Chapter 12
Yuki
As the celebration progresses, I stay near Augusto so I don’t give him a reason to get angry with me.
When his plate is empty again, I take it from him and load more of the finger foods for him to eat. As I offer the plate to him, his eyes flick to my face.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I will.”
He doesn’t take the plate from me but instead orders, “Eat now.”
Kuso. I’ve angered him.
A tremble moves through my body as I pick up a cracker with smoked salmon. When I place it in my mouth, Augusto watches as I chew. Feeling very uncomfortable, I lower my eyes to the plate.
The delicious taste of the salmon bursts over my tongue, and my eyes almost drift shut from how good it is.
“Eat everything on the plate,” Augusto orders.
As I carry out the order, my stomach rumbles, and I begin to worry that all the rich food is going to make me sick. For the past three months, I’ve lived on steamed rice. Well, except for the few times I was able to steal something during a cooking lesson.
Against my better judgment, I empty the plate. A server comes to take it from me, then Augusto hands me a glass of champagne.
I’ve already had one during the toasts, and it tasted sweet and bubbly. Much better than the alcohol I was always given at clubs and restaurants when I used to pretend to be Ryo.
Suddenly, my eyes lock on another familiar face, and fear slithers down my spine when I remember how he beat me for touching Gianna.
“Come.” Augusto takes hold of my arm, but his grip isn’t too tight as he pulls me closer to Enzo.
My fingers clench around the stem of the flute, and as we stop in front of Enzo, the glass shatters in my hand.
“Fuck!” Augusto curses loudly.
I jump with fright, and panicking, my breaths come fast.
I’m hauled into the house, and when we reach a restroom, my hand is shoved under the cold water faucet. I watch as my blood cicles down the drain while a cold sweat beads on my forehead.
“Is she okay?” I hear Samantha ask.
Augusto inspects my hand, then he replies in a brisk tone, “The cut doesn’t look deep. Can you bring me a Band-Aid, please?”
He pats my hand dry with a towel, then his eyes flick to mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hoping it will ease his anger.
Samantha comes rushing back into the restroom, and I watch as Augusto sticks the Band-Aid over the cut between my thumb and pointer finger.
The wedding ring draws my attention, and I stare at the sparkling diamond until Samantha brushes her hand up and down my back.
“Let’s get back to the party.”
I nod, but Augusto takes hold of my arm again. “Mom, can you tell Enzo I want to see him?”
Samantha nods, and when she leaves, Augusto leads me to a living room. When Enzo comes in via the open sliding doors, my body tenses even more.
There’s a weird expression on his face when he stops a few steps away from me.
“Jesus,” he whispers, his tone tense, then he shakes his head.
Should I apologize to him? Is that what they expect of me?
I glance down at the floor, and just as I’m about to kneel, Enzo says, “I didn’t know you were a woman. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you.”
What?
My eyes snap to his again, and it’s only then that I see the regret.
Enzo stares at me, and I see shock flashing over his features. “I can’t believe you’re the same person. You look so different. In a good way, of course.”
I nod, not knowing if that’s something I should thank him for.
Enzo exhales a heavy breath and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to apologize.”
I nod again, then lower my eyes to the floor.
“Let’s go.” Augusto’s voice is tense as he nudges me toward the sliding doors. When we join the other guests, he says, “We’re going to head home. Thank you for celebrating with us.”
No!
An icy fear coats my skin until I begin to shiver.
I don’t want to be alone with Augusto.
As his family members and friends say goodbye, I can’t force a single word over my lips.
Knowing we’ll consummate this marriage when we get to Augusto’s house makes the terror return tenfold. The little bit I’ve managed to relax because of the friendly women vanishes.
With a nudge against my back, Augusto indicates for me to walk, and like a sheep led to slaughter, I obey.
All the heavy and destructive emotions return as I climb into the backseat beside Augusto.
My heartbeat increases as we drive away from the celebration, and as silence falls between us, the air begins to tense until it feels like it’s vibrating against my skin.
The drive is way too short, and as we pull up to another mansion, I don’t pay any attention to it.
I’m too distressed to care about what my future home looks like.
We get out of the SUV, and my heart keeps beating faster as I follow Augusto inside. My breaths are audible as he switches on the lights, and when he turns to face me, my vision goes spotty.
“Now that we’re alone…”
I don’t hear anything else as my legs give way.
Augusto
I dart forward as Yuki goes down and catch her before she can hit the floor.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I snap angrily as I lift her into my arms.
Unlike the last time I carried her, she now weighs next to nothing.
I hurry into the living room and lay her down on the couch.
The entire day, Yuki’s been tense, but whenever I tried to give her some space, she stuck close to me.
I crouch beside the couch and stare at her pale face.
Living with the guilt of hurting a woman is one thing, but seeing the fear in her eyes and having her flinch every time I move is pure hell.
