August 6th, 2025
At the parking lot - 8:16 PM
The car door shut with a soft thud that sounded far louder to Leo than it should have. It echoed through his skull like the snap of a bone. His footsteps had been heavy walking back to the car, like he was dragging an invisible coffin.
Inside the vehicle, the air was stale, suffocating, and still tainted with Ruth's perfume - the scent that once intoxicated him, now repulsed him.
She didn't even look up from her phone.
Leo sat down, his movements stiff, mechanical. His hands trembled as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the stack of papers - the damn files she had sent him back for.
He handed them to her in silence.
Not a single word.
Not even the insult he wanted to throw, not the rage boiling in his lungs.
Ruth took the files with one hand, eyes still fixed on her screen. Then she looked at him.
Not with love.
Not with concern.
But with the emotionless, hollow stare of a woman bored with the man next to her.
"What are you waiting for? Let's go."
Her tone was sharp, dry. Unapologetic. Unaware.
Leo gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned pale.
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The engine roared to life, and they sped away.
But inside that vehicle, a storm was brewing.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to accuse her, to slap the damn truth into her face.
But he couldn't.
Because the moment he looked at her, he saw something that terrified him more than any affair - her indifference.
Back at the Kawasaki Mansion - 8:34 PM
Tension wrapped around the grand room like smoke.
Lionel Kawasaki sat in the middle of it, one hand on his chin, the other tapping the armrest. His eyes were distant, almost vacant, lost in the spiral of Daigo's recent confession.
Christine Himura, elegant as ever but fierce and rattled, stood toe-to-toe with Koharu Kawasaki, who had discarded her usual calm demeanor.
"Your daughter treats my son like a goddamn accessory!" Koharu snapped, voice rising. "Like he's just a chauffeur. She never even holds his hand in public!"
"She's not cold!" Christine shouted back. "She's just under pressure! She has a company to run, responsibilities, expectations you couldn't even begin to understand!"
"Bullshit. You didn't raise her to be this emotionless! Or did you?"
Christine stepped forward. "Watch what you say about my daughter."
Their husbands remained seated.
Marko swirled a glass of whiskey in silence, face unreadable.
Lionel, however, was unraveling on the inside.
His mind echoed Daigo's words:
"Ian Everhart and Ruth… they were together in college. Not just friends. Sweethearts. Deeply in love. Until something happened and it ended."
"Everhart? From where?" Lionel had asked.
"Came from the States. I don't know the exact place. New York? Chicago? Somewhere like that. But he lived in Tokyo during university."
His thoughts were interrupted by the shrill buzz of his phone.
Leo calling.
Lionel answered with a sharp, "Hello."
His son's voice came through - shaky. Broken.
"Dad, you were right… Ruth might be cheating on me. With some lowlife guy."
Lionel froze.
He could hear the crack in Leo's voice. The sobs trying to break free. The pain cutting through every syllable.
He stood up abruptly.
"Quiet!" he barked.
The women froze mid-argument.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"With her. At the airport. We're flying to the United Staes. I can't leave her, Dad. I have to see it for myself. I have to watch her. I need to know if she's really cheating on me."
Lionel breathed deeply. "Okay, son. Do that. Stay with her. Keep your eyes open."
A beat.
"And if you can, collect proof. Something solid. Just in case… you both end up divorcing."
Silence.
Then Leo whispered, "Okay, Dad."
Lionel hung up.
Christine was already back on the offensive. "What was that about?"
"None of your business," he replied coldly.
Then he left the room.
Inside Lionel and Koharu's Bedroom
The walk down the hall felt like the march of a man condemned.
Inside his room, the door closed with a finality that was absolute.
But even behind thick wood, he could still hear the echoes of the arguing women. Petty, emotional, naive.
He ignored them.
He went straight to his cabinet.
Past the suits. Past the ties. Past the hollow symbols of wealth and success.
His fingers moved with certainty.
He pulled out a worn leather case, one he hadn't touched in years.
Opened it.
There, under aged velvet, sat a .45-caliber Glock, gleaming like a viper in the dark.
He picked it up.
Checked the clip.
Full.
Loaded.
Ready.
His eyes narrowed.
So Ian Everhart had come back.
So Ian Everhart thought he could steal what belonged to the Kawasaki family?
Ruth and Leo, through their marriage, was supposed to solidify the Kawasaki legacy. The business. The alliances. The future.
Ian Everhart was a crack in that legacy.
A poison from the past.
A threat.
Lionel tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers.
Then, he opened the drawer and pulled out a burner phone.
Dialed a number.
A deep voice answered, "Yes, Kawasaki-sama?"
"Find anything related to this Ian Everhart man. Tail him. Track him. And if he goes near Ruth again… let me know first. I want to deal with it personally."
"Understood."
The line cut.
Lionel stood in the shadows of his room, the city lights reflecting off his cold eyes.
His heart was steady.
His breath calm.
And somewhere beneath the ground, the devil smiled.