Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
In another particular instance, about a week ago, I secured a room across from Ryann in Australia. I observed her for hours. She was a half shell of the woman in her Instagram photo. She wore oversized sunglasses and large-brimmed floppy hats. She ducked her head and didn’t make eye contact with those she interacted with when she finally left her room. I wondered who had left Ryann covering every inch of herself. Just as I’d witnessed at the art gallery all those weeks ago?
None of my men extracted any information via social media, such as who Ryann might be dating. Nevertheless, per Umito’s signal, I’m positive that a few of the others are entertaining the Chinese man. They’ll extract the truth from him, or I’ll have encouraged Ryann’s honesty. Either way, I’ll have my answer and the offender’s death.
I slice my tongue between my teeth to cease this incessant urge to command Ryann. “Are you enjoying the food?”
“Uhhh . . . yes . . . the fish melts in my mouth.” Ryann’s eyes fall to the table as if perceiving the innuendo of her statement.
I dote on her like I would one of my past pets, but I already know there is something special about Ryann. She deserves more. “You must try my buri daikon.”
The change of subject revives her. “What’s that?”
“Yellowtail simmered with daikon radish. Yellowtail was my first taste of fish. Of any meat. I was fourteen.”
“First taste of . . . what? Like you grew up a vegetarian?”
I let out a huff. “Not by choice.”
Ryann laughs softly. “You make me aware of so much, Ryoichi. I have this hunch that you don’t take life for granted. It’s refreshing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut in. Tell me more.”
As I fork another piece, I reply, “Finish. We have all night.”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stagnant.” Ryann shakes her head, allowing a fleeting thought to sink its teeth into her for a moment. “Actually, I’ve been the same ol’, same ol’ Ry all my life. Anyway, little, nerdy me must’ve argued with my momma every other night about baked chicken. And there you were, fourteen and tasting fish for the first time.”
“Best meal of my life.”
“I bet.” She grins. “I’m learning that we must be thankful for what we have. And I see that in you. So, tell me about this buri . . . daikon.”
My mind drifts back. I’d just murdered my stepfather and attempted to return some of his stolen money to Osaka. “I traveled to Toyama, on the coast of the Sea of Japan.” As I share with Ryann the tastes, the aromas, and the sights of the city, her face melts into bliss.
“You could be my tour guide any day, Ryoichi.” Ryann smiles behind her sake. “I’ll have to put that on places to travel when I visit Japan. There’s something about you that makes . . . makes me okay with purchasing all this food—for one.” She chuckles. “I literally haven’t thought about the price of—”
“Why would you?”
“Are you saying it’s part of the price, Ryoichi? I should look at the BB Extraordinaire website again and—”
Alright, Ryoichi, make a note of this website for later. I take Ryann’s hands in mine, kissing everywhere my silk scarf had constricted and bound. My lips will, of course, follow similar paths once I’ve fully taught her the art of kinbaku. Since I first set eyes on this woman, who’s taken a reprieve from her abuser at home, I’ve determined that I’ll need to train Ryann on how one claims his woman.
With patience. Kindness. Gentleness.
With reverence.
It still kills me to see the blemish beneath Ryann’s eye, covered in thick makeup, but I cannot just take Ryann. Not out in the open like this.
I’ll take her to her room first and explain myself. She’ll gather her things. And then she will learn that she’s mine. A smile sharper than the edge of a katana forms over my face. “Once I close out our ticket, let’s reconvene in your room, Ryann.”
Ryann is deathly quiet as we ride the elevator to her suite. But the moment she closes the door to a stark white room with touches of blue, she saunters over to me, chewing her lip pensively.
“Listen, Ryoichi, tell me this is more than a physical connection.” Ryann’s fingers glide through mine, and she rounds onto her toes to bring her lips a fraction away. “That I’m different from all the other women. My heart’s beating damn near out of my chest. I’ve never done this before. So, just say that I can have you for one ni—”
“You’re different from any other woman I’ve encountered in my life.” That must be the victim in Ryann, not comprehending how one night won’t suffice. I drop my palms onto the expensive, textured wallpaper, boxing Ryann in.