When she was dragged into the hall where we said our vows, it took all my self-control not to kill Yutaro Kano for manhandling her.
Tanaka didn’t even bother attending the wedding.
Just as well.
My eyes drift over the white silk covering her skinny body.
She needs to pick up weight.
Yuki lets out a soft groan before her lashes flutter, and as her eyes open, I stare at her beautiful face until her sight focuses on me.
“Before you panic. We are not consummating the marriage tonight,” I say to set her at ease. “We’ll get to know each other and take things from there.”
The fear and apprehension she displays around me return to her brown eyes as she slowly sits up. She rubs her hands over her upper arms as if she’s cold, and it has me taking off my jacket. When I drape it around her shoulders, confusion flutters over her face.
“Now that we’re alone, I want to apologize to you,” I say, and just like earlier when Enzo said he was sorry, she looks shocked out of her mind as she stares at me.
“If I had known you were a woman, I wouldn’t have hit you.
I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, and I hope to earn your forgiveness. ”
When she keeps quiet, I rise to my full height again and take a seat on one of the other couches.
I stare at her for a long moment while I wait to see if she wants to reply to what I said.
When a minute passes, and it’s clear she isn’t going to say anything, I mention, “I ordered Japanese art and decorations. I thought that if you had something familiar in the house, maybe it would help this place feel a little more like home.”
Again, shock tightens her features, and as her lips part, she lowers her head, but not before I see her chin quiver.
All this woman has known from me is violence, and wanting to show her I’m not a monster, I get up and take a seat beside her.
Yuki flinches when I place my arm around her shoulders, then I feel her body starting to tremble.
Keeping my voice gentle, I say, “We’ve had a very rocky start, but I want you to know, I’ll never hit you again.”
She keeps her head lowered, and I get the impression she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
It’s going to take time.
Pulling away from her, I climb to my feet again. “Let me show you where everything is. I’m sure you want to get out of that dress.”
Yuki gets up, her movements tense as if she’s waiting for me to pounce on her.
Knowing nothing I say will help, I gesture at the remote lying on the coffee table. “Do you want me to show you how the TV works?”
She shakes her head while slipping my jacket off and holding it out to me.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“No.”
I take it from her and walk toward the kitchen. “I have a housekeeper who comes in three times a week to clean. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“I can do the washing and ironing,” Yuki says.
I shake my head. “You don’t have to. I want you to take time to heal after all the shit you’ve been through.”
We step into the kitchen, and I open one cupboard after another, showing Yuki what’s in each one.
“If there’s anything you want, just buy it.”
She wraps her arms around her middle and begins to nibble on the inside of her cheek.
Fuck. Of course.
I take my wallet out of my pocket and remove one of my cards. Holding it out to her, I say, “Just charge everything to this credit card.”
Yuki looks downright startled as she stares at my hand.
“Take it.”
Her hand trembles as she carries out the order.
“Come.” I walk through the rest of the house, and when I reach the guest room, I say, “This will be your bedroom.” I gesture to the walk-in closet. “There’s your luggage.”
She nods as she takes in the bedding, its pattern inspired by traditional ink wash art.
Weirdly, I feel nervous as I ask, “Are you okay with the temple and cherry blossoms design?”
Yuki’s eyes flit to my face. “Yes. Thank you.”
Tilting my head, I say, “If you want to talk to me, come find me. Until then, I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible, because I get the feeling I’m the last person you want to see right now.”
Yuki’s eyebrows draw together, but I can’t read her expression as she says, “You’re going to leave me alone?”
I nod while I let out a sigh. “All the stuff I’ve ordered for you is in the boxes in the garage. Use whatever you want and throw away what you don’t like.”
I turn to leave but pause and pull my phone out. “I’ll be at work a lot. Take my number in case something happens, and you need to get a hold of me.”
“I don’t have a phone.” She swallows hard before adding, “You took it from me at the airfield.”
Jesus.
Intense remorse slaps me upside the head as I’m once again reminded of the hell I inflicted on this woman.
“I’ll get you a phone tomorrow.” I walk to the doorway and stop again to look at Yuki. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you.”
Leaving, I head to my bedroom on the third floor. I chose this house because it’s similar to my parents’ place.
After shutting the door behind me, I sit down on the chaise, which is situated to the right of my bed, and let out a heavy sigh.
Rubbing my fingers over my forehead, the events of the day replay in my mind.
It doesn’t feel like I got married.
I stare at my suit jacket for a moment before I pull the piece of paper from the inner breast pocket. My eyes drift over the words and numbers, and learning that Yuki is only twenty-two years old, another sigh escapes me.
Jesus, she’s only a year older than Rosie.
Just to punish myself, I imagine someone torturing Rosie and forcing her to marry the bastard.
Anger burns through my chest, and in this moment, I hate myself.
You’ll do everything in your power to make things better for Yuki.