Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
If I’d stayed in Sebastian’s vicinity any longer, I have no doubt that my nerves would’ve gotten the better of me.
If I’d watched him any closer, I would’ve lost the control I’ve perfected over the years.
But as we leave, I steal one last look at him.
He’s at the bar, drinking with two other men. I recognize them from the magazines as Daniel and Knox. Both of them are British and probably the closest people to Sebastian nowadays.
From what I read, he’s still friends with Asher and Owen, too.
Daniel and Knox are laughing, but Sebastian isn’t. I doubt he’s even hearing what they’re saying.
The three of them attract the entire hall’s attention and women keep approaching them or trying to make as much eye contact as possible. Something hot and fiery erupts inside me and I squash it before it’s able to burn me alive. .
Sebastian lifts his head and I lower mine before he makes eye contact. I really don’t think I can handle it again. Not that I did the first time—or the second. If I keep getting caught in the maze his eyes create, I’ll most definitely never find a way out.
I let Akira lead me outside and breathe the icy air into my lungs before we get into the back of the car.
Our driver takes us to the outskirts of Brooklyn. Akira owns a house here, although we don’t visit it much.
I don’t, at least.
Akira often has business in the States and comes alone. I prefer to stay in Japan.
Ever since I moved there seven years ago, I’ve made it my mission to stay away. I’ve focused on keeping Mom’s legacy alive and have just played my role so the system can go on.
The car stops in front of the mansion, which has modern architecture mixed with a traditional Japanese style. The entrance to the house has a large black gate, but the inside is laid out in a square way. Wooden panels are situated on every side, and one has to remove their shoes before going in. The large space in the middle has a few rare plants that Akira personally takes care of. There’s even an enormous pond full of goldfish, koi, and other types of fish.
He feeds them himself and takes pride in everything that connects him with his roots.
Akira comes from a noble family with samurai blood that goes back several centuries.
His upbringing was strict and disciplined, and as a result, he’s a conservative Confucianist with a great appreciation for anything traditional, whether it’s plants or green tea done the authentic Japanese way.
However, he rose beyond that and opened himself to the world, which is the reason behind his success as a businessman. He’s achieved things no one else in his family was able to.
They let their traditional ways shackle them, but he didn’t. While he loves his origins and takes pride in them, he doesn’t let them pull him down and can become a chameleon if need be.
He’s in an internal war with his brother, who’s waiting for any mistake so he can turn the tables and become the leader of the Mori empire.
Of course, my jerk husband didn’t tell me anything about his origins or fortune when we used to be pen pals back when I was eighteen and he was twenty-one. Because the sucker totally lied. He was in college when he first wrote to me, not in high school. He’s thirty-one now.
Akira gets out of the car first, without waiting for the driver to open his door, then strides to mine as I’m about to step out. My husband offers me his hand and I take it before we walk inside together.
His steps are moderate, never too rushed, and never too slow. Everything he does is previously calculated to the smallest details. He’s like a mountain sometimes, I swear. No one can tell what’s inside its sturdy silence.
We take in the view of the garden that’s lit by dim yellow light coming from lamp poles between the trees.
“It’s a beautiful night, don’t you think?” he asks.
“It is.”
“Even the charity event was nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I had a few memorable impressions of a couple of people.”
I wet my suddenly-dry lips. I’ve known Akira for long enough to recognize that he doesn’t take note of everyone he meets. He might act polite and welcoming to each person he talks to, but he’s always filtering them in his mind.
He only recalls those he’ll work with.
Or those he’ll destroy.
“Like who?” I ask in a tone that I hope to hell doesn’t betray my emotions.
“Knox Van Doren and Daniel Sterling, for one.”
Sebastian’s colleagues. They came over and said their hellos to us after we talked to Sebastian since, apparently, they were previously acquainted with Akira.
“I thought you’d met them before.”
“Yes. But tonight, I met them under different circumstances. Let’s say, new ones.”