Chapter 10 Leo
LEO
I almost didn’t drink the sake.
That’s how little I trust the Tanakas—Kenji most of all. But since they all drank from the same bottle and I knew it would be massively insulting to reject the toast, I did.
A strange sense of relief washes over me as we all filter from the room.
It’s likely because I’ve been fighting this alliance for so long and now it’s done.
There’s nothing more that I can do.
We’ll just have to wait and see how well the Tanaka-kai can play with friends when that’s what they’ve decided we are.
I still don’t trust it, but there’s a sense of resolution that comes with having that decision taken out of my hands.
I just hope my father’s instincts are better than mine.
After he’s spent a lifetime fighting with Tatsuo, I would hope they are.
“Are you still bleeding?” I ask Sora, nodding toward her handkerchief-wrapped thumb.
She cut deeper than necessary—deeper than I think she intended, too.
“I think I’m alright,” she says, slowing to carefully peel back the stained cloth.
Blood immediately colors the thin line of her cut, but it’s not coming as quickly now.
“Let’s get you a Band-Aid,” I say, pressing my palm to the small of her back and gesturing toward the bathroom I had her trapped in just last night.
Her breath catches, the sound sending an electric current from my brain straight to my cock.
It seems like everything she’s done since our almost-kiss has driven me wild.
And when we actually kissed for the first time? The spark behind it actually took me by surprise.
I would be sorely tempted to finish what we started last night, Sora up against the bathroom door, her legs wrapped around me… But now that there’s no longer an engagement to break off, I need to be on my best behavior—at least for the rest of the day.
The don made this alliance happen. I won’t be the one to destroy it.
Stooping in front of the sink, I pull out one of the vanity drawers and collect the small first aid kit we keep there. “Let me see,” I say, setting the kit open on the counter and tearing the corner of a small antibiotic ointment packet.
Sora extends her hand palm up, her soft skin and long, thin fingers making her hand look delicate.
It fits in the palm of my hand as I cup it and spread the ointment across her thumb.
Then I unwrap a Band-Aid and carefully place it over the cut.
“Good as new,” I say with a quick smile, tossing the extra bits into the trash.
“Thank you,” she says, her onyx eyes pulling me in.
“You’re welcome.”
Again, that crackling electricity ignites between us, warming the temperature of the room and consuming its oxygen.
There’s a shine to Sora’s eye that might just be inviting, and it would be so easy to just skip ahead to the good part.
Tempting.
But as surprising as it might be, I don’t want to ruin this day for Sora.
She and her mother put a considerable amount of effort into the details and ensuring everything would run smoothly.
Derailing it now seems like it would be a bad first step into marriage.
“Shall we?” I suggest, gesturing toward the door. “I think it’s time we make our grand entrance.”
Sora gives a breathy laugh. “You’re right,” she agrees, turning quickly to lead the way.
And I might be imagining it, but I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of disappointment on her face.
But I don’t have much time to read into it as we reach the great room, where the master of ceremonies announces our entrance into society as man and wife.
Applause echoes around the marble-gilded room as we make our way to the sweetheart table for dinner.
The food comes out as soon as I’ve thanked the guests for coming to witness the momentous occasion, then we settle in to eat.
It’s the only moment in the evening that we get to catch our breath, and it’s gone in the blink of an eye as the wedding moves on to toasts and dessert as Sora and I cut a massive, five-tiered white almond cake with buttercream frosting and decadent flowers cascading down one side.
The first dance quickly follows, and since Sora and I have been intentionally kept apart because of my antics, we haven’t practiced together at all.
I don’t even know what song she picked.
But when the first haunting notes on the violin begin to play, they echo deep within my soul.
Taking her in my arms, I give her a ballroom frame, and she fits perfectly, her hands resting lightly in my palm and on my shoulder.
She tilts her head back, elongating her neck for the perfect posture of a waltz, and when the rest of the band joins in, I start to guide her around the dance floor.
“What song is this?” I ask, mesmerized by the ethereal feeling of it that somehow matches Sora’s grace like it was made for her.
“‘A Ti Korita Vu,’” she says, her lips curving into a soft smile. “You like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s one of the few things I picked personally for today. It’s one of my favorites.”
Something deep inside me squeezes, knowing that this song would be the one she wanted to dance to on her wedding day.
Heat surges through my veins, and I look down at my new bride as if seeing her for the first time, suddenly intensely aware of the way our bodies press together, moving in perfect synchronicity across the dance floor.
She’s a beautiful dancer.
And every moment I’m near her, I want her more.
