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Ilya’s ears turn bright red. He glares at the wall, defensive to the bone. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. The lady outside the lobby said they were for recovery. Take them or I’ll throw them in the biohazard bin.”

“Give them to me.”

He extends his arms, placing the stems into my right hand so he doesn’t bump my bandaged shoulder.

“Thank you, my prince,” I murmur.

I lower the bouquet onto the sheet, reach out with my good arm, catch his fingers, then I drag him down.

“Kento—”

He gasps, but he doesn’t pull away. He catches himself on the edge of the mattress, then I slide my fingers into his hair and pull his mouth down onto mine.

In front of everyone.

***

It takes another twenty minutes for the room to clear out.

Alexei leads Marco toward the cafeteria, and Dimitri drags Ilya into the hall. Ilya doesn’t go easily. He lingers by the foot of the bed, his green eyes hyper-vigilant, until I catch his hand and promise him I won’t spontaneously combust while he’s thirty feet away.

Rei doesn’t leave.

He stands near the rolling tray table where he unpacked the food. Slowly, he pulls the vinyl guest chair closer to the edge of the mattress and sits down.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

I push myself an inch higher against the pillows so I can meet his eyes. “Yeah,” I say softly. “We can talk, Rei.”

“Since when have you been with them? The yakuza. Dimitri told me. How long, Kento?”

“Since I was little.”

Rei flinches as if I’d struck him. His lips part, trembling. “How…?”

“Rei,” I murmur, my tone dropping into a protective flatline. “You don’t want to know this. Trust me.”

“Don’t do that.” A tear breaks over his lower lash line and tracks down his pale cheek. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I’m not a child anymore, Kento. I deserve to know the truth about what happened to us.”

“Dad got into debt.”

Rei blinks, thrown off balance. “What?”

“When he started the firm, he wanted to expand faster than the commercial banks would allow,” I explain. “He took out private loans from Kenji Kazuma’s lending syndicates. Millions of yen. He thought the port redevelopment would make him untouchable. But the shipping laws changed, the contracts fell through, and he couldn’t pay the interest. Let alone the principal.”

Rei’s brow furrows in confusion. “So… they threatened him?”

“They gave him a choice,” I say. “Kenji Kazuma had two sick children. He needed someone young enough to train and legally adopt into the syndicate to keep the line secure.”

The color drains from Rei’s face.

“Kenji offered to erase the entire debt,” I continue, “on one condition. Dad had to give him a son.”

Rei stops breathing. “No…”

“You were younger than me, Rei. You were a baby. You wouldn’t have survived a single week in that house. So Dad gave me to them.”

“No,” Rei whispers, shaking his head, his hands coming up to clutch at his temples. “No, but Dad… he… he wouldn’t. He loved us. He was good to us!”