Chapter 21
Yuki
Thirty minutes ago, Augusto sent me a text, telling me to dress nice because we’re going out. I have no idea if we’re going to a function or visiting friends and family.
Glancing through all my clothes, I can’t decide on an outfit, and giving up, I send him a text.
Yuki: Where are we going?
I look at the few dresses I have and feel they might be too formal.
When my phone vibrates in my hand, I quickly unlock the device and check my messages.
Augusto: I’m taking you on a date.
Oh wow.
A smile creeps over my face, and there’s a burst of excitement in my chest. I’ve been cooped up in the house for the past three weeks because Augusto can’t find out who was behind the attack.
Not that I mind. I’ve been getting back into making pottery and have even tried my hand at Ikebana. It’s a traditional art form where you arrange flowers, branches, and other natural materials. I’ve seen videos on social media and thought it might be fun.
Glancing through my closet again, I decide to wear a cream dress, and rushing into the bathroom, I hold it up in front of me while looking at my reflection in the mirror. The skirt fans out and reaches to beneath my knees. It will look pretty with a pair of kitten heel pumps and a black belt.
My hair has grown, but not enough for me to do anything with it.
Going back into the bedroom, I lay the dress out on the bed before I take a shower. When I have a matching pair of underwear on, I sit down at my dressing table and get all my makeup products ready.
I’m still experimenting with what looks best on me, and not wanting to mess things up, I stick to a natural look but add wings at the sides of my eyes.
I swipe some lip gloss on and look at my reflection.
“Yuki?” Augusto calls right outside my door, and before I can reply, he comes in.
Freezing on the stool, I stare at him with wide eyes while his eyebrows almost fly into his hairline.
“Fuck.” His eyes drift over me, then he repeats, “Fuuccck.”
“You’re early,” I manage to say.
He doesn’t tear his heated gaze away from my body as he replies, “I sent you a text.”
My heart begins to thump faster against my ribs. “I’m almost ready.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “For the date or to take things to the next level.”
Seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes, I know he’s teasing, but the question has me inspecting my heart.
Am I ready?
I don’t know. Every time I think about having sex, I get super nervous.
I’ve been working hard not to be awkward when it comes to the romantic aspect of our marriage.
Feeling self-conscious, I get up and walk to the bed, noticing how Augusto’s eyes stay locked on me. He watches as I put on the dress, then comes closer to pull the zipper up for me.
Standing behind me, he brushes his palms up and down my arms while pressing a kiss to the side of my neck.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” His breath fans over my skin, causing goose bumps to appear.
“Every inch of you.” One of his hands snakes around my front and settles over my abdomen, right by the waistband of my panties.
My heart thunders and breaths rush over my lips while anticipation rushes through my veins.
Suddenly, he lets go of me and stalks to the door, his voice hoarse as he says, “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
I slap a hand over my racing heart while catching my breath.
I didn’t want him to pull away.
Once my heart rate is back to normal, I check my makeup and put on my shoes. I retrieve one of the new handbags, and getting my phone from the bathroom, I tuck it inside while I head downstairs.
I find Augusto standing in front of one of the paintings he put up for me, staring at the landscape. My heels tap on the tiles, and it draws his attention to me.
He holds his hand out, and I notice his eyes are dark with desire. As I place my palm in his, I revel in the way he looks at me, a smile forming on my face.
Without saying a word, he leads me through the sliding doors in the living room, and we follow a path to the driveway.
When I see a limousine, I can’t stop myself from grinning.
Augusto opens the door and waits for me to get in before he joins me.
As the limo begins to move, I say, “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“You’re welcome, my little shapeshifter.”
He doesn’t use the term of endearment a lot, but when he does, it warms my heart.
Picking up my hand from my lap, he rests my palm on his thigh before his thumb brushes over the diamond on my finger.
“Do you like your ring?”
I nod as I glance at his handsome face. “It’s very beautiful.”
Lifting his arm, he wraps it around my shoulders and pulls me closer to his side. He leans down and gives me a soft kiss, then asks, “How was your day?”
“Good. I made two pots.”
“I saw the flower arrangement in the kitchen. It looks like you’re getting the hang of it.”
“I killed six tulips before I got it right.”
He lets out a chuckle, his thumb rubbing up and down my bicep. It feels like he is casting a spell over me.
“Did you have a good day?” I ask, my voice soft so I don’t disturb the ambiance.
“No one died, so yes.”
Silence falls around us, and it feels as if the atmosphere turns magical. It’s just us, my racing heart, and the desire in Augusto’s eyes, which hasn’t lessened one bit.
