Page 19 of Black Widow's Kiss

“To grow in the field, bamboo must bend.”

“You’re saying I should submit? To who? My husband? Father?”

“You must bend,” my submissive sister repeated.

Was my sister right? In our world, she had certainly thrived. With her gentle demeanor and softened words, she had become Father’s favorite. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. She had our father wrapped around her finger.

Was there power in submission? Could I have that power? Would that power give me Dante? As what? My lover? My love? Could anyone love a black stain like me?

Words between Yuki and I were no longer necessary. Silence overtook us. Instead of arguing with her, I tried something new. I bent. Mostly it was to join her as she picked up after my husband and my knife fight. It wasn’t so bad.

Could I submit to the extent my sister had? Probably not. Yuki had made it an art form. In every way she was a proper Japanese. And what was I?

No matter. It wasn’t what I was. It was what I could become. I would become my sister.

I would lower my eyes when men spoke. I would bow in the presence of my elders. And I would be the perfect wife for a man like Dante Ricci, my husband and superior.

Chapter 6

Dante

Turning my family’s organization into a legitimate set of businesses has it perks. One is that I get to go into an office. That’s particularly good right now because it gets me away from the crazy fuck I married.

Don’t get me wrong, seeing Kuroi in that suit with his makeup was almost more than I could take. It took me everything I had not to run across the room and fuck him until I couldn’t see straight. The man has a way of making me feel things I know I shouldn’t.

But it’s hard to imagine us having any type of life together while I dodging his stabs. I’ve got to hand it to him, the man is quick. I couldn’t just hold him off to keep him away from me. He made me work for it. I had to lose my cool to keep him from killing me.

The crazy thing is that I don’t think he was trying to kill me. He was right, there were a number of arteries he could have gone after if he was hoping to end my life. That confuses the fuck out of me because if he was trying to kill me with a poisonous kiss at our wedding, why would he intentionally miss the killing blow when he had another opportunity?

It didn’t make sense. Of course, nothing made sense with that crazy fucker. One thing for certain was that I couldn’t turn my back on him. I was also going to have to pay Sato’s men a visit for what they did to Franko, the attendant at my building. The man has a family and needs to make a living.

He can’t come into work every day scared that doing his job will get his fingers broken. Now, not only do I have to pay his hospital bills and for his time off from work to get him to come back, but his Christmas tip has to be as much as a small car. Christ, how much will being married to Kuroi cost me?

“I heard Sato’s men attacked your doorman last night,” Matteo said when I entered my office to find him there.

I paused quickly assessing what was going on. I hadn’t had the chance to tell the rest of my family about the wedding. I was too busy recovering from an attempt on my life.

And last night after leaving the hospital, I was preoccupied with how I was going to break it to Sato that Kuroi and I wouldn’t be living together. That was, of course, before I got home to find him already there and looking like the most fuckable thing I’ve ever seen.

“There was an incident. I’m taking care of it,” I informed my brother before heading to my desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Pa sent me to check on you. He didn’t have enough time to see you at the hospital,” Matteo said playing the subtle game with a level of skill I didn’t think he had.

“There was no need to stop by. It was a brief stay.”

“A brief stay because you ran that beautiful car of yours into a tree. What possessed you to do that? The Dante I knew would need to get shot to do something like that.”

Hearing his reference to getting shot, I looked up at Matteo. Was this a new level to his subtle game?

“Why’d you say that?” I asked suspiciously.

“Say what?”

“That I would need to get shot to crash my car.”

“Because you would. You loved that car. You acted like you would take a bullet for that car,” he explained as I looked for any hint that he might have been behind the neck pinch I felt before I crashed.

“I didn’t love the car that much,” I told him when I didn’t spot anything.

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