Chapter 24
Ren doesn't like public appearances anymore.
Not after the kidnapping attempt.
But the charity gala is unavoidable.
Political donors. Corporate allies. Public legitimacy.
Reina insists on attending.
"I won't disappear every time someone threatens me."
Ren studies her for a long moment.
Then simply says, "You don't leave my sight."
Golden chandeliers.
Soft shamisen music layered over modern orchestration.
Elite guests dressed in power and money.
Reina stands beside Ren, poised and composed in a sleek black gown — elegant, understated, impossible to ignore.
Whispers follow them.
She feels eyes on her.
Not curious.
Evaluating.
Then she hears a voice behind her.
Smooth.
Amused.
"You look braver in person."
Her spine straightens.
She turns slowly.
Tall.
Refined.
Sharp suit. Dark tie.
His smile is not warm — it's precise.
Predatory.
He bows slightly.
Not to Ren.
To her.
"Mrs. Takahashi."
Ren's entire presence shifts.
Cold.
Silent.
Lethal.
"You're trespassing," Ren says quietly.
Kuroda's eyes never leave Reina.
"I was invited."
His gaze drags slowly over her face.
"I prefer to understand my opponents personally."
The room doesn't notice.
But the air between the three of them is suffocating.
Reina doesn't step back.
Doesn't cling to Ren.
Doesn't tremble.
She tilts her head slightly.
"You mistake curiosity for understanding."
A flicker of approval crosses Kuroda's eyes.
"Do I?"
He leans slightly closer — still socially acceptable distance, but deliberate.
"You are intelligent. Strategic. You've stabilized his internal fractures faster than I predicted."
Ren's hand moves subtly to her waist.
Claiming.
Warning.
Kuroda finally glances at him.
"You're fortunate."
Ren's voice is low.
"She's not fortunate. She's mine."
Silence.
Kuroda smiles faintly.
"Possession is fragile."
Reina speaks before Ren can respond.
"Only if the owner is weak."
That lands.
Hard.
Kuroda studies her for a long second.
And then—
He laughs softly.
"I look forward to our next conversation."
He steps back.
Blends into the crowd.
Like he was never there.
The moment he's gone, Ren turns her toward him.
Grip firm.
Eyes blazing.
"You will not speak to him again."
Her pulse is racing — but not from fear.
"He wanted to see if I'd hide behind you."
"And?"
She meets his gaze evenly.
"I didn't."
Something primal flashes in his expression.
Pride.
Possessiveness.
Desire.
His thumb presses into her waist slightly harder than necessary.
"You are not playing with a rival student."
She steps closer, voice low.
"And I am not playing at being your bride."
The tension between them ignites.
Not argument.
Heat.
Danger shared.
And more dangerously—
He enjoyed it.
Later that night, security reports something unsettling:
Kuroda left the gala early.
But one of Ren's business allies left at the same time.
And hasn't answered his phone since.
Was this truly a coincidence?
Or was the gala just a distraction?
Now the stakes are higher.
They find him at dawn.
One of Ren's most trusted business allies.
A legitimate investor. Public face. Clean reputation.
Dead in his private office.
No forced entry.
No struggle.
Just precision.
Hayato arrives first.
Then Ren.
Reina insists on coming.
Ren says no.
She comes anyway.
The body is seated upright at the desk.
Hands folded neatly.
Almost respectful.
Until you notice the cut.
Clean. Surgical.
Across the throat.
Not messy.
Not chaotic.
Intentional.
On the desk in front of him—
A black envelope.
Crimson wax.
Dragon insignia.
Ren doesn't open it.
He already knows.
Reina does.
Her fingers are steady.
Inside:
To the Dragon and His Bride,
A king who allows his heart to stand beside him in public invites demonstration.
You both handled last night well.
Consider this applause.
Remove emotion from the board, Ren Takahashi.
Or I will remove it for you.
— Kuroda
There's something else.
A photograph.
Taken at the gala.
From across the room.
Reina laughing faintly at something Ren whispered.
Zoomed.
Intimate.
Watched.
The temperature in the room drops.
He doesn't shout.
He doesn't move.
That's worse.
Hayato glances at the body.
Then at Ren.
"This is war."
Ren's voice is ice.
"It was war when he touched her."
Reina feels it.
The shift.
This is no longer strategic chess.
This is territorial.
Personal.
She expected escalation.
She did not expect guilt.
If she hadn't spoken.
If she hadn't engaged Kuroda.
Would this man still be alive?
Her stomach tightens.
Ren notices immediately.
He steps in front of her.
Blocking her view of the body.
"This is not on you."
She looks up at him.
"He sent it because of me."
"He sent it because he's threatened."
His hand lifts to her jaw.
Gentle.
Firm.
"Do not shrink because he wants you to."
Her voice lowers.
"He's not just testing us."
Ren's eyes darken.
"No."
"He's trying to provoke you."
A long silence.
"Yes."
And Ren does not deny that it's working.
Later, intelligence confirms something disturbing:
The ally wasn't tortured.
Wasn't interrogated.
He had already agreed to defect.
The execution wasn't punishment.
It was demonstration.
Kuroda is saying:
"I can take your people.
I can kill them.
And I can make it look effortless."
That night, Ren restricts her movements.
Doubles security.
Removes her from public events.
No debate.
No discussion.
She confronts him in their bedroom.
"You're proving his point."
His jaw tightens.
"I'm keeping you alive."
"I don't want to be hidden."
His voice lowers dangerously.
"I don't care what you want if it means you die."
Silence.
Her heart pounds.
"Then don't hide me," she whispers.
"Stand beside me."
Something breaks in his composure.
He steps forward.
Backs her gently against the wall.
Hand braced beside her head.
"You don't understand what I become when someone threatens you."
She swallows.
"Then show me."
His restraint is fraying.
His protectiveness is no longer just strategic.
It's possessive.
Primal.
And Kuroda just made it worse.