When our song wraps up, others join us on the dance floor, and the celebration goes late into the night.
It ends with a finale of fireworks set off for everyone to view from the terrace, and when I finally lead Sora away from the reception to my wing of the house, I’m more than ready to be alone with her.
I might not have agreed with this wedding.
I don’t believe in this alliance. But Sora is a singularly beautiful woman.
The fire in her has captured my interest in a way I never thought possible, and tonight, she’s my wife.
All the tension that’s been building between us since the day we met feels as though it’s on the cusp of exploding as I guide her to our room, her hand resting lightly in the crook of my elbow.
She’s quiet, her eyes focused ahead when I glance at her from the corner of my eye, and the energy rolling off her in waves feels nervous.
“This is us,” I say as my assigned guards pull open the double doors, granting us entrance.
They close behind us with a heavy click, leaving us completely alone.
Sora’s eyes widen as she takes in the spacious suite.
It’s decorated in the modern style, with clean lines and simple white against dark grays and black.
My father’s the one who prefers the classical European look that the rest of the house has been styled in, but these two thousand square feet are mine to do with as I please.
“I didn’t expect it to be so… big,” she says, running her hand along the yellow pine dresser.
I chuckle. “Any excuse to ensure my family doesn’t get too close,” I joke darkly.
Sora casts me a questioning glance. “You all live in the same place, but you’re not close?” she asks, her question diving deep immediately, which she seems prone to.
“I suppose I’m close with my brothers. The don is something of a… unifying force.” Trauma bonding might be what a psychologist would call it.
We all survived his upbringing together, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m friends with any of my brothers—except Miko—even if I would do anything for them.
Sora nods, as if understanding the unspoken undercurrent to my response. “The don,” she echoes, subtly noting how I didn’t call him ‘my father’. I haven’t called him that out loud in a very long time.
Clearing my throat, I nod toward her dress, ready to change topics before she peers too deeply into the psychological aftermath of my upbringing. “Do you need help getting out of that?”
Sora’s fingers reach instinctually for the nape of her neck, and she gives a sharp nod, suddenly nervous again.
I suspect she was asking questions about my family to delay her anxiousness, just like I deflected them to avoid diving too deeply.
“Here.” Striding across the room, I step deftly behind her as she slides the comb of her veil out of her thick locks.
Silk buttons run the length of her spine, disappearing beneath the elegant kimono belt.
“This looks more like a deathtrap than a dress from back here. How are you supposed to take this off without an extra pair of hands?” I ask, starting from the top and slipping the buttons loose from their tight keeps.
Sora gives a breathy laugh. “I think that might be the point.”
Like she’s a present wrapped especially for me.
My cock twitches at the thought. Politics aside, Sora might just be the most valuable gift I’ve ever received.
When I think of it like that, I’m less inclined to hate the Tanaka family, because she truly is the most captivating woman I’ve ever met—not just because she’s beautiful but because she’s intriguing, intelligent, elegant, and now she’s mine.
Her hands find the ends to her kimono belt, untying it with a precision that only accentuates her nerves, and when my fingers reach the buttons at the base of her spine, a shiver ripples through her as she starts to tremble.
“Are you scared of me, Princess?” I ask as I release the last of her buttons and slide my fingers beneath the delicate lace at her shoulders.
“No,” she breathes, even as goosebumps erupt across the back of her neck.
They make me want to press my lips to her soft skin, and I step closer as I guide the intricate fabric down her arms.
“Then why are you quivering?” I murmur, leaning close so my lips brush her ear.
As the dress slips free, pooling at her feet with a hushed whisper, Sora’s perfect body is suddenly laid bare for me.
Her modest breasts are pert, her nipples puckering, and as she sucks in a ragged breath, they rise invitingly.
“I’ve… never done this before,” she says, glancing nervously over her shoulder at me.
“Done what?” I ask, softly trapping her chin between my finger and thumb.
“Been with a man. I’ve never even been kissed before today.”
At the start of our negotiations, Tatsuo had assured my father that Sora’s virginity was still intact, but hearing her say it turns me on more than I thought it might, and the vulnerability in her dark eyes is shockingly attractive.
Intense desire surges through me, making my already painful erection throb with anticipation.
I’ve fucked countless women in my life—even lost my virginity when I was younger than Sora.
But I can’t think of a single time I’ve wanted a woman more than I want my wife right now.
“Don’t worry, Cattiva,” I murmur, my face mere inches from hers. “I’ll make your first time special.”
Closing the distance, I claim her lips, and my body ignites with blazing force.