Black Thorns: Chapter 17

She’s married.

Naomi is fucking married.

I try repeating that in my head over and over so I can stop myself from grabbing her and backing her against the fucking wall.

I tell myself that we’re in public, that her husband is right beside her and I can’t possibly yank her back by the hair and let my body talk to hers.

I remind myself of the days and nights I spent wondering why and hating my thoughts and her. I recall the years that went by in radio fucking silence and how I learned to survive after her.

None of those thoughts help in pushing my head in a different direction. Not when I’m barely stopping myself from barging forward and causing a scene neither of us needs.

Do I have to stop myself, though?

I could carry her petite body in my arms and kidnap her the fuck out of here. I could punish her, fuck her up, and leave her on the side of the road.

Just like she fucking left me.

She smiles at something her husband, Akira fucking Mori, says. It’s as soft as I remember, but it’s lost one quality that makes Naomi who she is—honesty. There’s nothing real about it. Yet she fakes it so well, she’s able to fool the tool standing by her side.

But not me.

She’ll never be able to fool me. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

Being in her vicinity again is filling me with more emotions than my chest can contain.

I want to get close to her.

Touch her.

Fucking hurt her.

But even I recognize how dangerous that would be. Just being near her is chipping at the steel-like control I’ve cultivated over the years.

After I chose a new path in life, I had to be in a strong state of mind so I could make it happen. For that, I built solid walls around my head and body. I adopted a disciplined lifestyle and have stuck to it.

The reason I avoid the limelight isn’t only because of the needless fuss it creates. It’s also because it doesn’t allow anyone a chance to dig their claws into me.

Seeing Naomi again is testing all my efforts.

And all of it translates into one need—to hurt her.

Maybe then, the fucking weight I’ve been carrying for years will finally be lifted.

Maybe then, I’ll get back the fucking colors I lost.

For now, I need to leave to gather my cards and, most importantly, to keep from doing something I’ll regret later on.

I plaster on my most plastic smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Mori.”

“Please, Akira is fine.” His eyes glint and I want to break his glasses and gouge them the fuck off. “My Naomi’s friends are mine as well.”

My Naomi.

It’s the third time he’s called her that in my presence.

My. Naomi.

I was the one who said that first. How fucking dare he take something of mine and turn it into his?

Burning sparks of hostility rush to the surface in need of release. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about inflicting violence, but Akira’s prim and proper face seems like the right place to relapse into old habits. Because fuck this guy.

Instead, I nod, my eyes meeting Naomi’s again. She digs her fingers into her husband’s arm for the second time tonight as her dark gaze stays on mine.

Her pupils are slightly dilated, her lips parted, and there’s a pink blush on her cheeks. She probably doesn’t even realize her reaction is visible to me.

Time hasn’t erased what I already know.

“Naomi. Good to see you again.” I take her hand in mine and kiss the back of it. My lips linger on her skin that still smells like lily and peaches. It smells like that fall from seven years ago and its memories.

My eyes never leave hers as my mouth rests on the back of her hand. I want her to see that she made a mistake by coming back.

That I’ll ruin her as much as she ruined me.

Ruined us.

She sucks in a breath through her teeth and her hand slightly trembles in mine.

The message got through. Good.

I release her hand and nod at her husband, who’s been watching us with a critical gaze. “I hope to see you around soon.”

His lips tilt at the side. “Oh, you will.”

I pause at his antagonizing tone, but then I turn around and leave.

An itch starts under my skin. One that urges me to turn and take another look at her, to see the fucker touching her.

But I don’t.

I already got the message through. Now, all I have to do is wait for her to fall into my trap.

Because that’s what Naomi does. She willingly walks over the land, even while knowing it’s full of mines.

I stop by the bar, abandon my untouched glass of champagne, and order a glass of Macallan 18. I ignore the brunette bartender with a lip piercing who’s batting her lashes at me.

As soon as she brings me my order, I take a long gulp. The burn of the alcohol quenches the burn in my chest, but that only lasts for a second before the flames turn hotter.

Daniel slides to the stool beside me and winks at the bartender. “Same as him, love.”

“Right away, handsome. Your accent is so dreamy.”

He shows her his dimples. “You have a good eye and ear.”

She laughs in a flirtatious way and slides his drink over with a napkin beneath it. “Call me sometime if you want to see what else I’m good at.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, love.” He brushes his hand against hers as he takes the drink.

She gives him an apologetic glance when she’s called to the other end of the bar.

“A brunette with curves.” He tilts his head and checks her out. “My fucking type.”

“What are you doing here?” I grumble.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, mate? Beautiful girls are surrounding you from everywhere and you’re sulking like an old cat lady who just heard that the judge won’t allow her cats to inherit her fortune, because her children are countersuing.”

