2: Under the Watchful Eyes

Point of View: Beatrice

I lay sprawled on the hot sand, a book in hand, sunglasses shielding my eyes, and a scowl planted firmly on my face. My black bikini and yellow sarong said “relaxed,” but nothing about this felt like a tropical vacation. My hair, braided back, was a mess of loose curls that refused to cooperate—much like my mood.  

Trapped on this island with my father and the Morunagas, I had no idea how to process any of it. Pretending to be okay with an arranged marriage to a man I’d never met was exhausting. Unfortunately, solitude in a house full of alpha males was harder to find than a peaceful family dinner.  

“I finally get to meet the infamous bride,” a smug voice interrupted, cutting through the sound of the waves.  

I didn’t even bother hiding my annoyance as I looked up. Nitta Morunaga, Ryuu’s youngest brother, stood over me, smirking like he owned the beach. He dropped onto the sand without waiting for an invitation, his tattooed chest and arms on full display in nothing but a pair of shorts.  

“Ryuu’s not much for small talk,” he continued, his tone light and irritating. “But I figured I’d introduce myself. You know, break the ice.”  

“Charming,” I muttered, sitting up just enough to lean back on my hands, studying him through narrowed eyes. His casual arrogance was exhausting, but maybe I could use it. If Nitta wanted to talk, I’d listen—and pry.  

“Did your brother even agree to this?” I asked, feigning casual curiosity.  

Nitta paused, caught off guard. His gaze flicked over me, lingering far too long, before he grinned. 

“Who knows? Ryuu doesn’t share his feelings. But I doubt he’s thrilled. Marriage isn’t his thing—or mine, for that matter.”  

I rolled my eyes beneath my sunglasses. “Then why are we doing this?”  

Nitta shrugged. “Business, obviously. Two families merging their empires. Didn’t your dad tell you? You’re his heir. This was always in the cards.”  

His words stung. I’d spent my life ignoring my father’s world, hoping I’d avoid being dragged into it. Turns out, my survival strategy had been wishful thinking.  

“Well, I guess as long as I’m obedient, Ryuu won’t care what I do in my free time,” I said bitterly, more to myself than to him.  

Nitta laughed, low and sharp. 

“Obedient? That’s cute. Ryuu doesn’t do ‘sharing,’ Bea. You’re his now, and he’s not the type to let anyone forget it.”  

The possessiveness in his voice made my stomach churn. Two days. That’s all the time the Morunagas had known about this marriage, according to Nitta. Two days to prepare for a lifetime commitment. Meanwhile, I’d had a grand total of two hours to process it. Two. Hours. That was all the notice I’d been given to digest the idea of a husband.  

Divorce? Not an option. Women like me didn’t get divorced; we didn’t have that kind of agency. The only way out of this was in a casket. 

Standing abruptly, I dusted sand off my legs and grabbed my book. 

“I’m heading back,” I said curtly, desperate to get away from him—and this conversation.  

“Welcome to the family, sis!” Nitta called after me, his tone infuriatingly smug.  

The words hit harder than they should have. 

***

Dinner was a tense affair. I sat between my grandfather and Ryuu, who’d arrived late, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his presence suffocating.  

It was the first time I’d seen him this close. His sharp jaw, dark hair, and piercing eyes were more intimidating in person, but it was his silence that unnerved me.  

“Dinner looks great,” Nitta said, sliding into his seat with a cheeky grin. “So do you, Bea.”  

I didn’t bother responding, but the nickname grated.  

“Knock it off, Nitta,” Ryuu said, his deep voice cutting through the chatter.  

I froze. His tone was calm but carried an unmistakable authority. He didn’t even look at his brother—his eyes were on me, steady and unrelenting.  

“Your brother’s right. Show some respect to his fiancée,” Gojou said, his tone calm but sharp enough to slice through the room’s tension.  

I wished he’d stayed silent. I didn’t need a reminder of my “fiancée” status—or the fact that my future husband was a Morunaga. The weight of it pressed on my chest, but I refused to let anyone see me crack. Excusing myself under the pretense of needing wine, I hurried to the kitchen, my steps quick and heavy.  

The counter felt cool beneath my grip as I steadied myself. Breathe, Beatrice. Don’t lose it now.

When I returned, the atmosphere had shifted. Nitta looked pissed, his jaw tight, while Fukui appeared smugly satisfied. I didn’t need details to guess that sharp words had flown while I was gone. The silence was suffocating.  

“So,” I said, breaking it as I slid back into my chair. My voice was steady, even as my nerves frayed. “When’s the wedding?”  

The response was immediate and cutting.  

“Not now, Beatrice,” my father snapped, his tone making me flinch.  

To my left, Ryuu shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing mine. The unintentional contact sent an uncomfortable jolt through me, but I held my ground. If I moved, it would feel like retreating—and I’d already lost enough power in this arrangement.  

“Why not?” I shot back, my voice gaining a sharp edge. “I’d like to know so I can prepare.”  

The weight of every gaze turned to me. My father’s eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, Ryuu finally spoke, his voice low and controlled.  

“Prepare?”  

I didn’t turn to him. The question lingered in the air, challenging me, but I kept my focus on my father.  

“I just found out I’m being married off against my will,” I said, my words razor-sharp. “I’d like time to process that. And since I’m sure we’ll be pretending this was mutual, I need to rehearse my role as the adoring wife, don’t I?”  

Nitta snorted, his smirk returning. “Good luck with that. Ryuu doesn’t even have a heart.”  

“Maybe if you spent more time working like Ryuu and less time flirting, you’d get more respect,” Fukui muttered, not looking up from his glass.  

“Respect?” Nitta’s grin widened, but there was a venomous edge to it. “You think Ryuu gets respect?”  

“He gets more than you,” Fukui replied coolly.  

The brothers glared at each other, the tension thick enough to choke on. Gojou finally intervened, his calm voice cutting through the brewing storm.  

“Beatrice and Ryuu will manage. Public appearances are what matter.” His gaze locked onto mine, heavy with unspoken meaning. “I trust everything will go smoothly.”  

It wasn’t trust. It was a warning.  

“The wedding will take place here,” Gojou continued, as if the conversation had been settled. “Immediate family will stay on the island.”  

“Here?” I blurted, my fork slipping from my hand. My stomach sank as the implications hit me.  

“Eight days,” Gojou confirmed, his faint smirk adding insult to injury.  

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to nod. The rest of dinner passed in tense silence for me, though the Morunaga brothers kept up their sharp banter. My father and Gojou spoke as if this arrangement was already a success, a business deal sealed with my signature—but without my consent.  

Ryuu’s presence next to me was impossible to ignore. His silence was louder than any conversation, and I could feel his gaze on me more often than I cared to admit.  

When the meal ended, I pushed back my chair, my voice clipped. “Excuse me.”  

I didn’t wait for permission to leave. My grandfather’s soft smile followed me, a small comfort in a sea of chaos, but I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Not at Ryuu, not at Gojou, and definitely not at my father.  

All I wanted was to escape.