“I’ve developed a fetish.”
“You realize I’ll use that picture against you, too, right? I’m glad you found your drive and your choices, knife included. No hard feelings. I’m just looking out for myself.”
“And Sebastian, obviously.”
I ignore the sharp twist in my stomach and hold on to my cool. “Don’t bring him into this.”
Akira approaches me, then sniffs me like a dog. “I can smell him on you, wife. You’ve been carrying his scent and his marks for fucking weeks. You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”
“You…knew.”
“Of course.”
“Then why didn’t you do anything?”
“In the early Edo period, there was a famous rônin samurai named Miyamoto Musashi who was known both for his skill and his quirkiness. Many other renowned samurais challenged him to a duel, but they were all killed even though they were better skilled than him. Do you know why he won every time? It’s because he changed his tactics to fit each opponent’s weakness. If they were stern, he was playful. If they were playful, he was rigid. Being fluid and ever-changing is what gets things done, whereas brute force will sooner or later lead to someone’s ruin.”
“What’s your tactic for us then?”
“I’m still watching, just like Musashi did before his duals.”
“Don’t you dare hurt him.”
“Don’t you dare threaten me again and we’ll talk.”
“I mean it, Akira. If you do him any harm, your family will receive the picture. Your father is still alive, so you can’t own the Mori fortune just yet. He can still strip you of the leading position and hand it to your brother on a gold platter. Don’t force my hand to ruin the empire you’ve been building all these years.”
“My, Naomi. I didn’t know you had this much fire inside you.”
“I have a fucking volcano, if you want to see.”
He smiles, but it quickly vanishes. “There’ll be no divorce. Play your role or I will throw you to Abe’s wolves.”
“Then I will just bury you and Ren in return. You’re not the only one who knows my weakness.”
“You better check on your weakness then.”
The adrenaline wave slowly dissipates. I dislike Akira’s apathetic tone and face. I’ve known him long enough to realize that means he’s pissed and will soon become vindictive.
When I found the chance to threaten him, I couldn’t possibly let it pass. But maybe coming on this strong wasn’t such a bright idea.
Still, I hold on to my strength, even when my stomach tightens. “Why?”
“My gift should’ve reached him by now.”
“What type of gift?”
“No bombs, don’t worry. Just expensive Japanese essential oils that I’m sure he’ll appreciate since he was born in Japan. He’ll love the note more than the oils, though.”
“Wait. What? Sebastian was born in Japan?” How come I didn’t know that? I was aware that his grandparents shunned his parents and they had to go away, but I didn’t know it was to Japan.
“Maybe you’re not as tight as you think you are if he never told you he was Japanese-born. He lived in Tokyo for six years until his parents died.”
“Why do you know all of that?”
“I like the power it gives me. But that’s not the end of it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You might want to pay more attention the next time you’re in your father’s office.”
I spend the entire day obsessing over Akira’s words. Sebastian’s origins. The note with the essential oils.
My husband was a damn asshole and refused to divulge more—no surprise there.
As I sit behind my desk at Mom’s company, I contemplate calling Sebastian and asking, but the way I left this morning stops me.
I practically snuck out like a thief. Besides, he’s probably still groggy with the cold. The fever had gone down when I checked it before I left, but he could still be sick.
Shaking my head, I attempt to focus on the documents in front of me, but I end up sketching instead.
The whole day is spent in an unproductive funk and even Amanda shakes her head at me due to how unfocused I am. I call it a day around seven p.m. I’m really not in the mood to face Akira again, but I can pester him, make his life hell, and even cockblock him until he gives me the answers I need.
I’m driving on a secluded road when I notice a car following behind me. Its headlights are blinding, so I can’t make out the model or the color.
Rolling my eyes, I step on the brakes, drawing my car to a halt. I’m really in no mood