Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 84 - 86

Chapter 84: Chapter 86

Avara POV

The restaurant is an oasis of exclusivity, sparsely populated but exuding luxury in every detail. Modern finishes gleam under carefully curated lighting, the decor a seamless blend of sumptuous fabrics and cutting-edge design.

Haru strides forward, unbothered, Botan a steadfast shadow. Akio’s gaze scans the room, ever vigilant, as I step out hesitantly, an intruder in this realm of untouchable opulence. The security team lingers behind as they position themselves around the perimeter. A poised hostess greets Haru with an air of reverence as she heralds us to a table set conspicuously in the room’s center. All eyes seem to follow, though none linger long enough to betray their curiosity.

A waiter approaches briskly, menus in hand, but Haru waves them off. He speaks decisively, ordering for the table without input from any of us, his choice of a rare vintage arriving moments later. The bottle is uncorked and the wine is poured into waiting glasses.

As the server retreats, Haru’s gaze locks onto me, and the room’s low hum of conversation seems to fade. His eyes are empty yet relentless, a hollow void that feels charged with something unspeakable. Hatred? Or is it the weight of a question he’s too proud—or too cruel—to ask? The uncertainty tightens my chest more than his unyielding stare.

I force myself to break the tension with a measured sip of wine, its warmth spreading through me like a shield.

"I’ve seen the updates on your charity sites," Haru says, his voice low but his tone threaded with something hard to place. "The objectives met, the aid distributed—it’s impressive."

"Well I have an amazing team." I swallow, uneasy under the sudden spotlight. "People are caught in conflicts they had no hand in creating... it’s not right or fair. Warlords and corrupt leaders tear their lives apart, yet these are the very people they claim to govern."

Haru tilts his head, listening intently, as if dissecting each word. "Would you say this drive to help others is something you inherited from your mother?"

Akio scoffs quietly, draining half his glass in one swallow, while Botan sits rigidly beside Haru, his eyes barely flicking toward me.

"Helping people isn’t something you should need to do," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the weight of their attention. "It’s what must be done. Not for politics, not for photo opps—just because it’s the right thing."

"Something your father seems incapable of without cameras present," Haru counters smoothly, his words sharp enough to sting.

My brows knit, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "My father’s done a lot that’s never made headlines. Projects and initiatives he never sought credit for—that was all established because of his works. I learned that from him."

"Perhaps," Haru replies, leaning back with a small, almost dismissive smile. "But that spirit of self-righteousness? That’s all your mother."

At this, Botan shifts slightly, his movement drawing Akio’s attention. The two exchange a brief, meaningful glance, Akio’s subtle shake of the head as if acting as a silent warning.

"You knew my mother?" I ask, my voice quieter now.

The server returns, placing a delicate array of dishes before us. My plate is an aromatic pasta, beautifully plated, but the question still burns on my tongue.

"You knew my mother?" I press again, more forcefully this time.

Haru nods, his knife slicing effortlessly through a piece of beef bourguignon. "For decades," he says, too casually for the gravity of his words.

My breath catches, my mind racing. "You knew her because you knew my father," I say, almost to myself, trying to piece it together.

Haru’s lips curl into a bitterly amused smile. "Once, yes. We grew up together. But as they say, never mix family with business."

The room seems to close in as his words settle.

"He didn’t tell you?" Haru adds, feigning surprise, but his eyes gleam with unveiled malice, savoring the moment as if this revelation is a victory all of his own.

"Family?" I splutter.

"Like family," he amends. "We grew up together, the same impoverished street. I was born in Japan but migrated until I made the move back again over—by your father’s counsel. We were two different kids who shared the same dream. To get out of that shit hole."

My mind—crushed by the weight of this discovery.

"We had a vision," Haru begins, his tone eerily calm, almost wistful. "A perfect balance of power. Your father, the public face of righteousness, would dominate the light while I commanded the shadows. Together, we would control everything. It was his influence that secured the shipping networks I needed when I rose to lead the Yakuza clans—his connections that opened doors I couldn’t reach alone."

My head shakes in disbelief, my lips curling into a defiant smile that feels brittle, ready to snap. "No. I may not know everything but I know with all that I have that he’s a good man."

"When it suits him," Haru counters, his smile curving cruelly. "He had to be seen as a good man—untainted, incorruptible, a beacon against crime and corruption. And the world believed it because you believed it. Where in truth, he was the architect of it all. While I governed Japan, your father orchestrated trade networks across Europe and America, including being my gateway to the Sinaloa cartel."

A chill spreads through my chest, my breaths shallow and labored. "If that’s true... then why threaten him—my family?"

Haru chuckles, a low, hollow sound. "Threaten him? No. I loved your father like a brother. We were inseparable until his ambition outgrew us—outgrew me. What I thought was greed turned out to be something far worse: an insatiable lust for power."

"Haru," Botan interrupts, his voice taut with warning.

"What? She deserves the truth," Haru snaps, his gaze flicking back to me with an intensity that feels like it could strip me bare. "You fear the ghosts of your father’s making, but I am your godfather. At least, that’s what he called me when your brother Luciano was born. But those were different times. Alden was a different man then. Now, he’s someone I don’t even recognize. It’s why I understood Botan’s act against him."

My eyes dart to Botan, who sits rigidly, his jaw clenched.

"You tried to kill my father?" I say, my voice cracking as I force the words out.

Haru waves the accusation away as if it’s inconsequential. "It was an attempt, yes. A failure, regrettably, and one that came at a tragic cost. But your survival—and your brothers’—was a mercy your father didn’t deserve."