The Yakuza Heir and the Silent Girl Who Changed His World novel Chapter 117

12:06 Wed, Feb 4

Chapter 117

Chapter 117

(Go to Naomi Point of View)**

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Why are humans born?

That question circles my mind endlessly, like a bird trapped inside a closed room, beating its wings against invisible walls until exhaustion replaces hope. I have asked myself this question more times than I can remember, especially during the nights when sleep refuses to come and memories crawl back into me without permission.

Why am I here, if this world seems designed only to teach me how to endure pain?

I remember my mother..

That is the first thing my mind reaches for when I begin to unravel. The memory of her warmth, the gentleness of her hands, the way she would hum softly when she thought I was asleep. With her, life felt light, almost kind. I was loved without condition, without hesitation, without having to prove that I deserved it.

But that life was temporary.

She left me too early, and with her went the only place where I belonged naturally. After she died, I learned that love could be taken without warning, that safety was fragile, and that the world did not stop simply because a child’s heart had been broken.

Meeting my father should have been a miracle.

Instead, it felt like a punishment.

I learned quickly that I was not a daughter to him, but a reminder of something inconvenient. My existence was treated like an error in an otherwise carefully constructed life. His wife looked at me as though I were an intruder. His family treated me as though I were something that should never have existed at all.

I learned then what it meant to feel unwanted.

For years, I tried to earn a place beside him, to prove that I was worth keeping, worth loving, worth acknowledging. I studied harder, behaved better, stayed quieter. I told myself that if I became small enough, useful enough, invisible enough, he might finally look at me and see something other than regret.

He never did.

Eventually, I understood that the love I was seeking from him did not exist. So I left, carrying the hollow echo of rejection with me, hoping I might find something gentler elsewhere.

I thought I did.

Matthew had said he loved me. He had looked at me with warmth, spoken promises with ease, wrapped his words around me like a shelter. I believed him because I wanted to believe that someone, somewhere, could choose me.

But lies are often dressed beautifully.

Katrina made sure I learned that lesson thoroughly.

Her cruelty did not simply wound me; it rewrote me. She confirmed the fear I had carried since childhood, that no one could truly love me, that I was something temporary, disposable, easy to discard once my presence became inconvenient.

I began to believe that love was something I was not allowed to have.

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Chapter 117

Then Tadashi came into my life.

And everything changed so suddenly that it felt unreal.

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With him, I felt seen without being examined, wanted without being judged, protected without being controlled. The world around me softened. Even my own thoughts became quieter when I was with him. I allowed myself to believe, for the first time in my life, that perhaps I had been wrong about my fate.

That perhaps happiness had found me.

But then-

That night.

The fire.

The hands.

The darkness.

My breath caught painfully in my chest as the memories surfaced again, sharp and merciless. I could still feel the terror clinging to my skin, the helplessness, the violation of trust, the way my body had stopped feeling like it belonged to me.

Oh God.

Tears slipped down my cheeks silently as shame wrapped around me like chains.

How could I ever stand in front of Tadashi again?

How could I let him look at me, knowing what had happened?

The disgust I felt toward myself was suffocating. It lived beneath my skin, whispered in every thought, colored every reflection. I felt tainted, ruined, unworthy of the tenderness he had once shown me.

I am dirty.

The word repeated relentlessly in my mind, louder than any reassurance.

When I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, my body screamed in protest. Pain radiated through me in waves, my head throbbing as though it might split open. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled my senses, and I realized slowly that I was in a hospital room.

Relief washed over me when I noticed that I was alone.

I moved carefully, every shift of my body reminding me of bruises I could not see but felt everywhere. Sitting up required effort, but I managed it, leaning back against the headboard once the dizziness settled. The moon shone faintly through the window, pale and distant, a silent witness to my thoughts.

Why does this keep happening to me?

Is it because I am not meant to be happy?

Is there something fundamentally wrong with me that makes love impossible to keep?

A quiet voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.

“Can’t sleep?”

My heart leapt violently, panic surging as my mind immediately leaped to Tadashi. My breath hitched, and I turned sharply,

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Chapter 117

only to release a shaky sigh when I saw Yukito standing near the doorway.

I lowered my head immediately, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face.

I could not bear to be seen like this.

“Naomi,” Yukito said softly.

The sound of my name shattered what little composure I had left. Tears poured from my eyes without restraint, my shoulders trembling as the weight of everything pressed down on me all at once.

He knelt in front of me, but did not touch me.

That alone made my chest ache.

Was it because he knew?

Or was it because he was disgusted too?

“I’m horrible, aren’t I?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“No,” Yukito answered instantly, his voice sharp with emotion. “No.. No.. Never.”

I did not believe him.

“Naomi…. Neither I nor Tadashi thinks that,” he continued firmly.

Slowly, hesitantly, I lifted my head and met his

gaze.

There was no revulsion there.

Only sorrow.

Only guilt.

“Yuki, you’re not disgusted by me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Yukito shook his head slowly. “No, never. Not even for a moment.”

The tears came harder.

“But, that’s not possible,” I murmured. “After what happened…”

He inhaled deeply, as though steadying himself.

“Naomi,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, “we are proud of you.”

The word struck me like thunder.

Proud?

“What…?” My chest heaved. “No. I didn’t do anything.”

“You survived,” he said quietly. “You endured something that would have broken many people, and you are still here.”

I shook my head weakly. “I’m weak.”

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