“Then go have fun with all the girls. Why are you stuck with an old cat lady?”

“Hello? Obviously, because I love cats.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Now, back to business. Who was that?”

I stare at the bottom of my glass and how the ice swirls. “Who was who?”

“The one who got your knickers in a twist and gave you cat lady syndrome?”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Nah. Just noticed you were more rigid than usual. Do we need to bring in the big guns for Akira Mori?”

I break eye contact with my drink and face Daniel. “You know him?”

“Of course I do.” He throws up a dismissive hand. “International law, hello? That’s me, by the way.”

“Have you worked with him before?”

“No, but I dealt with an associate in England who did. Eh, you know him actually. Knox’s foster father.”

“Ethan Steel?”

“That’s the one. Knox and I went to Japan a few years back to provide legal advice to his father about signing with Akira’s company. Ethan wanted an extra opinion outside of the law firm that represented him for international affairs, and we were there to serve—and fuck hot ladies, of course.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Ethan or Akira?”

“Akira.”

“He’s successful. He works with different conglomerates around the globe and is their entryway into Japan and many other Asian countries. He recently financed a South African man with no background or business ventures under his name. But guess who that man is?”

“Who?”

“Friedrich Jacobs.”

“The man who discovered a diamond mine?” I read about that once in the news.

“Yup, that’s the one. And he didn’t discover just any diamond mine. It’s one of the few in the world that produces black diamonds. Akira is now the sole exporter of those goodies worldwide.”

“So he’s rich. Anything else you know about him?”

“He comes from a powerful traditional family in Japan. He never invites people who aren’t close family members to his house, from what I’ve heard.”

“How about his wife?” The words burn in my throat.

His wife.

She shouldn’t be his damn wife. Fuck that guy again.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her. I think she has her own business ventures that are separate from her husband’s. Both of them are private, that’s for sure.”

Private.

Of course she would be fucking private.

After all, I couldn’t find her, no matter how much I looked in the beginning. I hired a PI in Japan and begged Nate to use his connections to search for her, but it was like she’d never existed.

Turns out, she’s been under her husband’s private umbrella all this time.

“You know her, though.” Daniel’s voice brings me out of my thoughts.

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know, your stiffened posture and chatty self, maybe?” He pauses, his eyes widening. “Wait a minute. Is she the girl who broke your heart and stole your soul, leaving a grumpy asshole behind?”

“Fuck off.”

“She is!” He taps the bar table, grinning. “How does it feel to see her again? Please share your thoughts with your invisible fans.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Fucking liar. Forget cat lady syndrome. Your face is turning into a serious case of granite. Are you in a mood because she’s married to a man who’s richer than sin?”

“It’s because she came back,” the words leave me in a low whisper, forcing me to taste bitter acid.

“What?”

“She should’ve stayed away.”

“I don’t understand what that means, and no thanks, I don’t need an explanation. What I do need, however, is deets.” He slides closer and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Tell me some deep, dark secrets I can use to make her husband my client.”

“He’ll be my client.”

“Wait, and I mean this in the most sodding way, what?”

I take a long drink. “I’m making Akira Mori my client.”

“But you don’t do international law.”

“I do corporate. That’s enough.” I stare at him. “Besides, no offense, but you can’t handle him.”

“And you can, motherfucker?”

“I will.”

Daniel opens his mouth, probably to curse me, but Knox cuts him off, grabbing us both by the shoulder and jamming himself between us. “Are you having a moment without me? Do I need to sabotage you and ruin your careers?”

“Vindictive bitch suits you, Knox.” Daniel jabs him.

“What can I say? I love digging graves.”

I stare at him. “Help me dig one then.”

His mouth moves into a Cheshire cat grin. “I like that. I’m in.”

“Don’t be.” Daniel tsks. “It’s a bad idea.”

“I love bad ideas.” Knox squeezes my shoulder. “What did you have in mind?”

I stare back at where I left Naomi and Akira. She still has an arm wrapped around his as they mingle with the attendees.

She’s still fake-smiling and putting on a show.

The Naomi I knew would never fake anything, but that’s the thing.

I don’t know this Naomi.

And I sure as fuck have no clue why she married Akira. It couldn’t be the money since she must have plenty of her own.

Was it by chance? Did she meet him and not feel suffocated? Did he save her when I fucking couldn’t?

One thing’s for sure, she chose him and I’ll make her unchoose him, even if it’s the last thing I do.

I tip my chin toward them and speak to Knox, “Get me all the dirt on the Mori couple.”

As if feeling my gaze on her, Naomi turns her head in my direction.

Her smile falters and her dark eyes glint, but it’s only due to the lights, not the life that used to spark through her every movement.

Maybe this whole thing wasn’t a coincidence, after all.

Maybe I’m meant to yank that part of her to the surface again.