Scars Of The Past [Chapter 8]

The crowd buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, but Akiko heard none of it. Her fingers still felt cold where Glen’s hand had been moments ago.

She sat alone now, surrounded by strangers and golden lights that meant nothing to her. Conversations blurred into noise. Faces passed without leaving an impression.

A few minutes later, Harley returned, a crystal glass in her hand. Condensation slid slowly down its surface.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently.

“Akiko,” she replied. Polite. Flat.

Harley studied her for a moment. “How long have you known my son?”

“About a month.”

Something flickered in Harley’s eyes. Guilt. Regret. Or fear—Akiko couldn’t tell.

“May I ask you for a favor?” Harley’s voice lowered. Akiko hesitated. Glen’s warning echoed in her head. Don’t talk to anyone. But this woman didn’t sound proud. She sounded tired.

"As long as it’s something I can do.”

Harley exhaled, the mask slipping just enough.

“Glen wasn’t always like this,” she said softly. “He used to be such a gentle boy… kind, warm.”

Her fingers tightened in her lap. “But I made terrible mistakes. He saw things he never should have seen— especially from his own mother.”

Her voice broke slightly. "I broke something in him that day.”

“Could you… talk to him for me? I just need one chance.” Harley whispered.

Akiko lowered her gaze. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t hold that kind of place in his life.”

“No…” Harley shook her head quickly. “Please. Just try once.”

Silence lingered between them.

“Alright,” Akiko said at last. “I’ll try.”

Relief softened Harley’s face. Then her gaze sharpened slightly.

"Are you… safe with him?” The question wasn’t gentle. It carried the weight of a woman who knew her son was not just angry—but dangerous.

Akiko didn’t lie. “We grew up in similar places,” she said. “Pain teaches people different things.”

Elsewhere, far above the glittering ballroom… Glen and Marlen stood locked in a silent war of stares. The cold wind whipped between them, carrying the weight of years unspoken.

“You’ve become something I don’t recognize anymore, Glen.” Marlen spat, arms crossed, his voice sharp with frustration.

“Come with me. Shut down that ridiculous company of yours. Do you even realize the kind of filth you’re working with? The underground? The criminals?”

Glen’s smirk deepened, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with deliberate ease.

“I know exactly who I’m working with,” he replied coolly, exhaling smoke into the night air.  “And I like it. I’ve lived in darkness for as long as I can remember.”

His gaze sharpened, voice dropping low. “If you came here thinking you could redeem me, save me… you’ve wasted your time.”

Marlen’s jaw clenched.

“You still think you can save me,” Glen added quietly. “That’s your mistake.”

Marlen’s composure cracked. The years of brotherhood, betrayal, and bitterness boiled beneath his skin.

“Do you really have no shred of humanity left in you?” he snapped.

But the words rang hollow. Glen was no longer the boy he once called brother. That version of him had been buried the moment their family shattered.

"I run a weapons company. Every gun i make is built for one purpose—to kill a brat like you," Glen said with a mocking smile.

Marlen stepped closer, fury crackling in his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about your guns,” he hissed.

“But the underground? You’re already working with law enforcement, Glen. You could run your empire clean. But you’d rather crawl through the dirt with criminals.”

“Is that so?” His head tilted slightly, the cigarette dangling between his fingers. “But that’s exactly how I like it.”

Marlen’s patience snapped. He grabbed Glen by the collar, shoving him back, fingers digging into his neck. His eyes burned with betrayal, with the desperation of a brother who’d already lost too much.

Glen’s hand twitched, ready to retaliate—ready to unleash the violence simmering beneath his skin—but the heavy tension shattered when a soft, familiar voice cut through the rooftop silence.

“Glen.”

Both men froze.

They turned to see Akiko standing near the stairwell entrance, her figure small beneath the city lights, yet her presence pulled all the oxygen from the rooftop.

“I’m tired,” she said quietly. “Let’s go home.”

Harley had asked her to find Glen before things turned violent. Both brothers had egos too big to back down.

“You’re beautiful,” Marlen muttered as he brushed past her, his voice laced with quiet contempt. “Shame you chose someone like him.”

Akiko tilted her head slightly, a faint, prideful smirk curling her lips. “Of course. Why would i choose someone like you?"

Behind her, Glen let out a soft, dark chuckle — low and amused.

“Unbelievable,” Marlen growled under his breath and walked away, vanishing into the sea of glittering guests.

The car ride home was silent. Heavy. Tense.

Once they arrived at the apartment, Glen loosened his tie while Akiko silently helped him out of his jacket — a routine so familiar, it felt mechanical.

“You really had the nerve to talk to a stranger like that,” Glen muttered.

