"Hello, dear readers! I'm your Author-Chan, and I'm back with another exciting tale.
As usual, this story centers around an original character (OC), introducing you to the intriguing world of Yuri Akatsuki, also known as Yuri Yukimura, a spirited J...
Content Warning: ⚠️ Caution: The following content includes explicit themes, such as forced consensual situations, references to rape, character death (Han's), kidnapping, and blackmailing.
It's important to note that there is no actual support of rape. If you're uncomfortable with these themes, please skip this chapter."
No need to report; your discretion is appreciated. I acknowledge that my smut writing may not be the best, but thank you for your understanding.
Yuri's Pov
As the clock neared midnight at the Avenue the party was, a mysterious presence shadowed my every step. Annoying bubbling, I urgently dialed my brother.
"Oi, Akihiko! I'm begging for just one day, one glorious day of freedom! Take your guards away. NOW!!" I yelled, frustration coloring my voice.
"It's for your own good, you're in Japan, not London, we've got lots of enemies here." He countered, his response met with a sigh and I rolled my eyes.
'It's only for one and he'd aware I can take care of myself.'
"For just today, can I not have guards tailing me everywhere I go?" I pleaded. "Five hours," he agreed with great reluctance. "Yay!" I cheered, promptly ending the call.
Handing over my invitation card, I stepped into the disco. "God, it's breathtaking," I murmured, scanning the vibrant scene.
'Should I open one of my own? Maybe I should.' I pondered while observing.
Suddenly, I collided with someone, causing them to spill their drink on my coat. "Wow! Red wine. Great!" I sighed in frustration.
'It had to be my favorite, and of course, it was white! Damn it, white!'
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"Apologies, I should've watched where I was going," a guy with a British accent said, offering his kerchief to wipe my coat. "It's okay, I'm fine," I replied, dismissing his concern.
"Please, at least let me cover the laundry cost," He insisted, but I declined not looking up at him. Snapping my fingers, a guy approached. I handed him my coat.
"It's fine. Look, my dress is unharmed, that's enough for me." I said looking up to the assailant and I couldn't help but gape.
'What the fuck?!! He's hot!'
He was like the epitome of hotness. Chiseled jaw, intense gaze, and a bald head that just screams rugged charm. "Miss are you sure?" He asked but I was too dazed checking him out.
Muscles in all the right places – the guy is basically a walking sculpture of handsomeness. I couldn't help but think, 'Damn, this guy is smoking hot!'
"I'm sure. I'm alright." I nodded getting my rationality back.
He nodded and left. 'Being a regular here, I know most of the guys, but I've never seen him before,' I thought, observing the unfamiliar face.
