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Antique furniture, rare artifacts, and mahogany bookshelves filled with first editions decorated the room, each item a symbol of power and wealth. Their morning shadows stretched across the polished wood floor.
And yet, I found the luxurious room and its primary inhabitant suffocating.
As Ichiro listened to Aaron going over the latest inventory reports and expenses incurred, he steepled his fingers beneath his bare chin. The old man had started shaving his face as well as his head long before I was born, and his pale skin gleamed beneath the office lights.
Aaron, the man speaking, was one of my closest friends and someone I could rely on no matter the situation. Since loyalty wasn’t an easy commodity to come by in our world, once you found it, you never let go.
With bright blond hair and baby blue eyes, Aaron wasn’t part of the Sato family by blood, but he’d crept his way into all our hearts years ago. It helped that Aaron was one of the best accountants money could buy, and our family had obscene amounts of money to buy whatever we wished, people or otherwise.
Business was great, just not always legal by human or Gifted standards.
“What about the crates from South Africa?” Ichiro asked. “Any issues with customs?”
Aaron smirked, displaying dimples that had women of all ages swooning anywhere he went. “Not a single issue. That new witch you brought in has become quite the valuable asset with slipping past borders.”
Although my grandfather’s face remained stoic and impassive, I was well-versed in the man’s micro-movements. Approval glinted in the old man’s dark brown eyes faster than one could blink.
“Your marketing efforts have been lacking, Dominic.” Ichiro scrutinized the documents before him. “Or perhaps it’s just your commitment to this family that’s lacking.”
I tightened my fists, the dragon spirit stirring within me like a restless storm. Tension crackled in the air like electricity. Biting back a retort, I forced myself to maintain control. I knew better than to challenge Ichiro in front of Aaron.
That time would come.
I flashed a charming yet repentant smile that always worked in my favor. “I’ll work on that, sir.”
The room’s suffocating atmosphere amplified with each passing second, highlighting the feeling of isolation within my own family. As one of the potential heirs to take over the empire, I had never fit the mold my grandfather had crafted for me, always struggling beneath the weight of the old man’s impossible expectations.
Every day of my life, I strove to prove I deserved to be here, needed to if I wanted to achieve my goal. Except a lingering sense of uncertainty had started to grow over the past year. Even now, as we discussed the intricacies of our family’s businesses and clients I was expected to oversee directly one day, I questioned where my loyalties should lie.
For now, I would stick to the plan that had been years in the making. I would watch, and I would wait.
Behind me, the door swung open and thundering footsteps barged in. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Kenzo—only my youngest cousin stomped around like a gargoyle—but I did so anyway, swiftly coming to my feet in a feigned display of protection.
Aaron did the same, our two bodies effectively blocking the old man behind the desk from view. Failing to protect the empire’s patriarch from an attack was a death sentence.
Not that the old man needed protection.
Kenzo sauntered into the room without so much as an apologetic smile for the intrusion. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he came face-to-face with Aaron and me, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Like most of the Sato family, Kenzo had jet-black hair, dark brown eyes, and lighter, almost pale white skin.
Only I had a deeper bronze hue to my skin due to my father’s Brazilian ethnicity, and mine was the only untraditional name. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought my parents had hated me.
I turned my head slightly to glance at my grandfather. An interruption without knocking as Kenzo had just done would come with a harsh punishment. Disrespect wasn’t permitted in the Sato family.
Unless it was directed at me, of course.
But as usual, once Ichiro realized it was Kenzo, his tensed shoulders relaxed. Behind his thin wire spectacles, crinkles formed as he smiled at one of his favorite grandsons.
“Apologies, ojisan,” Kenzo said, though his sarcastic tone spoke otherwise. He strolled forward as if he owned the place, his oversized blue jumpsuit swishing with each step. “I didn’t realize you had visitors.”
Ah, yes, I thought with annoyance as I took my seat again. Visitors.
Despite the differences in how I was treated compared to my cousins and any other family members, I still desired my grandfather’s approval. It was ludicrous. I was much too independent and successful to care about an old man’s feelings, especially this man’s. The Sato family patriarch was the Devil incarnate.
And yet.
It didn’t matter that I’d bonded with one of the strongest, most powerful dragons our family had ever known. It didn’t matter how much money and fame, or how much honor I brought to the Sato name.
I was a bastard.
