POV: Anika, final paragraph Rai
Tokyo – 2:31 AM
The alley behind the Kurosawa safehouse
Her lungs burned. Her bare feet slapped against the concrete, slippery from the rain. The oversized cloak she'd stolen clung to her like guilt.
She didn't look back.
She couldn't.
Not after what she saw. Not after the blood. Not after realizing she was just a chess piece in Rai Kurosawa's underground empire. A bride, yes — but to a devil.
Her heart pounded. Every step screamed freedom.
She had a boat ticket. A stolen phone. She'd memorized the route Kenji once muttered in his sleep. She was almost out.
Almost.
A hand caught her wrist like a noose from the dark.
She screamed, twisting — but her body was yanked back, slammed into a wall slick with rain and grime. Breath fled her lungs.
She didn't have to see to know.
Rai.
His breath hit her ear like thunder.
"You ran."
A statement. No fury. No surprise.
Just raw, cold disappointment.
Her chest heaved. "Let me go."
"You drugged Kenji." His voice dropped. "Slipped out of a house with twelve guards. You almost made it to the docks."
"I would've kept going."
"I know." A pause. "That's why I'm furious."
She slapped him.
He didn't flinch.
Instead, he shoved her against the wall again, harder — hands braced on either side of her head, soaking wet, caging her in.
"You think the world out there is safer than me?" he rasped.
"It's freer than you!"
"You don't know what they'd do to you, Anika. What they're waiting to do."
"You already did it!" she shouted. "You trapped me! Used me! Lied—"
"I never lied."
He stepped closer. Their chests nearly touched.
"I never lied about wanting you."
Anika trembled. "You don't want me. You own me."
Rai's breath hitched. His hand curled in the wet silk of her cloak.
For a second, she thought he would kiss her.
For a second, she wanted him to.
Instead—
He pushed her cloak off her shoulders. Slowly. Deliberately.
Her pulse thundered in her throat.
"Are you going to punish me?" she hissed. "Strip me down and remind me who I belong to?"
He stared at her — jaw clenched, chest rising, eyes wild with restraint.
Then, suddenly, his hand gripped her throat.
Not choking.
Just holding.
Claiming.
"I could," he growled, voice like gravel soaked in wine. "I could take you right here and remind you whose name you scream when you break."
Her eyes widened.
Her knees buckled slightly.
But he didn't move closer.
Didn't force her.
He just watched her crumble.
"You want to hate me?" His forehead pressed against hers. "Then hate me while knowing this—I'd burn this world to ash before I let it take you from me."
A single tear slipped from her eye.
"I wanted to choose…" she whispered. "Even if it meant choosing wrong."
And finally—
He let her go.
Stepped back.
Looked at her like a man looking at his own ruin.
"You did choose, Anika," Rai murmured. "You chose to run. And I chose to chase."
She collapsed to her knees. In the rain. In the dark. In the truth.
He didn't touch her again.
Just stood over her.
Guard.
Devil.
Lover.
And whispered, "Next time, I won't stop at the wall."