Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
The intensity of my want should have alarmed me.
Surely, this wasn't normal—the way every cell in my body oriented toward her like she was magnetic north. The way her absence felt like amputation.
I'd built empires, crushed enemies, commanded thousands of psychotic men without a tremor in my hand, but one look from her could bring me to my knees.
Is this healthy?
This obsession that made her pulse more important than my own heartbeat. . .
Probably not.
The Satsuki bloomed for weeks, brilliant and all-consuming, before they faded. What we had—this sharp, aching thing between us—didn’t feel fleeting like that.
It felt intense and inevitable.
And maybe that's what made it so dangerous.
I wasn't savoring borrowed time.
I was devouring immortality.
Her fingers left the petals, and I caught her hand again, needing that connection like oxygen. The relief of her skin against mine was pathetic, yet. . .revealing how much I had descended into madness.
Still. . .I didn't care.
I hope she never truly understands how much control she has over me. It’s too much power.
Enough power to make me think about rings hidden in velvet boxes.
About babies with her eyes and my rage.
About futures I'd never wanted until her.
Terror hit my chest.
The same terror I'd felt standing over my mother's remains in the morgue.
Over my brother's.
The fear that anything I loved would be ripped away, leaving me with nothing but the need to control what remained.
I'd built this island to control something.
Anything.
Now she was here, and I couldn't control how much I needed her.
Still, I pushed the terror away and led her down more steps.
"Again, they're really so stunning." She gazed at more flowers trailing the steps. "Once you brought them to this island, did you think they were worth the trouble?"
"Of course."
Below, the beach curved in a crescent of pristine white sand, almost blindingly bright in the sun.
The water beyond shimmered in that captivating blue-green, gentle waves creating a melodic whisper against the shore.
Nyomi stopped mid-step. "Kenji. . .the beach. Holy fuck."
“Do you like the sand?”
“God yes. It’s so white and shimmering.”
"I had seven hundred tons of sand delivered from Okinawa."
“Excuse me? Are you serious?”
"Definitely. I had the entire beach replaced."
She turned to me and widened her eyes. "So you just. . .redesigned the beach?"
"It wasn't perfect enough. The sand was this tannish brown." I pulled her closer as we continued down the steps.
Wrong.
Everything about it had been wrong.
The color, the texture, the way it didn't match the vision in my head—the vision of something I could fix, something I could make exactly right when everything else in my life had gone so catastrophically wrong.
An odd shiver ran through me.
I cleared my throat. "They had to be white to go with the perfect blue water. Do you see how clear the ocean is here?"
“Yes. I can see straight to the bottom even though we are so far out. It's going to be like swimming in glass.”
“Exactly, Tora.”
We reached the beach level, and I gestured toward the tree line where palms rustled in the breeze. "Those are sago palms mixed with Japanese black pines.”
I watched her take in the twisted pines, the way wonder softened her face. I'd spent three years perfecting this island, but I'd never once imagined sharing it. The trees I'd imported felt different with her here—less like possessions, more like offerings.
I shivered and cleared my throat. “See how the branches twist.”
“That’s lovely. Now. . .did you bring those trees here too or did they come with the island?”
"I brought them.”
She laughed and the musical sound vibrated through the space between us. And all I wanted to do was press my mouth there, just to feel the sound against my lips.
I grinned. “Tora, stop laughing at me.”
“Kenji, you are so extra.”
“I wanted this island to be a tropical paradise but with Japanese aesthetics." Between the trees, hibiscus bloomed in deep reds and pale pinks while bougainvillea climbed in magenta. The air here was thick with the perfume of flowers and warm earth.
“Still. . .” A soothing sigh left her lips. “You built a paradise."
"I did."
In the distance, partially hidden by the swaying tree line, the pavilion gleamed. Black glass and stone shimmering in the sunlight. They were clean lines against the blue sky.
I led her toward it.
“Now this is a masterpiece.” She widened her eyes. "So. . .what did my spoiled Dragon do to create this?”
“I overworked my architect.”
She chuckled. “Oh God. How?”
"It took him three years to build the final structure you see here."
Three years of tearing down what didn't match the image in my head.
Three years of my architect flying back and forth, rebuilding, adjusting, perfecting.
I let out a long breath. "I had him out here constantly rebuilding until I had exactly what I wanted."
Until I could look at something and not see chaos.
Not see death.
Not see the things I couldn't fix.