The limo comes to a stop, and after helping me out, Augusto leads me into a building, and we take an elevator up to the sixtieth floor.
When we walk into a restaurant, my lips part as I gasp, my eyes locked on the beautiful view of New York.
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Vitale. Your table is by the window as you requested,” a man says.
As we follow him, I notice all the other tables are empty. Augusto pulls out my chair and waits for me to sit before taking the seat across from me.
“Is it just the two of us here tonight?” I ask.
“Yes. I wanted to enjoy the date with you and not worry about every single person walking through the doors.” Opening his menu, he asks, “What would you like to drink?”
“It feels like we should have champagne or something fancy.”
“How about a cocktail?” He lists a few, explaining what’s in them, before we decide I should try a cosmopolitan.
Augusto places the orders, getting whiskey for himself.
I stare at the skyline of the city I now live in, once again, thinking about how much my life has changed.
I still write letters I never get to send to Ryo, and tomorrow I’ll tell him how amazing this view is.
“What’s wrong?”
My eyes flit to Augusto, and seeing a worried frown on his forehead, I quickly shake my head. “Nothing.”
“You looked sad, Yuki. Don’t you like the restaurant? We can go somewhere else.”
“No, it’s not that. I love it.” I hesitate, but having learned to trust Augusto, I admit, “I was thinking about Ryo.”
“Do you have any way to contact him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know where he is. Father never told me anything about him.”
“I’m sorry, my love.” He lets out a heavy breath. “When I was in Tokyo, I had our hacker look for Ryo, and she didn’t find anything, so wherever your father has him, it’s off the grid.” Reaching across the table, he takes my hand. “I’ll call your father tomorrow and ask for information on Ryo.”
“No, don’t do that. Ryo will enter the Yakuza when he turns twenty-five. It’s just six more months. I don’t want you owing my father anything.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Yes. But thank you for wanting to help.” I smile at him, and when I see the server coming with our drinks, I say, “Let’s focus on us for the rest of the night.”
We give the server our food orders, and when we’re sipping on our drinks, I say, “The cosmopolitan was a good choice.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
I glance at the skyline again, thinking of Augusto calling me ‘my love.’ I swoon a little, a grin pulling at my mouth.
Noticing my smile, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”
My tongue darts out to swipe over my lips before I answer, “I liked it when you called me my love.” I clear my throat.
“And also, when you call me your little shapeshifter. It reminds me of a Japanese folktale, the Kitsune. One of the most famous tales is of a fox who disguises herself as a woman to gain influence in the imperial court.” Realizing I’m rambling, I let out a chuckle. “Sorry. Too much information.”
“Not at all.” Augusto gives me a reassuring smile. “I want to hear about your culture.” With his attention solely focused on me, he asks, “Teach me to say something in Japanese.”
“Konnichiwa. It means hello.” Augusto practices it a few times. “Onegaishimasu. Please.” I wait for him to say it, then continue, “Arigatō. Thank you.”
We continue practicing a few more words until our food arrives.
Augusto takes a bite of his dry-aged duck, and I enjoy my tempura-fried octopus.
I keep glancing between the skyline and my husband until we’re halfway done with our meals.
“Where did you learn to speak English?” he asks before taking a sip of water.
“I had a tutor who taught me English, German, Mandarin, and Hangul.”
His eyes widen. “You can speak five languages?”
I nod. “It was easy to learn and one of the few things I enjoyed while growing up.” I take the last bite of food and set down my utensils. After I’ve swallowed, I continue, “My tutor tried to reason with my father to allow me to attend university, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“You’re only twenty-two. Would you like to study further?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. A lot has changed for me this year. I think it would be too overwhelming.”
“If you ever change your mind, just let me know.”
A grateful smile graces my lips. “Okay.”
We talk about random topics until we’ve had dessert, and when dinner comes to an end, I let out a happy sigh.
“Thank you for the lovely date,” I say as I stand up. “I enjoyed it.”
“Will you go on another date with me next week?” Augusto asks, his tone playful as he takes hold of my hand and leads me to the exit.
“Yes.”
“And the week after?”
“Yes.”
“And every week after that?”
I let out a burst of laughter. “Yes.”
Lifting my hand, he presses a kiss to the back of it. “I enjoyed it too and want to make it a weekly thing for us. To this day, my parents go out for dinner once a week.”
“I’d like that very much.”
As we take the elevator down to the first floor, I realize this moment is the happiest I’ve ever been.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m ready.”