I might not have the liberty to openly defy the don, but I’ll be damned if I just sit back, shut up, and let my father strap me with a wife I don’t want.
I’m half convinced he’s doing this to teach me a lesson.
I know he hates how I’ve smeared my family name, earning a reputation as a playboy with no ambition.
But staying single is the only way I’ve managed to postpone my birthright for this long.
The gravel crunches beneath our feet once more as Sora and I make it to the far side of the bridge and start to wind past trees along the garden path.
Even in the early spring, the space is full of serene greenery, and I wonder how much it must cost to maintain this little Japanese paradise thatOyabunTatsuo Tanaka has cultivated in the middle of Chicago’s bustling cityscape.
It, along with the koi pond that he must have to heat throughout the winter to keep the fish alive, is just another example of the Tanaka family’s spectacular façade.
They exude wealth and power.
They hide behind the integrity of their Japanese lineage, the deep-rooted traditions of honor that the Yakuza was built upon, but I don’t trust the Tanakas.
Their morals are paper thin, their word as flimsy as a moth’s wing. And their Zen garden doesn’t make them any less treacherous.
“Do you hold such disdain for all arranged marriages, Chiaroscuro-san, or just this one?” Sora’s unexpected question shatters my spiraling thoughts, catching me off guard.
It’s more direct than I thought she would dare to be and has enough bite to prove she has venom.
“Does it matter?” I ask.
Sora stops, forcing me to do the same, and I turn to face her on instinct.
As soon as I meet her eyes, I know I’ve made a mistake—because they captivate me instantly.
Their rare color is closer to onyx than brown, the deep hue drawing me in like a black mirror until I can’t seem to look away.
The gleam of mercury in them hints at a higher intelligence than I gave her credit for, and though she’s considerably younger than me at just eighteen, with one glance, I can tell her head is far from empty.
“It matters to me,” she says. “You might not care to know who I am, but I would rather enter this arrangement knowing the kind of man I’m supposed to live with for the rest of my life.”
Her chin lifts slightly, just a hint of defiance, though her tone is carefully schooled into polite respect.
I can’t deny that Sora is the picture of feminine beauty, her sky-blue silk wrap dress modest but flattering to her slim figure, her long, dark hair pulled softly away from her face in a knot that dares me to undo it.
Until now, her glances were demure, even shy.
But as she drops the small talk, I suddenly get the sense that beneath her mask of gentility is an iron will.
And despite my determination not to let my guard down, a surge of interest ignites low in my belly.
Yes, she’s gorgeous—and most likely untouched, which most men in my position would lose their mind over the opportunity to claim for themselves.
If her last name were anything but Tanaka, I might even be tempted.
But I told myself I wouldn’t let a pretty face fool me into dropping my guard. I just hadn’t expected Sora to be willful too—a far greater temptation for me to guard against.
I’ll have to get more aggressive if I’m going to end this before it goes too far.
“I suppose both,” I state, taking a half step closer to put our height difference to better use.
Sora has to crane her neck to look up at me now, and her eyes narrow, her lids sinking almost seductively as she works to shield her eyes from the sun without backing down. “Why?” she demands.
“I don’t need a wife,” I state coldly. “Plenty of women are more than willing to warm my bed. I have a full staff to manage myhouse, four brothers to entertain me when I want it, and an empire to keep me busy. I see no benefit to letting a viper into my home. I’m of the opinion that when you see a snake where it doesn’t belong, you cut off its head before it can bite someone.”
