I rarely entertained company, let alone a wife. News of our marriage had spread, and people had questions. Some had forgotten who I was, the influence I held. If anyone looked at Beatrice with something other than passing interest, I’d remind them exactly why that was a mistake.Despite the heavy atmosphere, I didn’t suggest leaving early. I should have, but something held me in place. Maybe it w
Beatrice’s POVMy breath hitched again, the weight of this nightmare pressing down on me, suffocating. Every choice felt like a trap, each second slipping away too fast. The room was empty, but death was circling, waiting, a predator in the dark.With trembling fingers, I typed the message: THERE ARE MEN IN THE HOUSE. I DON’T KNOW WHERE RYUU IS. I NEED HELP.The words glowed against the screen, sharp with panic. Pressing **send** felt like throwing an anchor into a storm, like clinging to something solid in a sea of terror. I tossed the phone onto the bed, my body stiff with fear, ears straining against the muffled footsteps outside. Time was slipping through my fingers. I couldn’t speak. One sound, one wrong move, and I was dead.I moved toward the c
Ryuu’s POV I never planned on going back to the bedroom that night. The only thing running through my mind was that Beatrice was safer without me. The past few weeks had dragged me into a pit I couldn’t climb out of. The anonymous threat against her, the pregnancy—everything weighed on me like lead, pressing down harder with every passing day. And today, after the appointment with Dr. Takagi, the reality finally hit me like a punch to the gut. That ultrasound image in my hands… I was going to be a father. The thought terrified me. How the hell was I—someone built from violence, shaped by control—supposed to be anything other than a disaster for this child? My father had failed me at every turn. What made me think I’d be any different? I shouldn’t have poured that first glass of whiskey in the dark silence of my office. But I didn’t stop at one. Or two. Or three. Or four. Now, all that was left was the bitter aftertaste and the emptiness growing with every sip
Beatrice’s POVI didn’t know what to say.The words stuck in my throat as I watched Sophia, her pain hidden behind that forced smile. A part of me felt like a terrible friend for unloading my own burdens on her, completely oblivious to the fact that hers might be far heavier.“I…” She hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers. “I didn’t handle it well afterward. I broke up with Fukui right after… and we never talked about it. I’ve never talked about it with anyone, actually.”Silence settled between us, thick and suffocating.“Are you…” My tongue felt dry as I searched for the right words. “Are you okay?&rd
Beatrice’s POVTwo weeks. That’s how long we’d been back in America.And yet, as I stared out the window of the black car, I still felt like I was in limbo. My reflection in the glass was pale, tense—just another ghost trapped in this endless cycle of uncertainty. Ryuu sat beside me, silent, his presence looming but unreadable.We were on our way to Dr. Takagi’s office.Today was my first ultrasound.The weight of that reality felt suffocating.Ryuu had arranged everything, just like he always did. And, to my surprise, he had kept his promise—staying by my side almost every day while I recovered.
Beatrice’s POVDespite his obvious irritation, Nitta listened. His lips pressed together in something that almost resembled a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he walked toward the door, he shot me one last look, as if asking if I was okay. I barely managed to return it before he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.“Are you alright?” Ryuu asked, his tone unreadable.“You keep asking me that,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. The letter slipped from my fingers, drifting to the carpet between us.“Am I not allowed to worry?” His exhale was heavy. “You’re crying.”I wiped my face quickly, feeling stupid. Of
Beatrice’s POV“Things were weird last time we spoke,” I admitted, watching his face carefully.“I was an idiot,” Nitta sighed, his shoulders relaxing. Behind me, I heard Fukui greet Ryuu, but I didn’t turn.“What’s new?” Fukui coughed, and Nitta shot him a glare but didn’t rise to the bait.“Whatever you have with Ryuu isn’t my business. I know I already apologized, but after our last conversation”—he hesitated, something unspoken passing between us—“I was defensive. I wasn’t sure where we stood. I’m sorry for being short with you. And as for you and Ryuu… I was selfish. It was my pride talking.”“You are a child,” Fukui cut in with a laugh.
Beatrice’s POV“My aunt Loretta suspected. She took me to see her doctor.” A chill ran down my spine at the memory. I wet my lips before continuing. “At first, I wasn’t sure. We took tests at home—one was negative, the other positive. I felt like my world was caving in. Espósito walked in right after. I hadn’t planned to tell him, but I was so lost… I needed someone to talk to.”“And that someone couldn’t have been me?” Ryuu’s voice was low, but the quiet impact of his words made my heart stutter.It could have been. But in that moment, it hadn’t felt like an option.“I needed to be sure first,” I admitted. “I wanted the test to be wrong
Beatrice’s POVSilence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. My fingers moved through Ryuu’s dark hair, the motion almost instinctive, desperate to soothe him even as my own heart pounded erratically. With every stroke, I felt his pain as if it were my own.Without thinking, I cradled his head against my stomach, holding him close in a futile attempt to shield him from the weight of everything crashing down around us. My hands trembled as they tangled in his hair, my stomach twisting at the realization of just how fragile this moment was. He still hadn’t spoken. I wanted to shake him, force him to snap out of whatever storm was raging inside him, but I knew he needed time. Too much had happened, too fast.Tears streaked his face, his bloodstained vest soaking up the moisture as he pressed agains
Beatrice's POV"And you didn’t take him to a hospital?" Her incredulous gaze snapped to me."I’m not going to a hospital," Ryuu muttered, his voice firm."That’s why you’re here," Anton added like it was some great relief."This isn’t as simple as stitching up a knife wound. You need imaging to determine if surgery is required. I can’t assess the damage or tell where the bullet is just by looking. Clearly, it didn’t hit a major artery or vein, given the blood loss, but the bullet is still inside you, and I can’t tell if it needs to come out.""Can it wait?" Ryuu tensed as she started cleaning the wound, the antiseptic stinging against raw flesh. Without the blood covering it, the injury looked worse.