I sat on the edge of my bed, my face buried in my hands, tears dripping onto my silk pajamas. My head still hurt, but not from the hangover this time. My chest felt heavy, my throat tight. Everything was spinning again, only this time it wasn't the alcohol.
The door creaked open. "Rose?" Maria's voice filled the room.
I looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe, her fiery red hair pulled into a lazy bun, arms crossed, looking like she just stepped off a magazine cover. She walked in slowly, that confident strut that said I have my life together, unlike you.
"I can't do it," I said, my voice cracking. "I can't marry that boring, grumpy man!"
Maria sighed and sat beside me on the bed, her hand rubbing my back gently. "You're still young, Rose. Dad's just trying to—"
"Control my entire life?" I snapped, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "If Mom were here, she wouldn't have allowed this."
Maria went quiet for a second. Her expression softened. "Maybe not," she said quietly, "but Shinpei isn't that bad. So what if he's boring and never smiles... and cold?"
I turned to her with wet eyes. "Then you marry him."
Maria let out a small laugh. "Please. I contribute more to the family than you do. I sacrificed a lot for this family and I'd do it again."
I gasped dramatically. "I do contribute!"
She raised a perfect eyebrow. "Really? You can't even hold a gun straight, Rose. All you do is party, go on trips, shop with your rich friends, and talk to your two and a half million followers on Instagram."
"That's work! I'm an influencer," I said, clutching my chest in fake offense.
Maria rolled her eyes. "Right. So if this marriage is what you can contribute, maybe just go ahead and do it. Consider it… community service."
I groaned, falling back on my bed, throwing a pillow over my face. "I hate you."
Maria laughed and flicked my foot. "You'll live, drama queen."
"I'm serious," I said through the pillow. "I'd rather eat shit than marry him."
"Good luck telling that to Dad, you're lucky you're not marrying an eighty year old man instead" she said, getting up. "Just don't cry too much, your macara's expensive. Why do you wear mascara to sleep by the way?"
"It makes me feel sexy." I threw the pillow at her, but she was already halfway out the door.
I sighed.
"Maybe it won't be that bad" I said to myself.
***
The Ajiro mansion was quiet, except for the balcony. Thomas leaned against the marble counter, his shirt half-tucked, tie undone, that usual lazy grin on his face.
"She's okay, you know," Thomas said, swirling the drink in his glass. "Rose. I've known her since we were kids. Sure, she's dramatic, talks too much, cries too easily, carefree and all of that but she's harmless. She'll probably bring some light into that dark, boring cave you call a life."
Shinpei looked up from the file he was reading, his dark eyes flat. "You talk too much, Thomas."
Thomas smirked. "And you don't talk enough. It's like your mouth comes with a subscription plan."
Shinpei gave him that expressionless look but deadly enough to make most people shut up. Thomas, of course, wasn't most people.
"Come on," Thomas said, walking around the mini table to sit across from him. "You're acting like they asked you to marry a ghost. She's gorgeous. Yeah, a little crazy but pretty, isn't that your type? You might even smile once in a while."
"Doubtful," Shinpei replied, leaning back in his chair.
Thomas chuckled. "You really are hopeless." He poured himself another drink and handed the bottle toward Shinpei, who ignored it. "Alright, fine. Go ahead. Be moody."
Shinpei stood, buttoned his jacket, and said quietly, "I just want a drink."
Thomas sighed, muttering under his breath, "You just had one." But Shinpei was already gone.
Outside, his black Aston Martin Valour purred to life, headlights slicing through the night. He drove fast, the kind of speed that cleared thoughts or at least buried them deeper.
He stopped at The Billionaire Bar, a sleek, bar active throughout the day and not in the night, it's known for serving the city's wealthiest degenerates. The air smelled like cigars and strong perfume. Shinpei walked to the counter, sat down, and ordered, "A bottle of The Macallan 1926."
The bartender hesitated, then nodded. One of the most expensive whiskies in the world. Shinpei poured himself a glass, watching the golden liquid swirl before taking a slow sip.
He barely had time to settle before a voice, thick with a playful country drawl, came from behind him. "Why's a handsome man like you got such a long face?"
A woman brushed against his shoulder, her perfume strong, her scarf feathered and bright. Her dress hugged her curves, and her red heels clicked against the floor like tiny declarations. She licked a lollipop slowly, eyes glinting beneath long lashes.
Shinpei reached into his wallet and pulled out a few bills, holding them toward her without a word.
She looked at the money, then at him, and smirked. "Honey, I didn't ask for payment."
He hesitated. "I'm getting married."
She leaned closer, her lollipop tapping against her teeth. "How lucky is she right?"
"She's not even my type, I never planned on getting a wife." he replied flatly.
Her smile widened. "Let me guess. Your type is curvy women?."
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Then marry her. Let her be the mother of your fancy little heirs. And every night…" her lips brushed near his ear"…come to my bed instead."
Shinpei's hand stilled on his glass. She slipped a folded note into the pocket of his coat, her perfume lingering as she straightened up.
"You'll need that later," she said, smiling coyly. Then she turned, hips swaying as she walked towards the door, her heels echoing through the bar.
Shinpei watched her go, silent. Then he drained his glass in one long gulp, set it down, and stood.
Outside, she glanced back once and smirked. He followed.
She led him down the street towards a four storey building to her apartment.
Shinpei followed behind her. He closed her room door behind him. She giggled and threw her scarf on the couch then took off her heels seducing him to her bedroom.
Shinpei followed her through the soft-lit corridor, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor. She walked ahead with an easy sway in her hips, her perfume lingering behind her like a trail of temptation.
When she opened the windows, a gentle wind slipped through, brushing the curtains aside like an invitation.
She turned toward him, leaning against the dresser with a teasing smile. "You really came," she said softly, voice dipped in mischief. Her eyes lingered on his perfect posture, the faint shadow of tiredness behind his eyes. "You look like a man who carries the world on his shoulders," she whispered, stepping closer until the space between them was just air and heat.
He didn't move, didn't blink. But his gaze followed her like gravity.
She reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his collar. "Let's take this coat off."
He allowed her to slide it off, the fabric falling soundlessly to the floor. The gesture was slow and deliberate.
Her hands paused against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the expensive fabric of his shirt. "And this too."
Shinpei caught her wrist gently, his hand firm but careful. She smiled at that, her lips curving in amusement. "You like it submissive huh?"