1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 2

'Oh, come on,' he hissed, giving the photograph on the table an annoyed flick with a finger. 'How old is she?'

His father had produced the photograph sometime before desert was served as if the combination of the two would sweeten the news. All throughout dinner, he had tried to dissuade his father that a marriage between them would be a horrible idea. The Federov's and Kei-Shiragata were constantly fighting; how was a marriage supposed to solve that? Besides, they didn't even know each other. How could this turn out to be good?

His father's methods, though haphazard in the eyes of the world, were usually filled with methodical planning. He had thrown his eldest son into the deep end when he ordered him to New York, while he himself remained in St Petersburg to focus on the family's activities there. Advisors had been appointed for Leon, consisting of his father's and grandfather's Captains, and such was the careful planning for his ascension as the next Federov Pakhan. Leon had been overwhelmed by his father's method, and was still adapting and learning his role. But this, Leon thought, had to be the limit.

'Eighteen,' he replied simply as he dug into his tiramisu without even a glance at his son.

He went back to studying the photograph with distaste. She was in some sort of school uniform, a sailor-style type with a grey collar and a grey skirt with her long hair undone as she smiled into the camera. So she was still a student?

Their age difference unnerved him. The different points in life they occupied unnerved him. Her innocence unnerved him. She seemed to be the sort of girl who had never been tainted by the darkness of the underworld, who would never step foot in the orbit of his world. Did his father expect him to marry this fragile bird of a girl? He absolutely had no regard for that sort.

So this girl would be his future companion. He gave his half-eaten tiramisu a dismissive glance; he could no longer stomach its creamy texture.

~

Hana stared dismally at her handphone that she clutched in one hand. Osuke had remained silent for most of the conversation, barely able to get over his shock as she told him, her words interspersed with sniffling, of the deal her father had pressed on her. They had hung up in the end because there was nothing else they could say. She felt horrible revealing such news to him, like a hand was tearing into her chest and wringing her heart out. But the more she told him, the more real the marriage deal seemed to be, and the bleaker her future became.

There was a knock on her door and she hastily wiped the stains of tears from her face.

Her brother poked his head in. In his hands was the wooden stacking doll. Just earlier she had been so excited thinking of her gift, but now she couldn't even summon a smile to thank her brother.

'Just checking on you,' he mumbled gruffly before shuffling in and taking a seat on the floor beside her. He placed the doll on the floor between them, then pushed it over to her. 'Spoke to Osuke?'

'Yeah,' she muttered, her eyes glued on the floor. She didn't know how to act around him, knowing that he had known. He could have given her some warning. But what would a warning help with anyway?

Then she placed a hand on the cool wood of the doll and drew it to herself. The material was smooth under her fingers and polished to a sheen. It was painted in a bright array of red, orange, yellow, blue and green, its little face smiling up at her. Hana removed the head of the first doll and calmly began to lay out the rest within.

'Okaa-san said she'll speak to Otou-san,' he began. 'To see if something can be done for you, give the contract a deadline or something.'