Se connecterThe dinner had been cold in every sense of the word.
On the surface, it sparkled, chandeliers dripping with gold, glasses clinking, guests laughing politely. But beneath the pristine tablecloths and polished smiles, Jerome felt something rotting, something hidden, something dangerously close to the surface.
Vanessa barely touched her food.
She barely spoke.
And every time Akihiko shifted in his seat, she stiffened like a trapped bird sensing a hunter.
Jerome wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, but he couldnāt ignore the feeling gnawing at him,a silent, ugly truth whispering at the back of his mind.
There was something between them.
Something he wasnāt supposed to see.
And tonight, he would.
When the dinner ended and guests began to disperse, Vanessa rose quickly, almost too quickly, her movements sharp and tense. She excused herself, claiming she needed a moment alone.
But Jerome knew her well enough to recognize a lie.
So, after a minute, he followed.
He kept his footsteps quiet as he trailed her down one of the side hallways of the sprawling Astoria Hall. The corridor was dim, lit only by soft golden sconces that cast long shadows across the marble floor.
Vanessaās heels clicked nervously.
Her breathing was shallow.
She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she feared someone would catch her.
She wasnāt afraid of being caught by Jerome.
She was afraid of not arriving fast enough.
Jeromeās chest tightened.
At the end of the hall, Vanessa slipped through a half-opened door.
He hesitated only a moment before moving closer.
He pushed the door open just enough to see.
And his heart stopped.
It was a private lounge, lights low, curtains drawn, the faint hum of city traffic muffled behind thick walls. A single lamp cast a soft, golden glow over the room.
Vanessa stood in the center, wringing her hands.
And thenā¦
Akihiko stepped out from the shadows.
Jeromeās breath caught in his throat.
āFinally,ā Akihiko murmured, his voice low, intimate, far too familiar.
Vanessa didnāt run.
She didnāt flinch.
She didnāt push him away.
She collapsed into him, like someone starved, finally reaching water.
Jeromeās fingers went numb against the wall.
āAkihikoā¦ā she whispered, her voice soft, trembling in a way that shattered Jeromeās chest. āSomeone could see us.ā
Akihiko cupped her face, tilting it upward. āLet them. Youāre not the secret here.ā
Vanessa exhaled shakily,not in fear.
In longing.
Jerome lowered himself into the shadowed corner of the doorway, almost collapsing, watching, unable to move, unable to even breathe.
Her next words broke him apart:
āI missed you.ā
Missed.
You donāt miss a mistake.
You miss someone you want.
Akihiko leaned in, brushing his lips over her forehead, then her cheek, trailing slowly down the line of her jaw. Every touch seemed to unravel her.
And Vanessa⦠she melted under him.
Her hands slid up his chest, gripping him as though she belonged there.
āVanessaā¦ā Akihiko whispered, his voice a dark caress, ālook at me.ā
She did.
And in her eyes, Jerome saw everything he had prayed wasnāt true.
Desire.
Familiarity.
Comfort.
A history he hadnāt known existed.
Her next breath came out like a confession.
āI needed you tonight.ā
Jeromeās nails dug into the wall.
How long?
How long had this betrayal been blooming behind his back?
His heart hammered violently, but his body refused to move. He was trapped between denial and the agonizing clarity in front of him.
Akihikoās hands slid around her waist, drawing her closer. Their bodies aligned with practiced ease, the ease of lovers.
And then...
Akihiko lowered his head.
Vanessa gasped softly when his lips met her neck, her eyes fluttering shut. Her fingers tightened around his shoulders as she leaned into him, arching subtly, offering herself in a way Jerome had never seen her do for him.
Jeromeās vision blurred.
Pain, hot and suffocating, tightened around his ribs.
He wanted to storm inside.
He wanted to drag her away.
He wanted to scream, to demand answers, to tear the room apart.
But he couldnāt move.
His legs wouldnāt obey.
His voice wouldnāt come.
He was frozen, forced to witness the death of the love he thought he had.
Akihiko brushed a slow, deliberate kiss along Vanessaās collarbone.
She trembled not with fear, but anticipation.
āAkihikoā¦ā she breathed, the sound painfully intimate. āWe shouldnātā¦ā
āYou donāt sound like you want to stop,ā he murmured against her skin.
And she didnāt.
Her hands slid around his neck, her lips finding him with a hunger that sliced Jerome straight through the heart.
Their kiss was deep, needy, unmistakably familiar, the kiss of two people who had done this many times before. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Only desire.
Jeromeās tears finally fell.
Silently.
Helplessly.
Hot and relentless down his cheeks.
The room blurred through a haze of grief as their bodies pressed closer, as soft sounds filled the dim space, whispered breaths, quiet moans, the rustle of fabric, the rhythmic closeness that left nothing to the imagination.
He knew what was happening.
He didnāt need to see every detail.
The intimacy in the air was enough to tear him apart from the inside.
He pressed his wrist to his mouth to stop himself from making a sound.
Vanessa gasped softly, clinging to Akihiko, her voice breaking on his name in a way that felt like a knife sliding between Jeromeās ribs.
