Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

SAZUKI

I saw Dejonae leave the talent show right after Niko’s performance.

It was just a glimpse of her soft cheek and a flash of brown eyes, but the mere impression of her sent my heart into overdrive.

I did not realize I was standing and staring at her until Ashanti tugged on my arm and, sheepishly, warned me to sit because I was blocking the view of other parents.

After the talent show, Ashanti suggested we go out for a ‘family dinner’, and I was relieved when Niko insisted on joining her friends at the farmhouse for ice cream.

Niko’s excitement after performing live and receiving the audience’s adoration made her forget her earlier anger with me.

She’s still in a happy mood when I make her breakfast the next morning.

“Dad,” she signs, “can Beth come over today? She wants to learn piano.”

“You’re going to teach Beth the piano?” I arch both eyebrows.

Niko nods happily.

I smile at her and nod. “Tell her to let her parents call me. We will arrange it.”

Niko pumps her fist.

While we are enjoying our miso soup, there is a knock on the door.

Ashanti breezes past me, her arms laden with grocery bags. “Sazuki, you made miso soup again?” Her laughter claws at me. “You’re in America now. You can mix it up with a little bacon and eggs.”

“Bacon is unhealthy,” I say.

“But it’s delicious.” She sets the groceries on the counter and kisses Niko’s head. “Hi, baby.”

Niko waves.

I close the door and step wearily into the kitchen. “Ashanti, can I speak to you?”

“You sure can,” she says brightly, unpacking a box of sugary cereal, milk, and dairy products from her bags.

“In private.”

Niko’s perceptive gaze darts between the two of us.

Ashanti’s smile falters for a second, but it quickly bounces back. She motions to the groceries. “Let me just put these up first.”

I do not wish to argue with her in front of Niko, so I wait until she is finished with the task and then gesture to my office.

“Niko,” I sign, “do your homework in the meantime.”

“Dad, it’s Saturday,” she gestures, rolling her eyes.

I frown at her. “Do you plan to do your homework the night before it is due?”

She sighs but dutifully gets up and plods to her room.

Ashanti smirks at me. “She’s so cute. You know, I posted her video online. Everyone was impressed. A lot of parents of deaf children wanted to know how they could learn music too. I pointed them all to your foundation. You’re going to have a crowd of people wanting to sign up when you officially open.”

“Mm.” I make a non-committal sound in my throat.

“When are you going to open officially?” Ashanti prods.

“Soon.”

Adam and I are satisfied with the MTB’s performance. Niko is not the only music student who is seeing a marked improvement in their lessons. Ninety percent of the students have said that they prefer playing music with the MTB than without it. The teachers have also expressed their approval of the device.

With the rest of the MTBs stockpiled in our warehouse and the demand for instructors nearly crashing our website, I believe it is time to enter our last phase—officially opening the foundation to the public.

There is only one important thing I need to do before then.

“Well, don’t talk my ear off, Ryo.” Her laughter is nervous. Her eyes dart between mine as if she is trying to gauge what I am thinking.

I keep my face blank. “Please, sit.”

Her cheeks cave in. “Is something wrong?”

I motion to the chairs again.

She hesitantly sinks into one. I take the other.

“Ashanti,” I fold my hands together, “do you know what oyakoko means?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide.

While living in Japan, Ashanti had studied the language in order to communicate well with my mother and to move about on her own. I am not surprised, though, that she has not retained memory of the language.

“It means filial piety.”

“Right. It’s taking care of your parents even in their old age. It’s a law or something, right?”

“It stems from Confucian philosophy. It is one of the values that was ingrained in me when I was a young boy. I did not have a choice. Just as I was born a Sazuki and so I was born into music, I was also born into this way of thinking.”

“Okay…” Her eyebrows clench as she tries to guess where I am going.

“It is my wish to grow Niko in this way as well.”

“You don’t want her to throw us into nursing homes? Is that what you’re saying?” The weak smile on her lips tells me she wants to diffuse the tension with jokes.

I do not smile. “I want her to respect you and to take care of you. This is the expectation I hold and the values that I have imparted to her. She has a duty to her family, of which you are a part of by blood. This cannot and will never change, just as I cannot change the line of my ancestors. I will always be a Sazuki. And Niko will always belong to you.”

“What about us?” Her voice turns quiet and vulnerable. “Does your family duty extend to me too?”

I take a moment to choose my words. When I speak, it is firmly but carefully. “You will always hold an important part in my life. You can rest assured in this. I will always care for and respect you. Not only for your sake, but for Niko’s.” I hold her gaze to ensure that she is listening. “But we cannot function as anything more than friends and co-parents.”

“Ryo—”

“Ashanti,” I stop her before she can argue, “my stance has not changed since that talk by the pool. I would prefer for us to maintain the current agreement.”

“Which is what?” She shoots to her feet. Her eyes are thunderous.

“That we remain separated. That we work together for Niko’s sake.”

She strides to the door in a frustrated march. Stopping a few paces before the exit, she fists her hands.

Her anger stumps me. I wait quietly, giving her the chance to gather her thoughts.

There is silence.

A muffled sigh.

And then she speaks.

“I never had a father. No one in my neighborhood did. I would see sitcoms with the dad sitting at the table, being there for the kids, providing for the home and it felt like a fairy tale to me. It felt so unreal to have a dad, much less one that cared.”

She turns to look at me. “Then I met you and that fairy tale had come true. You didn’t know me well but you took me into your home. You stood up to your parents for me. You promised to take care of our child and always be there for her. You promised to care for me too.”

