The Yakuza's Mute Bride 소설 & 이야기

In front, Ethan has a huge grin with his eyes glued on his radiating bride. Owen’s words start playing over in my head “Rumours are he can’t wait for the honeymoon.” He is an innocent man, my motto is to never touch the innocent, but I can’t help wanting to blow his head off and take his place. I’m still rebuking my mind when Owen pulls me to the ground with his weapon drawn out. Around us, the rest of the mafia guest are also on the floor with their weapons also drawn out. The horrified screams from the groom’s family fill the hall as they all cram together on the floor covering their heads. It takes me seconds to realise what just happened. The bride is on her knees scanning around with he

-- [A Cathedral] The Yakuza himself, Giovanni, and the Yakuza uncles are the only witnesses if the guards surrounding the church are excluded. Presently, Izumi is walking down the aisle with Kaito, and there's a priest waiting at the alter to knot the conjugation. The absence of the groom is nothing, so far his stamp is here. Kaito is the one holding the stamped marriage documents, and he looks just as fulfilled as his daughter as they took each slow step together. Giovanni was blank on his seat, he obviously only wants to get this over with and get out. The uncles all look as blank as him, not like they've ever showed any emotion anyways.

They laughed, and one of them turned his gaze toward me. “The mute girl. Are you tired already?” I clamped my mouth shut, still crying. “She has no way to escape now. Of course she stopped. Just look at her—completely wrecked.” “Hm, you’re right. She wasn’t much to begin with, but now? Even worse.” One of the men nodded, his gaze scanning my body intently. He scoffed before mumbling under his breath. "She’s way too weak for a former mafia wife." "Of course. That’s why that woman got rid of her."

Andreas introduces me, and this is where they turn around. The Eastern scents now made sense to me; they’re Japanese. The older male steps forward; he looks perfectly polished in an expensive suit, but I can sense a danger about him even as he tries to hide his tattoos: the slicked-back salt and pepper hair, the scars on the side of his face and knuckles. This man is Yakuza; I can tell by the way he tries to shoulder the weapons strapped to him. “Fenriz Vega, it is a pleasure to meet you finally.” He says in perfect English with a faint Kanto accent and steps forward with his arm outstretched. “Kaen Tsukishima.”

She spat and Enzo punched her with his brass knuckles and she cried out as blood dripped down her broken nose. "Fucking racist" Enzo glared. "I know why she hates me, I will take that you weren't smart enough to scam anyone from country? The Yakuza are ruthless and will smell your bullshit from afar, they aren't ruled by their dick, unlike the men you've met. You are not even attractive" Yumi clicked her tongue. "Agreed," Enzo and I said simultaneously. "We will give you some time to reflect on life and if my wife isn't here in twenty minutes then forget about your worthless life" I declared.

Only one letter as the sender: H. “My game of chess isn’t over. The next king will fall. Be prepared.” Harley clenched his teeth. Tears welled up… then he stood. “I’m not a pawn. I’m not a puppet. You’ll see for yourself, Hideko—I know this is definitely your doing,” he said. — Autumn wind rustled the bamboo curtains. In a quiet, traditional Japanese room, the sound of high heels walking firmly down a wooden corridor was heard. Hideko sat calmly in the center of the room. Elegant. Serene. In front of her, an elderly man in military uniform knelt—one of the most loyal former hitmen of the Yakuza family.

(Sato Akiko, what do you want from me after all these years? - You know I'm Americanized. Now, I'm Akiko Sato. - Forget your weird ways. I don't have time to waste. – the Yakuza answers . - Jeez, always the same. Okay, I'll cut to the chase. I needed you to "lend" me your men in New York. I'm in the big apple. The Yakuza laughs. - Akiko, who do you think you are? You were always very snobbish. You should be more humble, as a good girl have to be.

Despite the spotlight shining on us, Gabby and I remained focused on each other, oblivious to the world around us as we exchanged vows of love and commitment. As the cheers and applause began to fade, a sudden hush fell over the sanctuary as the door someone stood up from their seat, and all eyes turned to the source of the disruption. Jordan, his face contorted with rage and desperation, rose from his seat with a menacing determination. "Kyra! You can't do this! You belong to me!" His voice resounded through the sacred space, cutting through the air like a sharp blade, leaving a trail of shock and disbelief in its wake.

Joonjae's eyes widened in shock. Shujin's mouth was covered in red blood while her hands held a half eaten rabbit with its insides ripped out. Upon seeing Joonjae, the woman let out a wheezing laughter and violently bit into the dead animal's stomach, tearing it out with her teeth. "Hwang Joonjae," she giggled, her teeth stained with red blood and limbs. "We meet again."

The priest’s voice from the altar dragged her out of her thoughts, and she remembered her reason for coming here. Revenge. Thankfully, Camilla was right in time. Bile flooded her mouth when she spotted Vanya at the altar with his bride. They were both wearing white. His bride had a veil over her face, so Camilla couldn’t see her face, but she pitied the poor woman. If fate was on her side, the woman would use this chance and dissolve the marriage. A cheater deserved to be alone and miserable.