“Glen…” she spoke softly, hesitant. “Do you still hate your mother?”

The faint smile on his lips disappeared instantly. His face turned cold—empty of warmth.

"She asked me to—"

Then, a slap came without warning.

Akiko stumbled to the side, nearly losing her balance as the force sent her reeling. Heat exploded across her cheek, sharp and searing, her vision blurring for a moment.

She didn’t say a word.

Her fingers trembled slightly at her sides, but she forced them still.

She understood now.

Whatever existed between them—it did not give her the right to step beyond her place. Outside of work, she had no permission to ask about his past. No right to touch wounds he had never offered to show.

“I warned you,” Glen said coldly. His hand tightened briefly in her hair before releasing her.

“Go to your room.”

She didn’t argue. She disappeared.

The moment the door clicked shut, she hurried to the drawer and grabbed a small bottle of pills. She swallowed two tablets, her throat tight with panic.

She hated relying on these. But when the world caved in, and the walls pressed too close… It was either this, or break. But her mind betrayed her — flashing images of the past.

The beatings. The screams. The darkness that never truly left.

“I should try harder to understand him…” she whispered to no one. Maybe she talk at the wrong time. Maybe Glen was still drowning in the storm of his past.

Her trembling fingers traced the faint scars along her arm. She no longer knew which part of her body hurt the most. Her head? Her heart? Her soul? Everything… Everything felt broken.

Out on the balcony, Glen stood with a cigarette between his lips, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. His sharp eyes swept over the city — a glittering empire of money, power… and filth.

Once, he had been easy to break.

The day he caught his mother with another man—while his father lay sick, something inside him died. And the man who stood in their house that day… Mr. Eloise—Akiko's Father.

From that moment, Glen had sworn to destroy him. Not just ruin him…  Mr. Eloise wouldn’t just lose his company, his money, or his reputation—Glen wanted him stripped of everything. He wanted to watch that man starve. Suffer. Lose everything, piece by miserable piece. And not quickly. No, Glen wasn’t interested in mercy or shortcuts.

He wanted Mr. Eloise to bleed slowly. To wake up every morning drowning in regret. To watch, helpless, as everything he built, everything he loved—rotted in front of his eyes, until he begged for death and Glen would smile through every second of it.

With a sharp exhale, Glen crushed the cigarette beneath his heel as he stepped back inside.  He paused by Akiko's door. His jaw tightened as her terrified face flashed in his memory — the silent trembling, the red mark on her cheek.

“She must've gone through hell growing up in that family,” he muttered.

The room was ice-cold when he stepped inside. He flicked on the light. There she was — curled on the thin mattress, her small body shivering beneath the threadbare blanket. He’d hurt her — again. And every time, a little more of her light disappeared. And he was the one killing it.

"Aiko," he murmured, brushing her cheek.

She flinched awake, eyes wide with fear. “Glen…”

His gaze dropped to her cheek. The mark he left earlier hadn’t faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m not mad,” he said. His tone was flat, controlled.

For the first time, he looked around the room. It was bare, cold and empty.

No bed. No pillows. No blankets thick enough to keep the night away.

His gaze lowered again.

Akiko wasn’t lying on a mattress—only on a thin layer she had arranged herself on the floor. A makeshift bedding. Neat. Small. As if she were trying not to take up space that wasn’t hers.

The realization settled in quietly. He hadn’t even thought to provide one.

“You should’ve told me you were freezing all this time,” he muttered, carrying her into his bedroom. He laid her down on the king-sized bed, pulling the heavy blanket over them both.

His arm slid possessively around her waist. “Sleep.”

“I’ll sleep in my room,” she whispered weakly, trying to push his arm away. His hand stilled. The silence stretched—dangerous.

“Do you hate being close to me that much?” His voice lowered, sharp with restrained fury.

Finally she gave up and lay beside him.

“Such a cold attitude,” he murmured. “It doesn’t match that sweet face of yours.”

His eyes narrowed. “Or have I been wrong about you this whole time?”

“You know nothing about me,” Akiko whispered.

“Then tell me," he said. ​

“If I tell you,” she replied, “you might cry.”

A soft, dark chuckle escaped him — rough and low.

“How dare you…” he muttered under his breath, then kissed her.

"About my family,” he started, but Akiko cut him off gently.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re strong, Glen… for surviving it. For building everything you have now. You didn’t turn into something pathetic like me. You survived. You won.”

Her words hit harder than they should’ve. Glen stared down at her, stunned for a moment.

“Sorry for getting in the way,” she whispered.

For the first time, Glen truly… saw her. Maybe she wasn’t arrogant. Maybe… she was just trying to protect the little pieces of herself that hadn’t been destroyed yet.