Ashanti breathes out. “I didn’t know how to deal with having someone who wanted to take responsibility for me. It wasn’t perfect, but if I’d been a little more mature, I would have realized that no marriage is. You were trying. You cared for us. You wanted to be a better man for us and I didn’t appreciate that.”

“It was not meant to be.”

“No, but it was. There was a time when you loved me, Ryo. Call it sexual love or love out of convenience, but you did.”

“I did.”

“Then how are you so sure that you won’t love me again?”

I stare right into her distraught brown eyes. “Because I am truly, genuinely, and deeply in love with someone else. I can no longer give you the parts of me that you are asking for because they do not belong to me anymore. They belong to her.”

Ashanti’s face crumples in pain.

I shift my gaze away. To give her privacy to hurt. But also to get my own stubborn pride under control. How is it that I can so easily express my feelings to anyone but the person they are meant for?

I hear Ashanti take a deep breath. When I glance at her again, her bottom lip is trembling, but she is otherwise composed.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay for breakfast. Um,” her nostrils flare as she inhales, “I guess I won’t be able to drop in like this in the future?”

“For now, I believe it would be best to stick to the appointed custody agreement.”

She clears her throat, looks me dead in the eye and says, “I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you, Ryo.”

From the foolish way I have been acting, I am not sure Dejonae would agree with the sentiment.

It is now time to correct that.

The doorbell rings.

Niko immediately hops up from the couch. She had been monitoring the outdoor camera since I gave my agreement to have her friends over.

I refrain from giving an instruction to ’slow down’. She is already halfway to the door and I doubt she would listen even if I could sign to her.

Niko throws the door open. She and Beth collide in a tangle of arms, legs and smiles.

The boys are behind her.

Bailey seems eager to jump into the huddle.

Micheal glances away, looking uninterested.

Niko insisted on inviting Belle too. Though she is much younger, Niko claimed that she did not want to leave the little girl out.

My daughter has a bleeding heart.

I do not know who she inherited that from.

As the kids race past me to go and play in Niko’s room, I notice that it is only the fathers on my doorstep.

“Did the women have another secret meeting?” I ask, noting Alistair’s aggravated expression.

“No,” he says brusquely.

“They sent us on another mission,” Darrel, the therapist and the quietest of the men, speaks. His eyes are as green as matcha powder and it is strangely unnerving to be on the receiving end of his gaze.

“Let’s make this quick,” Max Stinton says. He glances at his watch.

“I agree,” Hadyn agrees. He is Vanya’s husband, if I recall correctly.

As she is the model who receives more attention in the spotlight, much of the American news refers to him as Vanya Beckford’s husband. Although he is a rich heir and influential in his own right, Hadyn does not seem to mind.

My eyes whip back to Hadyn and I frown. “Did you bring your infant?”

“Oh, no. I’m here for the intervention.”

Did he break into a language other than English? “Intervention? I do not understand.”

“Our wives think that you need help,” Alistair grumbles.

“Help with what?”

“‘Getting your head out of your butt-crack’.” Hadyn lifts a hand. “Those were Vanya’s exact words.”

I would be offended if I still was not so confused.

“They had wine, group hugs, and all kinds of talks about feelings,” Max Stinton growls. “But we can skip all the emotional bull and get to the heart of this. The bottom line is that Dejonae wants to trust you and needs some kind of assurance that you love her and will only love her for the rest of your life.”

“So let’s come up with a plan to show her that and then go home,” Alistair finishes.

“I do not need your help,” I say stubbornly.

“Look, Sazuki, I don’t know how they did things in Japan, but you don’t get to wiggle your way out of this pep talk, no matter where you’re from,” Hadyn warns. “Trust me.”

“How I handle my relationship is not your concern.” I scowl at their insolence.

“Dejonae is Vanya’s friend, which means it is exactly our concern.”

I squint at Hadyn.

The way they are all staring at me, one would think Dejonae was their biological sister.

Darrel speaks calmly, “You’re right to mistrust our intentions. And you’re also right to say that we shouldn’t involve ourselves in your relationship.”

“If you know this, then why are you still standing here?”

“It’s obvious we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t care.”

Alistair clears his throat. “Or at least, if our wives didn’t care.”

“We are not here to threaten you,” Darrel says. “Just to offer a warning. According to Sunny, Dejonae is so torn up about you that she is going to drop out of school and take a year off.”

I stiffen.

Drop out of school?

Should I release her from the foundation and let her finish her graduation project without my involvement?

I remain tight-lipped.

Darrel and Alistair exchange glances.

Hadyn shakes his head as if to say he’s not worth it.

Darrel looks disappointed by my stubbornness.

Collectively, they start to walk away.

What are you doing, Sazuki? Do you want to lose Dejonae forever?

I call them back. “What do you suggest?”

Hadyn spins first.

Max Stinton stares at me with cold, assessing eyes.

Darrel is the one that speaks. “Move on what your heart is saying.”

“You might be a private man who keeps things close to the chest but, in this scenario, it doesn’t hurt to go big and public,” Hadyn adds.

My jaw clenches. “I know what I will do.”

“Our work here is done,” Alistair says. He checks his watch. “Not bad. You’re as smart as you look, Sazuki.”

Hadyn claps my back.

Darrel nods.

Stinton does the same.

The men leave my house as abruptly as they’d arrived.

I watch them get into their fancy cars and drive off. In a normal circumstance, I would have chased them away for daring to intervene in my private matters.

But they are Dejonae’s people.

Her family.

Even if they share no blood.

And now, I finally have an idea—a way to remind Dejonae that she is my family too.