Chapter 11 - "My Bare, My Voice"

After our conversation, Asami moved like a man with places to be—quick, efficient, as if he could walk this problem away. He crossed the corridor and took a quick shower in the room three doors down; the sound of water was oddly comforting, like proof he was still nearby even when he wasn’t in the same room.

Forty-five minutes later, his voice was outside my door. “It’s me. Ichinose… are you awake?” A light knock followed.

“Come in — it’s open.” My voice came out thin.

He stepped into the dim light and paused the moment he saw me, propped where he’d left me. Concern folded across his face. “Do you need anything before I go?” he asked, softer than his usual authority.

I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell him I was fine and mean it. Instead I answered with the truth I could manage. “No. I’m okay here.”

He crossed the room in two strides, one hand finding my cheek. It was warm and real, and for an instant everything in me balanced on that palm. He bent and kissed my forehead — there was tenderness in it, fierce as a promise. “I’m already late. My grandfather’s waiting,” he said, eyes searching mine as if every syllable cost him.

Embarrassed and foolish, I reached up and held his hand to my face. “You should go,” I said. “Isn’t it urgent?”

He looked like he wanted to stay. He didn’t. Reluctantly, he drew back. “Call Amelia or Paige if you need anything,” he told me, voice fraying just enough to undo me. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Yes.” My reply ran out. I gave him a small wave instead of the words I couldn’t say.

His car started with a quick, impatient bark. He was gone before the goodbye finished echoing. The engine cut through the quiet, and then the house settled again — except my mind didn’t.

It looped over Julius face, his threats, Asami’s thinly contained fury the night before. The things I’d admitted to someone who deserved none of the pity I’d given him. The things I couldn’t forgive myself for.

Night dragged. I tried to sleep, but each time my eyes shut, I saw Julius smirk. I turned the pillow, counted breaths, tried to anchor myself in small mundane things. At last I couldn’t stand it. I left my room for the balcony to find air I hadn’t been able to taste all evening.

—-----------------------------------------

It was well past midnight when I heard the blare of a horn at the gate—loud, impatient, and unmistakably Asami’s way of announcing himself. The sound made my chest tighten. He was drunk again.

From my balcony, I watched the headlights sweep across the driveway as his car rolled in. Most of the maids were already asleep; only Aisha and Amelia lingered near the entrance, dutiful as always, waiting for him.

I stayed in the shadows, cigarette between my fingers, listening as he handed over his things. His voice carried faintly up the stairwell.

“Is Ichinose still awake?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Aisha replied. “He was on the balcony earlier, looking at the gate.”

I froze, exhaling smoke into the night air. So he knew I was awake. Of course he did.

The sound of his footsteps grew heavier as he climbed the stairs. A knock rattled at my door, but I ignored it, pressing the phone closer to my ear.

Dante’s voice crackled through the line, cold and sharp.
“It’s already been six months since we stopped talking, and more than a year since we ended. There’s no reason for us to stay connected.”

Smoke bled from my mouth in heavy bursts, like an exhaust pipe I couldn’t shut off. My cigarette burned too fast, ash spilling over the rail.
“You talk like it was mutual,” I said evenly. “It wasn’t.”

“You’re damn right it wasn’t!” Dante snapped. “I never agreed to any of this. You disappeared. Do you know what it’s like to come home from work and find the house empty? No note, no goodbye—just gone. And now you think you can tell me we’re finished?”

His anger twisted into provocation.
“Or maybe you’ve got a new man. Maybe that’s why you’re acting so brave now. Tell me, is he better than me? Huh?”

I clenched my jaw, biting down the smoke before it could choke me.
“Asami has nothing to do with this. He’s my employer, nothing more. You know that.”

But Dante laughed, low and bitter.
“Employer? You expect me to believe that? You’re loyal to him in ways you were never loyal to me. Always talking about your ‘duties,’ always putting work first. If he told you to jump, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

My grip tightened on the phone, knuckles whitening. I lit another cigarette just to keep my hands busy, but it shook as I raised it to my lips.
“Don’t twist this. You lost me long before Asami ever entered the picture. And you know why.”

