Y/n's POV.
I hugged him.
And for a sweet and small moment, the devil seemed to be human; he seemed to be capable of loving me like I secretly wanted to love him.
Time froze and I was locked in the sweetest embrace of my life. His sandalwood and mint scent filled my senses, and the crisp white cotton of his suit undershirt pressed against my face, caressing it and making me feel like I was in heaven.
My tiny arms were almost unable to reach each other around his built figure as I enjoyed this bliss.
I closed my eyes and sighed, letting my chest cave and myself enjoy this rare moment of security.
All the anxiety left my mind; there were no guns, no murders, no mobsters, just Mikey, and I was safe in his hold.
For someone who presented themselves as being emotionally unavailable, he was comforting when he let down his guard; I might have even liked it.
"Y/n," he mumbled. I opened my eyes, going to break the hug, but he held onto me, so I stayed where I was and just shifted my head, nodding.
"Yes," I whispered. Nothing more would come out of my mouth; my throat was dry and hoarse.
What the fuck was happening to me? I was not falling for this guy; I couldn't be. I couldn't be in love with the devil, the mobster.
"You need to leave," he whispered back, lowering his voice. I could tell he didn't want to say those words.
And yet it seemed as though he couldn't bring himself to let me go.
He couldn't open up; he couldn't let down his guard for more than a few short-lived seconds; he was scared, broken, and hurt.
He didn't trust anyone with even an inch of his heart; the shards and wreckage of it were still broken and shattered everywhere.
All this pain he held inside of him—he couldn't let it go, but he wanted to.
"What if I didn't?" I replied impulsively.
Would he kill me? He could have done that already; I had stared down his 9-millimeter barrel enough times and given him enough chances to send me to heaven.
But every time he resented, and here we are now, in a secure embrace.
He didn't seem to know how to respond; he couldn't handle the thought that he might be loved by someone.
Finally, he drew in a deep breath and sighed, "I don't want to hurt you." I stood taken aback; this guy hurt people for a living; he fucking annihilated and sent people off the face of the earth for fun, and yet he didn't want me to be in the same room as him for the fear that he would hurt me.
"What if I said I didn't care?" I replied.
What the fuck is coming out of my mouth right now? I was shit scared of this guy, and now I'm saying, "Yes, please let me stay in a room with your raging ass just because I like the security of your hug'.
We aren't even friends, and I'm here hugging him and feeling scared he will cast me aside. I want him to leave me; I want to be free again, so why am I saying this sh*t?
What has gone wrong in my head? Maybe I was hit with that football or something.
Maybe these guys had brain-altering machines or some sh*t?
"What if I said that I did care enough to force you out of here so I can shoot something that's not you?" His already hushed voice dropped lower again, as if he was hoping that I wouldn't hear it.
I broke the hug now, staring into his eyes, and that was when I noticed that the darkness within them seemed to melt; they were getting warmer; they were staring into my soul, making it flutter and fly.
His jaw clenched tightly as he drew in a rather large swallow, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt and brushing his hair.
"Y/n," he started, looking me dead in the eyes. "Leave." His face was harsh and serious, staring bullets into my skin. I couldn't think of anything else to reply with. I was frozen again. I just nodded in a long and drawn-out way.
He didn't yell at me; he didn't demand; he pleaded; he just asked desperately.
I turned on my heels, unable to process what the fuck had just happened, and my footsteps trod towards the door, padding lightly on the floor as I went.
"Wait," I said, turning back around to see him shift awkwardly on the spot.
Whoever was standing here, it wasn't the Sano Manjiro I knew and feared; this was a man, not the monster I had been living with. "There are clothes in the closet for you, like I said earlier; you need to do exactly what I say tonight, or you will be six feet under the ground this time tomorrow," Cheery said.
I nodded and continued on my way to my room, glancing at the clock on the way past. At four o'clock, I have an hour exactly.
minus sixty minutes.
From inside the closet, I pulled out a strapless and skimpy black dress, a pair of silver black heels with sparkles on the buckles, and a stylish and most certainly expensive cropped fur jacket.
I was going to look like an absolute asshole in this attire.
For a trading conference, this was very fancy, but what could I have expected from the extravagant world of mobsters and criminals?
I showered and changed into my outfit, feeling exceptionally stupid and whore-like in the way I was dressed.
I did up the side zip and brushed my hair, curling it and pinning the messy bits back at the side.
minus fifteen minutes.