And Akihiko,
He held her like she belonged to him.
Touched her like he had every right.
Kissed her like he had claimed her long before tonight.
Jerome slid to the floor, his back against the cold wall, trembling as the truth finally collapsed entirely over him:
Vanessa hadnāt drifted away from him.
She had drifted back to someone else.
To Akihiko.
To his motherās fiancĆ©.
To the man who would soon call himself Jeromeās stepfather.
The betrayal wasnāt just sharp, it was catastrophic.
A soft whimper escaped him without warning.
They didnāt hear it.
They were lost in each other, in something he had never been part of.
Jerome buried his face in his hands,
And for the first time in years, he sobbed.
"It's fabricated," Jerome said immediately, his voice tight. "It has to be. My mother would never…""Look at the timestamps," Collins said quietly, scrolling through the documents. "Look at the details. These aren't crude forgeries."Akihito took the phone, examining the files with the practiced eye of someone who'd spent decades in corporate finance. His expression grew darker with each page."These could be real," he said finally."No." Jerome stood abruptly, pacing the small office. "No. My mother built her company from nothing. She's meticulous about legal compliance. She would never risk everything for illegal profits.""Unless she didn't think it was a risk," Collins said slowly, pieces clicking into place. "Unless someone convinced her these transactions were legitimate. Someone she trusted."They all looked at each o
Senator Ishikawa's office occupied the top floor of a gleaming government building, with views that stretched across Tokyo like a promise. The Senator himself was in his sixties, silver-haired and sharp-eyed, with the bearing of someone who'd spent decades navigating political minefields.He greeted Akihito with genuine warmth, then studied Collins and Jerome with frank curiosity."So," Ishikawa said, settling behind his massive desk. "Akihito tells me you've uncovered corporate fraud. I'm listening."For the next thirty minutes, Collins and Jerome laid out everything,the photographs, the blackmail, the financial manipulation, and Takeshi's involvement. They presented evidence methodically, building their case piece by piece.Ishikawa listened without interruption, his expression giving nothing away. When they finished, he sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
They worked through the night, dividing tasks with military precision. Collins called every contact from his years abroad—journalists in London, investors in New York, board members who owed him favors. Jerome reached out to his network in Southeast Asia, to competitors who would benefit from exposing corruption, to regulatory officials who took corporate malfeasance personally.By 4 AM, they had commitments from three journalists to run the story if they could provide solid proof. By 5 AM, they had two board members willing to call emergency meetings. By 6 AM, they had assembled a presentation that laid out Takeshi's conspiracy in painful detail.By 7 AM, Collins's phone was ringing off the hook.The first call was from his father's lawyer. "Mr. Tanaka, I'm calling to inform you that you've been placed on administrative leave from Tanaka Corp, effective immediately. All company access h
"In exchange for what?" Collins asked, though he knew."In exchange for walking away from this investigation. From Jerome. From this foolish idea that you can have both the company and the boy." Takeshi's voice softened into something almost fatherly. "Choose the company, Collins. It's what you've always wanted."Collins looked at Jerome, saw his own conflict reflected in those dark eyes.A week ago, Takeshi would have been right. The company was what Collins had always wanted,his father's approval, his rightful place, the validation he'd been chasing his entire life.But that was before midnight tea in the library. Before Jerome's hand in his. Before he'd learned that some things were worth more than approval."No," Collins said."Collins…""I said no. You're right about one thing,I did spend my life wa
The name glowing on Jerome's laptop screen belonged to someone Collins had known his entire life.Takeshi Yamamoto. His father's right-hand man. Chief Operating Officer of Tanaka Corp for fifteen years. The man who had taught Collins how to read quarterly reports, who had attended his university graduation, who had been at his mother's funeral standing silent and supportive beside Akihito."It can't be him," Collins said, even as the evidence stared back at him. "Uncle Takeshi has been with my father since before I was born.""The shell companies trace back to his wife's maiden name," Jerome said, his voice tight. "And look at the timeline. The short positions opened the day after your father announced he was marrying my mother. Before anyone outside the inner circle knew about the merger."Collins felt betrayed in a way he hadn't even felt by his father's ultimatum. Takeshi had been constant, reliable,the closest thing to family Collins had after his mother died."Why would he do thi
They ended up at Jerome's apartment, surrounded by laptops and printed photographs, trying to piece together who was orchestrating their destruction."The letter to your father," Jerome said, reviewing the copy Collins had photographed before they left. "It's written like someone who knows corporate politics intimately. Someone who understands exactly what words would trigger his suspicions.""And someone who had access to take all these photographs." Collins spread them out on the table. "Look at the angles. Some of these were taken from inside the mansion. From hallways, from the garden, from places only family or staff could access."Jerome's face went pale. "You think someone on the staff is working with the Matsuda Group?""Or someone in the family."They stared at each other as the implications sank in."Who would benefit from sabotaging both the merger and our relationship?" Collins asked.Jerome grabbed his laptop, pulling up financial records. "The Tanaka-LinĆØa merger is wort