Dante’s voice softened suddenly, dangerously.
“I lost you? No, Ichinose—you threw us away. You traded love for convenience, passion for a paycheck. That’s on you.”

The words dug deeper than I wanted to admit. I stared out into the dark, smoke clouding my vision, refusing to let him hear the crack in my voice.

Behind me, Asami lingered at the balcony door—silent, unmoving. I hadn’t noticed him, but his presence pressed against me all the same, heavy as the night air. He didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt—only watched, listening as I struggled to keep my composure against Dante’s relentless voice.

Dante’s tone shifted, furious yet laced with a cruel curiosity.
“I see. I’ve never heard you defend anyone like that before, Ichi. Sounds nice—makes me wonder who you’ve really been loyal to all along. Tell me, and don’t you dare lie to me… Do you love him? Do you love Asami more than you ever loved me? Is that why you’re suddenly talking back, acting like you can just walk away from me?”

His voice cut deep, every word a blade. My face darkened as I drew in another lungful of smoke, trying to keep my trembling hidden.

“Why… why do you really want to know?” I asked, forcing the words through the tightness in my throat. “What will you do with the answer?”

For a moment, there was silence on his end. Silence, but heavy—ominous. It felt like a shadow creeping closer. My fingers shook as I lit another cigarette, the flame unsteady, betraying me.

I lowered my voice, though it still cracked.
“Yes… I do love him.”

The admission tore out of me, raw. My face twisted with unhappiness I couldn’t mask, my chest tightening as if the night air had turned solid.

“Yes. I loved him more than I ever loved you. And even now, after more than seven years, I’m still in love with him.”

The words tasted like blood, like betrayal—because even as I spoke, a new terror rose in me. What if Dante went after Asami? What if my confession put him in danger?

My shoulders shook as I tried to stifle the sobs, but the sound slipped out, low and broken.

On the other end, Dante didn’t answer right away. The silence dragged out until I thought the line had gone dead. Then—soft, amused, mocking—he smirked through his words.
“…There it is. I knew I could make you cry. Even after all this time, I still know exactly where to press.”

His laugh was low, bitter, more dangerous than anger.
“You think you can love him openly, Ichi? You think you can just tell me that and expect me to let it go? I’ve seen men like him before—rich, powerful, untouchable. But men like that? They bleed just the same when someone puts them on their knees.”

My stomach dropped, cigarette trembling between my fingers.

Dante continued, voice turning sharp, venomous.
“You ran from me, but don’t forget—I’ve survived worse than heartbreak. I’ve had people try to break me, lock me up, bury me alive in concrete walls… and I came out meaner, harder. You think your boss scares me? He’s just another man. And if he’s the reason you threw me away, then I promise you, Ichinose… I’ll make him regret ever stealing what was mine.”

The words froze me. The night air felt heavier, pressing down on my chest. I wanted to scream at him, to hang up, but my hand wouldn’t move.

Dante lowered his tone, almost tender, but it only made it worse.
“Ichi… you know me. You know I don’t forget. I don’t forgive. And no matter where you run, you’ll always be mine first. Remember that.”

His tone hardened, venom slipping through.
“You ran from me, but don’t forget—I’ve survived worse than heartbreak. I’ve had people try to break me, lock me up, bury me alive in concrete walls… and I came out meaner, harder. You think your boss scares me? He’s just another man. And if he’s the reason you threw me away, then I promise you, Ichinose… I’ll make him regret ever stealing what was mine.”

I choked back a sob, pressing a hand to my chest.
“You know I love you but we’re over,” I forced out, summoning every ounce of courage. “So I’m begging you—don’t show yourself to me, and never call me again. Please.”

The silence that followed was worse than his threats.

I hung up, trembling, and clasped my hand over my heart.
“Please, oh Lord… don’t let him hurt Master Asami.”

Behind me, Asami stood frozen at the balcony door. His chest tightened with something he couldn’t explain, his face shadowed and unreadable. Who had Ichinose loved for seven years? Why wasn’t it him? The realization clawed at him, darkening his gaze with a fury he could barely contain.

To be continued…