5: Lines in the Sand

Point of View: Beatrice

Dario, the second eldest of my cousins, had always been the quiet, brooding type—the kind of man whose presence alone carried weight. It made me uneasy sometimes, but today, his stoic calm was a relief. Anton and Lex, still teenagers at nineteen and seventeen, felt more like brothers, full of youthful energy and sharp opinions.  

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” Ryuu said, extending a hand to Bion, the eldest of my cousins.  

Bion clasped his hand firmly, his silence speaking volumes. The low grunt that followed made his disapproval abundantly clear. To my surprise, Ryuu didn’t rise to the bait. His unreadable expression barely wavered as he gently took my hand.  

The touch was brief but purposeful, his lean into my space deliberate. His lips hovered closer than necessary to my ear, a gesture calculated to make me feel trapped.  

“I’ll leave you with your family,” Ryuu murmured, his tone smooth but distant. Then he straightened and walked away, his retreat as abrupt as his presence.  

I didn’t move, still processing the lingering heat of his touch and the sudden relief of his absence. Why bring me here at all, only to leave? Especially when it was so clear my family wanted nothing to do with him.  

Turning back to my cousins, I caught sight of Ryuu joining his brothers on the sand. Nitta and Fukui stood in a cluster of unfamiliar men, laughing easily, but Ryuu remained stiff, his demeanor cold and detached.  

Lex’s voice pulled me back.

“So... this is your new family,” he said, his disapproval plain.  

“Say what you need to say now,” I replied, folding my arms. “Tomorrow, everything changes.”  

After the wedding, any hint of wavering loyalty to the Morunagas would be dangerous—for me and for them.  

Anton frowned, his boyish features tight with tension, while Dario crossed his arms and stared past me, his expression dark.  

Bion sighed heavily, shaking his head as if resigning himself to the inevitable. But it was Dario who broke the silence.  

“We don’t trust him,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Ryuu Morunaga is dangerous, Bea. If he decides to hurt you, none of us will be able to stop him.”  

The words hit harder than I expected. Dario wasn’t prone to dramatics. His quiet intensity made his warning feel all the more real.  

Looking around at my cousins, I realized they had tried. They had fought against this marriage, probably as hard as I had. But like me, they’d been overruled.  

They couldn’t defy Giorgio Carbone. No one could.  

Forcing a small smile, I shrugged. “I’m tougher than I look. I survived growing up with you, didn’t I?”  

The attempt at humor didn’t land, but the tension between us eased slightly.  

My family had always been my anchor, even after I left for Palermo four years ago. When my father died, my cousins had shielded me from the fallout of his dangerous choices, ensuring I didn’t inherit the worst of his enemies.  

But this marriage was different. It wasn’t something they could protect me from.  

The Morunagas weren’t like the Carbones. Our family’s strength came from loyalty and unbreakable bonds, but theirs felt colder, clinical—built on power and fear.  

Ryuu, though, was still an enigma to me. He didn’t seem tied to his family in the same way. Ruthless in business, distant in demeanor—everything about him screamed control.  

I had to steel myself against that control. I wouldn’t become a woman broken under the weight of his power. I’d find a way to endure, no matter how much I doubted my strength.  

After all, I was Giorgio Carbone’s granddaughter. I knew how to fight.  

***

Point of View: Ryuu

I retreated into the background, letting the chatter of my brothers and cousins wash over me. If I had my way, I wouldn’t be here at all. Their drunken laughter grated on my nerves, as did their incessant boasting about things that didn’t matter.  

My gaze drifted to Beatrice. She stood with her cousins, her posture relaxed, her expression soft—nothing like the guarded, tense woman I’d seen around me.  

She was more at ease with them, probably because they’d been her real family these last four years. Giacomo Carbone wasn’t much of a father. His affection for Beatrice felt hollow, more performance than sincerity. His presence this week only served to highlight his failings.  

It hadn’t escaped my notice how thoroughly Beatrice had ignored him.  

She’d been quieter lately. The fire I’d glimpsed when we first met, her sharp defiance, had dulled into something more measured, more calculated. I suspected it was a survival tactic—one I understood all too well.  

But her silence carried weight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath her calm exterior, she was waiting, watching, planning.  

“You got lucky with this one,” a drunken voice slurred nearby.  

I turned, my eyes narrowing as one of my lesser cousins stumbled toward me, glass in hand. His gaze landed on Beatrice, his lips curling into a sleazy grin.  

“She’s gorgeous,” he said, his tone thick with alcohol. “How’d you manage that? Makes me want to steal her away.”  

My stare cut through him like a blade. The fool flinched, his bravado crumbling under the force of my disdain.  

Before I could speak, Nitta appeared at my side, his easy smirk firmly in place. 

“Careful,” he said, his voice light but laced with warning. “Ryuu doesn’t share well.”  

Fukui followed, chuckling. “She’d probably tear you apart before Ryuu even had the chance.”  

Their laughter rippled through the group, catching the attention of Beatrice and her cousins. Her gaze found mine across the beach, steady and unflinching.  

I held her stare, searching for a hint of vulnerability. Instead, all I saw was composure—fragile, but intact.  

She wasn’t ready for tomorrow. That much was clear.  

But she would have to be.  

The next morning, my father summoned me. His tone carried the gravity of a man who didn’t speak unless absolutely necessary.  

“Treat her with respect,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing in warning.  

It was an unusual directive from Gojou Morunaga, a man who valued strength above all else. Yet his words carried weight, as if Beatrice had already earned his favor.  

I didn’t understand it, but I intended to find out.