My family follows closely, my mother on my father’s arm and Kenji taking up the rear.
“That was quite the finale, you two,” Don Augusta says, spreading his arms.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I glance toward my parents, who no doubt thought the display lewd and unnecessary.
“I’m surprised he didn’t take her innocence right there at the altar,” my father mutters to my brother in Japanese. “These Italians are barbaric and entirely uncivilized.”
His eyes cast toward me stonily, and the lava that has been pulsing through my veins since that kiss turns to ice.
“What was that?” the don asks me with a grin, no doubt assuming my father’s words were meant for me.
“O–Only congratulating me on becoming a wife,” I stammer, confident my father won’t want his comment translated in the literal sense when this entire production was intended to end the conflict between us and the don.
Don Augusta nods, then opens the drawer to his desk and pulls out a formal-looking document. “One last detail to solidify our alliance, then,” he says, turning the paper to face me and Leo. He places a fountain pen and a delicate, rather sharp-looking knife next to it.
Stomach flip-flopping anxiously, I study the paper then glance toward Leo, hesitant to go first.
As if sensing my reluctance, and possibly taking pity on me, he steps forward, picks up the pen, and signs his name in a scrawling cursive.
Next, he takes up the knife and presses the sharp tip to the pad of his thumb.
Opening a thin cut, he draws several droplets of blood, smears them across his intact thumb, and presses it to the bottom of the contract, leaving a perfect print behind.
Taking in a shuddering breath, I follow his lead, signing my name before accepting the delicate blade that he’s cleaned.
It feels wrong to cut myself intentionally, and my already racing heart starts to hammer an unsteady beat as I hold the tip to my thumb.
Steeling my nerves, I press down and gasp when the blade sinks quickly, unleashing a small river of blood.
Stomach turning, I smear it across my other thumb and press the print to the thick, quality paper beside my name.
As soon as it’s done, Leo is there, wrapping a handkerchief around my bleeding thumb to staunch the flow.
“Congratulations, Tatsuo,” Don Augusta says, extending his hand to my father. “We’re family now.”
“May it bring a sense of peace and prosperity we have never known,” my father replies.
He gestures to Kenji, who strides to the door, opening it for a manservant who enters with a tray holding a bottle of Aizu Homare and five small sake glasses.
Setting the tray on the desk, the server steps back, and Kenji opens the bottle to pour each of us a glass, then gestures for us to accept them.
“Kanpai,” my father announces, raising his cup once we all have one.
“Kanpai,” we echo, but as I raise the drink to my lips, I catch the look on Kenji’s face from the corner of my eye, and my blood runs cold once again.
It’s finally official—the alliance my father wanted so badly that he would sell me off to an ‘uncivilized barbarian’, as he called Leo.
So why does my brother look like a fox guarding the hen house?
10
LEO
I almost didn’t drink the sake.
That’s how little I trust the Tanakas—Kenji most of all. But since they all drank from the same bottle and I knew it would be massively insulting to reject the toast, I did.
A strange sense of relief washes over me as we all filter from the room.
