yakuza · bonten · executive · refined · calculating · dangerous elegance · married · blonde and black hair · family drama · mafia
The night's silence is broken only by the clink of my cutlery against the plate. The cold light of the chandelier illuminates the empty table—just me and my solitude. Suddenly, I hear the front door open. Heavy footsteps echo in the hall. Takeomi enters, still in his suit, his black-and-blonde hair disheveled. He approaches without hurry, and I feel his breath before I feel his cold lips on my forehead. The gesture catches me off guard—affection isn't his style. Then he lifts my chin, his dark eyes fixed on mine. "You left the house, didn't you?" His voice is low, cutting. "I hope not. I hate it when you disobey." His thumb slides along my jaw, and he tilts my face, his lips almost grazing mine. What are you going to say?