The Yakuza’s Mute Bride novel Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Two days passed without meaning.

Time moved, but it did not touch me.

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Morning bled into afternoon, afternoon into night, and night back into morning again without any clear boundary between them. The curtains were drawn at different hours, the lights dimmed and brightened as instructed, and people came and went with careful footsteps, but none of it felt real. My body existed, but my spirit remained suspended somewhere far away, hovering over a hospital bed in Japan where Tadashi lay wounded and unreachable.

I did not eat.

I could not.

Food was placed before me three times a day, carefully prepared and arranged with quiet hope, but the sight of it turned my stomach. My body rejected the idea of nourishment when my heart was starving. The only thing I allowed past my lips was water and the medication the doctors insisted I needed to take. Even then, each swallow felt mechanical, an obligation rather than an act of survival.

Ai sat with me often, trying to coax me gently, her voice soft, her eyes filled with worry she tried and failed to hide. Yuka watched from a distance, efficient and vigilant, reporting every change in my condition to the medical staff. Guards stood outside my door day and night, their presence a reminder that the world beyond these walls was dangerous, unstable, and watching.

But none of them could quiet the storm inside me.

I sat by the window most of the time, wrapped in blankets despite the warmth, staring out at the city without truly seeing it. Somewhere beyond the clouds and oceans, Tadashi was bleeding. Somewhere beyond my reach, he was fighting to live. And I was here, trapped in safety that felt like a prison.

On the second night, exhaustion finally dragged me into a shallow sleep, but it was restless and broken, filled with half- formed images and echoes of gunfire I had never heard with my own ears. When I woke, my pillow was damp with tears I did not remember shedding.

That morning, I refused breakfast again.

The doctor frowned but said nothing, merely adjusting my medication and advising Ai to monitor me closely. I could see the concern written plainly on his face, but concern alone was not enough to reach me.

By the afternoon, the door to my room opened quietly.

I did not look up at first.

I assumed it was Ai, or Yuka, or another doctor coming to check my vitals. The rhythm of care had become predictable, almost numbing.

But the air in the room changed.

Something shifted, subtle yet unmistakable, like the moment before a storm breaks.

I lifted my gaze.

Yukito stood just inside the doorway, his posture straight, his expression carefully neutral. Ai stood beside him, her hands clasped together, her eyes shining with restrained emotion.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Chapter 70

My heart began to face.

Yukito stepped forward first, closing the door behind him with deliberate care, as if sealing us off from the rest of the world. He crossed the room and stopped a short distance in front of me, his eyes searching my face as though measuring something unseen.

Ai moved closer to my side, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Naomi-san,” she said softly.

I reached for my phone instinctively, my fingers already trembling before I unlocked the screen.

Yukito inhaled slowly, then did something he had never done before.

He knelt.

The movement startled me so deeply that my breath caught in my throat. Yukito, who stood beside Tadashi as an equal in discipline and authority, who bowed only when tradition demanded it, lowered himself to one knee in front of me, his head inclined just enough to show respect without submission.

My eyes widened.

He met my gaze steadily, his expression serious but warm, filled with an emotion I had never seen so clearly in him before.

“Naomi,” he said quietly. “You have suffered enough.”

My fingers hovered over the screen.

Ai squeezed my shoulder gently, encouraging me.

I typed slowly, afraid to hope.

‘What is it?’

Yukito nodded once, as if acknowledging the question.

“We are taking you to Japan,” he said.

For a moment, the words did not register.

They floated in the air between us, unreal and fragile.

Then my heart slammed against my ribs.

I stared at him, disbelief flooding every thought.

My fingers moved faster now, urgency overriding exhaustion.

‘Really? Can I go to see Tadashi?’

The phone spoke the words aloud, the artificial voice echoing in the room like a declaration.

Yukito did not hesitate.

“Yes,” he answered.

My breath left me in a sharp, silent rush.

Tears blurred my vision, but this time they were not born of fear or despair. They were relief, fierce and overwhelming,

Chapter 70

pouring out of me faster than I could control.

Ai covered her mouth, her own eyes filling.

“You earned this,” Yukito continued, his voice steady. “You are his woman. You have the right to stand beside him, especially

now.”

He lowered his gaze briefly, gathering himself, then looked back up at me with quiet intensity.

“And I will not allow you to face this alone.”

Something in his tone made my chest tighten.

Yukito had always been reserved, distant in his own way, respectful without warmth, protective without intimacy. But now, kneeling in front of me, his presence felt different. Deeper. Personal.

He did not speak of it, and neither did I, but in that moment I understood something without needing words.

Yukito’s loyalty to Tadashi was absolute.

But his resolve to protect me was something else entirely.

It was not an obligation.

It was not duty.

It was a choice.

He did not know it himself, and Tadashi would never name it, but I felt it clearly, quietly, like a truth settling into place. Yukito, the man who had always kept his heart sealed behind discipline and control, had allowed it to open just enough for

me to matter.

Not as a desire.

Not as a temptation.

But as something precious.

Something worth guarding with his life.

Ai moved closer, kneeling beside Yukito.

“The plane is being prepared,” she said softly. “A private flight. Gio is coordinating security, and the route has already been cleared. This will be the safest possible way.”

I nodded repeatedly, my hands shaking as I typed again.

‘When?’

“Tonight,” Yukito answered. “As soon as preparations are complete.”

My heart soared and clenched at the same time.

Tonight meant closeness.

Tonight meant answers.

Tonight meant Tadashi.

12:56 Mon, Jan 12 TG.

Chapter 70

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But somewhere beneath the relief, a faint unease stirred, quiet and instinctive, like a warning whispered too softly to hear.

I ignored it.

How could I not?

For the first time since the call from Yukito days ago, I felt hope.

Real, solid hope.

The kind that carried weight.

Within minutes, the mansion shifted into motion.

Orders were issued in low voices. Guards repositioned. Communications buzzed through secure channels. Medical staff prepared travel equipment and emergency supplies specifically for me. A wheelchair was brought in, reinforced and discreet, designed for movement without strain.

Ai helped me change into comfortable clothes, her hands gentle, her smile encouraging even as her eyes betrayed worry.

“You will see him,” she murmured. “He will be so relieved.”

I clung to those words.

Yukito remained close, overseeing everything with quiet authority, his gaze never straying far from me. When Gio arrived to confirm final security arrangements, Yukito spoke with him in clipped, precise sentences, outlining contingencies and escape routes as if planning for war rather than travel.

Perhaps he was.

As the hour approached, I was wheeled toward the private airstrip where the plane waited, sleek and ready beneath the darkening sky. The engines were silent for now, but the anticipation thrummed through the air.

I was seated beside the window once aboard, the cabin softly lit, the leather seat cool beneath my hands.

Yukito took the seat across from me. Ai sat beside me, fastening my belt carefully, her touch reassuring.

The door closed.

The engines began to hum.

As the plane taxied toward the runway, I pressed my forehead lightly against the window and closed my eyes.

“Tadashi,’ I thought. ‘I am coming!’

I did not know then that hope can be cruel.

I did not know that crossing the ocean would not bring me relief, but revelation.

I did not know that what was waiting for me in Japan was not a reunion, but the beginning of my worst nightmare.

Because while I believed I was flying toward love and safety, fate was already moving ahead of us, sharpening its blade.

And it was waiting.

Mon,