Love is Blind

21

Akira

I conduct business while Dahlia is asleep. It's easier that way. I don't want to show this side of me to her. Ever, if possible.

I suspect, it's not.

Ethan sits beside me. I close my eyes. She snores. And her organic snores are different from the fake snores she does when she wakes up and wants to listen in.

As long as I keep honed in on her, I can make sure everything runs smoothly.

"Boss, why did you like Daiki go?"

I sigh. This is my inheritance. The only thing my family has ever given me. The Nishida-gumi. My families clan.

"He's no real threat," I murmur, picking up my cup of sake, sipping it thoughtfully.

He's definitely be back to betray me though. He'll have to be dealt with at some point.

"How is the red light district?" I ask, looking up at Arashi . He handles the ladies. I don't usually have to interfere with that sector.

Any sector, so long as things are running smoothly.

Arashi is a middle aged man, though he looks young. His dark hair always slicked back, his suit covering his tattoos at all times, that damned clipboard in his hand.

He seems eternally tired, dark circles under his eyes.

He tried being a salary man. He just wasn't cut out for it. He says, blood is in his blood and he can't do without it.

He adjusts his glasses.

"The ladies of the red light district are well. The appreciation the security, and the low cut of profits."

I nod, sipping from my cup once more. "Good."

Ethan looks at Arashi, before looking at me.

"The Taketa clan would like you to sell them guns—"

"No." I say softly. Her snoring has shifted. I hold up my hand, hearing the door open with a creak. Ethan purses his lips but nods silently.

She comes out, her cotton night gown off her shoulders, her bonnet covering her curled. Her dark eyes fall on me, and then to the hundred people around me.

"Are you alright?" I ask her.

She blinks, looking around the room with narrowed eyes before honing in on me once more. Her suspicion is clear.

I don't deny or explain anything.

"Dahlia?" I urge her gently.

She licks her lips. "I didn't know you were having a party."

"I'm not,"

She walks backward, into the kitchen, silently grabbing a cup of water , going back into the bedroom.

I hear the lock turn.

Good.

I put my hand down.

"And I would really implore you to sell them," Ethan continues as if a beat hadn't passed.

I frown. "No. It's foolish to put guns in the streets we live in. Not to mention, who's to say we won't give them guns and they just shoot us."

I bring my bowl of sake to my lips pausing. "Not to mention we don't need the police tracing it back to us. It's a hassle, dealing with them."

The door opens once more. They fall silent.

She's stares at me. Dahlia is a beautiful woman. Her dark eyes, those hips, her lips. She knows it. She saunters you to me, her dress rising as she her hips sway. And then she plops down next to me, picking up my bowl and taking a sip.

"Can I get you something," I ask.

She leans her head against my shoulder. My expression softens.

"No. I have everything I need."

Cocky little brat. I eye her, shooting a look to Ethan. He shifts clearing his throat.

"Well...about the Taketa...group."

What is he doing? I glare at him, over my sake in warning.

"Did you want to take that deal?"

"I already told you no. It is a bad investment," I grit my teeth. "And if you bring up again I'm going to cut you...r salary."

I clench my jaw. I feel Dahlia's warm breath on my neck, her hand on my bare chest, tracing the lines of my tattoo.

She's watching me.

All eyes are one me. I sigh.

"Meeting dismissed." I stand offer her my hand, and she takes it.

My eyes taking I'm her shape her bare legs.

"Business meeting at 11pm," She says, her suspicion clear.

I nod. "We're more flexible here in Japan."

She raised her brow. So cute. She smells good. She showers at night and in the morning. At night she takes a bath, soaks in lavender and vanilla.

She smells so deeply if it when she wakes. Flowers. It takes me back to those blissful days we spent in her house.

"I wish I'd never taught you how to lie," she murmurs.

I shoot her a look, my lips turning up. "You think you taught me how to lie?"

She smiles softly, we pause at the bedroom door. "I did. You didn't used to. At some point during your stay, you started to lie to me. When was it?"

Day one.

"I never recall lying."

She smiles. "You never recall lying...did your lawyer tell you to say that?"

I chuckle, leaning against the door frame. She leans against the other, cocking her head her curls touching her shoulder, the dim light above us flickering.

It needs to be changed.

"It isn't so bad here, is it?" I ask.

She sighs, leaning her head back. She takes a large inhale. She's gorgeous.

"I'm real. I struggle, try to make ends meet, still fail. I drive a broken down car and I can't afford vacations. My husband died and I'm childless and I don't know if I hate that or love it,"

I frown. But I listen. She doesn't speak of herself often. Her eyes cast out toward the window in the room.

"You...you live in this mansion with all of these men who seem to serve you. You carry a sword and you get amnesia, go blind twice, get your vision back and get restored to your rightful place as the king of everything," she scoffs, settling her brown eyes on me.

"I guess I'm saying...there's nothing here, Akira. I am real. And you...are not. You're a fairytale and this isn't gonna last."

I swallow. We lead very different lives she's right about that.

But none of that matters. What matters are those moments. The time we shared. Those feelings those memories. The scents and smells. The way I can't smell a flower without thinking of her.

The way she can't see a tattoo without thinking of me.

"When I met you, you smelled of flowers and you were bathed in the sunlight," I smile. "You were fierce, and unrelenting. You fed me your ideas, your thoughts and your affections. Your attention. I ate it with joy," I reach out, cupping her face.

"Am I real?"

She looks away.

I pull her close, my hand on her back, lifting her face. "Do you enjoy the fairytale?"

She looks between my eyes, her finger brushing my cheek.

"Who doesn't like a good fairytale?"