Betrayal in a Silk Kimono
POV: Anika (primarily), with Rai's cold presence threaded through
The soft rustle of silk echoed like a warning in the quiet hallway.
Anika stood before the door Rai always kept locked — the one he disappeared behind during late hours, the one she was never allowed to enter. But tonight, something felt different.
He hadn't returned. No bodyguard. No call.
Just silence.
Her fingers trembled as they grazed the ornate handle. She shouldn't do this. She knew better.
But curiosity wasn't what drove her tonight.
It was the scent.
His scent.
Mixed with something... floral.
Roses.
---
Earlier That Evening
The black silk kimono Rai had given her clung to her skin like a secret. It was beautiful — ink-black with embroidered red petals blooming across the hem, a whisper of sensuality. He had told her to wear it tonight.
"You'll understand why," he'd said.
But hours passed. Dinner turned cold. The candles withered. And he never came.
Not a word.
Not a reason.
Anika paced the room, fury bubbling beneath confusion.
Had she imagined their closeness? His touch from the night before? That silent ache in his eyes? That brief softness when he held her after her nightmare?
Or was she just a pawn again — dressed up to be forgotten?
---
Back to the Locked Room
Kurosawa Estate, 12:03 AM
The door creaked open.
Inside, it wasn't a vault of weapons.
It wasn't some mafia archive.
It was something worse.
It was a shrine.
A room filled with red and black roses — preserved in glass, dried and arranged like a twisted garden. In the center stood a photograph. A woman in a white kimono, bound in crimson threads, her smile haunting.
Maiko Kurosawa.
Rai's mother.
Anika stepped forward, her gaze drawn to a second photo tucked beneath an incense holder.
It was her.
No… not her.
A girl who looked like her. Almost identical. Younger. Eyes vacant.
The back of the photo read:
"Target 43 – Status: Eliminated. Cause: Refusal. 2011."
Anika's heart dropped.
She turned and stumbled back — straight into someone's chest.
Rai.
---
His voice was ice. "You shouldn't be here."
She couldn't breathe. "Who… who was she?"
His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. "Someone who didn't survive what you've walked into."
"And me?" she whispered. "Am I just a replacement?"
A long pause.
He didn't deny it.
That silence shattered her.
---
Flashback – Rai's Internal POV (Silent)
One Week Before Anika's Kidnapping
"She's the one," Kenji had said.
Rai stared at the dossier. A girl dancing in sunlight. Smiling too brightly for this world.
Anika Mishra. Age 21. Studied Literature. Soft-hearted.
Easy to manipulate. Easy to break.
But when Rai saw her in person — trembling, defiant, yet still holding his gaze — the plan cracked.
He wasn't supposed to fall.
He was supposed to make her fall for him — then destroy her.
---
Back to Present
Anika stepped away from him, her voice trembling. "Was it all a lie?"
"No," he said coldly. "Just not the truth you wanted."
She slapped him.
And he took it.
Because he deserved it.
She stared at him with something worse than hate.
Disappointment.
Her voice broke. "You made me wear her kimono, didn't you?"
He didn't answer.
Tears slid down her cheeks, but she held her chin high. "I trusted you, Rai Kurosawa."
He finally spoke, voice hoarse. "That was your first mistake."
And hers?
Looking back as she walked out the door.