1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 7

A/N: Hello new readers and re-readers! Thank you so much for your support! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)

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Hana woke to a splitting headache and bright sunlight in her face. She squinted at the rays that shone through the gauzy curtains and let out a sound akin to a half between a moan and a sigh.

It had been a horrible idea after all to accept those drinks from that laughing boy, Markey or Mackey, whatever his name was. She couldn't remember now. She thought she was being polite, but maybe she should have been less so.

She reached clumsily for her pillow – the double-stacked pillows strained her neck – and plopped it down between herself and him. There. A nice barrier. Then a frown creased her brow. Her eyes flew down to her shirt. She couldn't recall a thing from the night before, but she definitely hadn't been wearing this.

She turned sluggishly to peer at the other side of the bed; he was unmoving, still in deep sleep. What else had happened last night? She knew someone had told her the guest bed hadn't arrived. She remembered how anxious she'd felt because of that. She knew she had vomited; her breath disgusted her, her throat was sore, and her teeth felt like sandpaper. Obviously, she hadn't washed up. Eh, whatever. What could have happened? They were both in their clothes, so nothing of that sort could have occurred.

She wouldn't have let him anyway.

Hana struggled to sit up, brushing her hair back from her face with one hand. She sniffed a little at the waft of alcohol that emanated from her, and wrinkled her nose. Then her hands flew to her chest and mortification flooded her cheeks.

What?

Her eyes flew to his sleeping figure again.

No way!

No, no, no.

~

Leon let out a groan and rolled, face first into something soft. His eyes flew open in surprise and confusion crossed his features at the white fabric in his face.

Really? A pillow?

A muted chuckle left him. Did she honestly think that a mere pillow could act as some sort of protective barrier?

He rolled back onto the other side. He'd let her have her way.

~

'So,' he said at breakfast. 'A pillow.'

Breakfast was a simple affair of coffee and toast. They couldn't stomach anything else. Or rather, she couldn't. He didn't eat much at breakfast anyway and so the simple fare suited him well.

Her only response was to pause and swallow painfully. He watched her with amusement in his gaze as she tore at her toast before passing it through her lips. Crumbs scattered onto her plate.

'We're getting a divorce after this, remember?' she muttered quietly.

Finally, someone was saying it.

A harsh bark of laughter left him at her boldness. She wasn't the tiny, fragile bird he thought she was after all. In fact, she was rather forward, wasn't she? That suited him well. He liked it when people spoke their mind. It meant less trouble. Less misunderstanding. And in this marriage, misunderstanding was something they didn't need.

She obviously wanted nothing between them and doing anything more than just sleeping side by side would be expecting too much of her.

'Yes,' he agreed. 'Yes, we are.'