I rummaged around the closet for a few extra minutes, pulling out makeup.
I looked in the mirror. I like this. I was actually almost okay with how I looked until a larger woman came into the room, bearing a small black box. She opened it.
Inside was a shiny silver necklace with a bright green emerald as a pendant.
This was beautiful.
I turned it over in my fingers, and my heart sank. On the back was the symbol of the Bonten.
I was like a dog, and this was my collar, showing who I belonged to—a fifty thousand-dollar collar.
I tried to pull away, but the lady was too fast; she quickly fastened it around my neck.
If the tattoo wasn't enough, I now had this 'wonderful' necklace to go with it; it practically screamed to anyone who walked past me, 'I belong to the Bonten! '
If only I had stayed in the club that night, partying and drinking like a normal girl who was living in Japan.
If only, if only, if only.
I looked again at myself in the mirror, slipping on the silver heels.
My wobbly ass nearly face-plants the ground.
The woman staring back at me was more mature; she was older, tired, and worn.
I thanked the woman in the nicest voice I could master and stumbled out the door into the living room.
Like always, those dashed eyes found me again and were glued to my body, staring me down and analyzing my every move.
He wore a tuxedo with a red tinge on his undercoat, and he was cleanly shaven.
A gorgeous man.
His eyes trailed my necklace and he glanced at my wrist. He nodded approvingly.
"You look good," he said with a brief nod. I smiled internally at his compliment but only gave a brief nod back.
I watched as he tucked a 9 millimeter into his pocket and straightened the sides of his jacket.
He placed a warm hand on the exposed flesh of my back.
"Let's go," .... The limo ride was luxurious; we sat in the back in complete silence, taking in the black interior.
His dark eyes never left me; he was studying me and evaluating me, and it was fucking uncomfortable.
I wished that he would just look the fuck elsewhere, if even for five seconds.
"Y/n," he called my name.
I noticed briefly how he had started calling me by my name and not by a tormenting slur.
"What?" I responded, frowning at him.
I looked into his eyes, and seeing them soften, I continued to stare.
And I mean, really stare at him.
That was when I noticed how beautiful he really was.
It wasn't beautiful like other guys; it was something else; he was more.
He was the kind of beauty that made you lose your train of thought, the kind that made you remember and think about it for the rest of your life, the kind that broke you and haunted you forever.
The kind that tortured you into insanity.
I felt something jolt in me, like a strike of electricity.
Emotions flooded my mind, and suddenly I was blind.
I was staring at Mikey, and my heart was racing a million miles per minute; it made me want to scream.
"What?" I stammered. I needed to get my sh*t together.
He took a deep breath and stammered.
"You're beautiful." I lost it.
It took me five tries to get something successfully out of my mouth.
Sano Manjiro had just called me beautiful.
"I, uh, thank you." A slow smirk spread across his face. I had given him the reaction he wanted, and he liked it.
"We'll be arriving there soon, Y/N, and there are a few things you need to know. First, stay with me. No dancing with anyone else, no conversations unless I am by your side. Second, don't get drunk, please. I can't deal with you intoxicated tonight. And third, don't vex anyone. You can be a very irritating individual, and unless you want to die here tonight, just don't annoy these people." I nodded, completely ignoring the fact that he had just called me annoying.
Suddenly it hit me: "Wait a sec, dancing? I thought this was a trade conference?" I was completely confused.
He looked at me smugly and said, "Well, a trade conference, ball," "a ball, what the fuc?" He glared at me, telling me to shut up.
"Don't worry, people will know who you are. You're wearing Bonten's markings; if anything, people are going to be scared of you," he muttered.
The car rolled to a slow stop, and I gasped when I saw the house.
Mikey got out of the car and opened the door for me. I took in the house; it was massive.
At least six stories high, with glistening lights everywhere, bodyguards lining the property, and people in glistening dresses and fancy suits everywhere.
Mikey held out a hand for me and helped me out of the car.
My legs were shaking, and I could barely stand.
I tried focusing on not letting my legs crumble beneath me.
"Y/n, you'll be fine; you were meant for this; you look great. Just follow my lead, and you'll make it out of here alive and maybe even enjoy yourself." A smile spread across his lips as we made our way past the crowds of people.
People stared at us, men nodding in their respects towards Mikey, and the woman glaring at me.
I felt Mikey's hand on my back as we walked into the ball. I was scared as hell.