𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐲𝐧

c h a p. 6

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The Saito family estate loomed large and imposing, a testament to generations of wealth and power. A legacy of blood money and royalty lie within the walls. The family name was etched into the tall black gates that hid what happened behind closed doors. The chilling memories served as a reminder that this was no home, just a house. The sprawling mansion sat nestled among meticulously manicured gardens, its towering columns and grand facade radiating an air of timeless elegance. Inside, however, the atmosphere was far from serene.

Akira Saito sat in his father's office; his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the mahogany desk before him. The room was a study in opulence, with dark wood paneling, leather-bound books lining the shelves, and a faint scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air. It was a space designed to impress and intimidate, but Akira was unmoved.

He had been in this office countless times, and the grandeur had long since lost its effect on him. Now it was just a room that needed a good clean as the small puddle of dried-up blood stared back at him in the corner of his eye.

His mother, Yuriko Saito, sat in the chair behind the desk, her presence commanding and cold as the heavy silence amplified the tension in the room. The air was thick with the scent of leather and aged wood, the dark paneling absorbing the light from the ornate chandelier above. Akira's posture was rigid, his gaze unwavering as he faced his mother.

Yuriko's eyes, usually so calculating and cold, were now filled with a mix of anger and disappointment. Her usual wear of dark clothing matched the glum mood. The emotion that she meticulously displayed made Akira sigh, wanting this to be over. She leaned forward, her burgundy-painted nails steepled in front of her. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" she demanded, her voice echoing in the spacious room. "What if your father walked in on that scene? Do you know what he would have done to her? To you?"

Akira's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists. He scoffed with a bemused smirk that fell at her words. "If Father lays a hand on Arsyne," he trailed off, his voice low and menacing, leaving a threat in the air that she understood all too well.

She would lose everything.

Akira couldn't do much to his father other than the loss of a few investments but his mother, on the other hand, was an easy target. Without the Saito name, she had nothing. She wasn't born into this family, she married into it. Which meant nothing...she meant nothing. Not to her son. Not to her daughter. Not to her husband.

She was just a wife; replaceable.

Yuriko's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer. "You need to be more careful with the whores you sleep around with," she spat a daunting feeling spread across her spine at the look on her son's face.

The words ignited a fire within Akira. He slammed his hand down on the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. He rose to his full height, towering over his mother. "You will not call her that," he snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. "Be mindful of your words Mother or I will make sure you suffer far more than you are now."

Yuriko's composure faltered for a moment, a flicker of fear crossing her face. But she quickly regained her poise, her expression hardening. "I am your mother, Akira," she said, her voice icy, trying to match the look on her face.

"You've been in Europe for three months. This is the longest conversation we've had in years," Akira laughed bitterly; his eyes filled with disdain. "I've had nineteen assistants in my lifetime," he said, ticking off his fingers. "Three for basic needs, seven tutors, two assistants, three health specialists, and four nutritionists. You were never there. You never cared enough to be there. Yet here you are bold enough to call yourself my mother."

Yuriko's face contorted with rage. "I am trying to protect you!" she shouted, her voice breaking, tears rolling down her sculpted cheeks. A beauty spot matching her son's glistened under the trail.

"No," Akira replied, his voice deadly calm, which rivaled the brewing storm within his heart. "You're trying to protect yourself. If Father finds out about this, you know exactly what I'll say to focus his anger on you."

Yuriko was taken aback, her eyes wide with shock. "How could you do this to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She tried to stand to match his stance, a low-power move to make him feel pity, but during his childhood, his parents did teach him one thing: to never care for the people beneath him. And in this moment, that meant her.

"You did this to yourself," Akira said coldly. "You were never a mother to me."

Yuriko's eyes hardened once more at his words. Did he not realise the sacrifices she's made for him? "It seems we both have secrets that could cause a rift in this family," she said, her voice low and dangerous, taunting him about his silver-haired secret.

Akira's phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen. A message from an unknown number. He opened the message quickly, his expression darkening at the message that was sent. "There's no rift bigger than your infidelity," he muttered as he pressed play.

The video played silently, and Akira's blood ran cold. It was a video of him and Arsyne the night before, in a moment of unguarded intimacy. The unmistakable silver locs and tattoos on his body that were well known were a big reminder of what was at stake. He looked up, his eyes meeting his mother's with a cold, hard resolve. Their features match the other immensely.

"I have more important matters to attend to," he said, his voice like ice. "If you have anything more to say, tell one of the many assistants you've assigned to raise me to pass it on."

Without another word, he turned and walked towards the door. Yuriko called after him with a scowl, but he didn't look back. His mind was focused on the message, on the video, and on the unknown sender who now held a dangerous piece of information.

"We're not done here, Akira," Yuriko called after him, her voice trembling with frustration.

With that, he left the room, his mind racing. The message was unsettling. He was sure that Riki was on the lookout, making sure no phones were out, could he have missed someone? His thoughts churned with questions. Who had sent it? Why? And what did it mean for him and Arsyne?

As he exited the mansion, his phone buzzed again. Another message from the unknown number: "Let's play."

Akira's jaw tightened. Whoever this was, they had just made a grave mistake. He was determined to protect Arsyne at any cost, and he would find out who was behind this.

His car roared to life, the sleek black vehicle cutting through the afternoon light as he sped towards Riki's house, texting the rest to meet him there. The closer he got, the more his resolve hardened. No one would interfere with his life or his growing feelings for Arsyne. No one.

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