THE MAFIA'S PRICE
“Congratulations again on your condition. May your child bring you both strength and joy.”
My heart stuttered. Sakura must have told him. I returned the bow, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”
The tension of the deal dissolved like smoke. Haruto gestured toward the waiting cars. “Come. We celebrate.”
Lunch was at a private ryokan overlooking the bay, low tables, cushions, floor-to-ceiling windows framing cargo ships sliding past like floating cities. Kaiseki again, but richer: wagyu seared tableside, uni so fresh it tasted of the sea itself, delicate sashimi arranged like jewels, sake warmed in tiny ceramic cups. Conversation flowed easily, Haruto speaking of Tokyo’s hidden gardens, Sakura asking