The Black Rose Blooms

The rain returned that night — soft, steady, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Anika didn't sleep.

She sat on the futon in the crimson guest chamber, the opened envelope beside her, staring at the candle flame until her eyes burned.

Kanzaki Ayame.

The Kanzaki-gumi.

Her mother—her bloodline—was never ordinary.

She had spent her life hiding in shadows, playing the role of the quiet girl, the helper, the one who never fought back. But the truth had shattered that illusion. She wasn't just a florist's apprentice or a disposable bride.

She was a legacy wrapped in silence.

And Rai Kurosawa had known.

When the door opened, she didn't flinch.

He stepped in, without guards this time. Black shirt. No tie. Sleeves rolled. Calm, lethal.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, voice low.

Anika didn't answer.

He took a slow step forward. "Did Aiko give you the letter?"

Still, silence.

"She shouldn't have. But I suppose it was inevitable."

She finally looked up, eyes burning. "You knew. From the beginning."

"Yes."

"And you used it."

"Yes."

That blunt honesty was worse than lies.

"I'm not your chess piece," she snapped.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. Then—something darker. Something intrigued.

"No," he said. "Not anymore."

Anika stood, squaring her shoulders despite the tremble in her knees. "What do you want from me now? My silence? My loyalty? My body?"

Rai's eyes narrowed. "Careful."

"Or what?" she challenged. "You'll lock me up again? Threaten my brother?"

He took another step forward, slow and deliberate. She held her ground.

"You think I haven't killed for less?" he murmured.

"But you didn't kill me."

The air between them crackled.

"You could've chosen anyone to fake-marry," she said. "A girl with no past. No bloodline. But you chose me."

He didn't deny it.

"Because of my name. Because my mother died for something you want."

He stepped so close she could smell the sandalwood and danger on him.

"I chose you," he said, voice softer now, "because the world forgot your blood, Anika. But I didn't. And neither did my enemies. If you carry the Kanzaki name, you are already a target. Whether you wear my ring or not."

She swallowed.

He touched the edge of her jaw—just his fingers, cold and commanding—and tilted her face toward his.

"You think I'm your captor?" he said low. "But I'm your shield. The only one standing between you and everyone who'd burn your bloodline to dust."

Her eyes burned. "And what do I owe you for that protection?"

He leaned in, just enough for his breath to warm her lips.

"Everything."

Anika's hands clenched into fists.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to run.

But instead—

She stood taller.

"Then I want a seat at the table."

He paused.

"What?"

"If I'm your bride," she said clearly, "I'm not going to just sit in silk and smile while men make deals around me. You want to use the Kanzaki blood? Then let me use the Kurosawa name."

A long silence.

Then, slowly—

He smiled.

Not kind.

Not gentle.

But intrigued.

"Careful, little rose," he whispered. "Bloom too quickly, and you might bleed."

But she didn't look away.

For the first time, she wasn't scared of his shadows.

She was learning to wear them.