The evening air was still, wrapping around the Bonten mansion like a silent promise.

Y/N stood in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, staring at the dresses sprawled across the king-sized bed.

Each one was exquisite in its own way. Silks, satins, delicate lace. Expensive fabrics in rich colors, all carefully selected to mold her into someone else. Someone meant to stand beside Mikey.

Her fingers hovered over the sleek black gown Kokonoi had chosen, before trailing to the deep red dress Ran had practically drooled over. But it was the champagne colored one that caught her attention the most.

It shimmered even under the soft light, elegant and understated yet undeniably stunning. Unlike the others, it didn't feel as suffocating, almost as if it was meant for someone who still carried traces of softness in their life.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached for it.

She hesitated only for a second before slipping out of her casual clothes, letting the cool fabric glide over her skin. The dress molded to her frame effortlessly, the material light yet decadent, cascading over her form like liquid gold.

She turned toward the mirror, smoothing her hands over the bodice.

It was beautiful.

And it terrified her.

The knock on her door was firm but unhurried.

Before she could react, the handle turned, and the door eased open.

Mikey stood in the doorway, his presence instantly filling the space with something heavy, something inescapable.

Y/N's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his gaze. His dark eyes swept over her, lingering on the dress, then shifting to the ones still laid out on the bed.

"Dinner's ready." Mikey said in a low voice, softer than she expected.

Y/N swallowed, forcing herself to breathe. "Okay."

But Mikey didn't move.

Instead, he took a step inside, closing the door behind him.

The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken words.

Then, slowly, he walked forward, his movements deliberate, as if he was committing every detail to memory. His gaze burned into her, intense yet tender, as if he had been waiting to see her like this for a long, long time.

Y/N clenched her fists. "What?"

Mikey's lips quirked at that, but there was no humor in it, only something aching, something unreadable.

"You look beautiful."

Her heart stuttered.

It had been years since she had heard those words from him. Years since he had looked at her like this, like she was something precious, something he couldn't afford to lose.

Y/N exhaled sharply, turning away. "It's just a dress."

A pause.

Then, the sound of slow, measured steps.

She stiffened as she felt the heat of his presence right behind her, his breath ghosting against the bare skin of her shoulder.

"It's not just the dress," Mikey murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her pulse hammered in her ears as she felt him reach out, his fingers grazing the fabric of the gown where it rested against her waist.

He wasn't touching her, not really, but the proximity, the weight of his gaze, the sheer familiarity of it all, it was suffocating.

Y/N swallowed. "What do you want, Mikey?"

He was quiet for a moment, before his fingers finally, brushed against her.

A ghost of a touch.

His hand settled against her waist, warm and steady, like it belonged there.

Her breath caught.

Then, his forehead dipped forward, resting gently against the curve of her neck.

The air between them crackled with something raw, something too fragile to name.

"I never stopped," he murmured.

Y/N's fingers curled against the fabric of her dress. "Stopped what?"

Lifting his head slightly, Mikey turned his face toward her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin.

"Loving you."

Y/N froze.

Her heart clenched so violently it hurt.

The words were soft, almost like a confession, but there was nothing hesitant about them. No uncertainty. Just truth.

And yet, it was a truth she didn't know how to accept.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Mikey pulled back slightly, his fingers brushing against her wrist this time, his touch featherlight yet grounding.

"You can hate me all you want," he murmured, his voice dangerously close to something vulnerable. "But that won't change anything."

Y/N clenched her jaw, willing herself to push him away, to create distance, to remind herself of everything he had taken from her.

But her body betrayed her.

Because instead of moving, instead of fighting, she just stood there, trapped in the warmth of his presence, drowning in the weight of his words.

And Mikey, as if sensing her hesitation, allowed himself one last indulgence.

A whisper of a touch against her knuckles.

A lingering moment.

Then, he stepped back.

The distance felt colder than it should have.

He exhaled slowly, composing himself. "Dinner," he repeated, his voice quieter this time.

Y/N forced herself to nod.

Mikey lingered for only a second more before turning toward the door, but just as he reached for the handle, he hesitated.

Without looking back, he spoke one last time.

"That dress suits you."

Then, he was gone.

And Y/N was left standing there, staring at her reflection in the mirror, wondering why her heart still ached the way it did.

She exhaled sharply, pushing a hand through her hair before turning back to the dresses spread across the bed. They were beautiful, luxurious, carefully chosen to fit a life that wasn't hers.

With a sigh, she reached for a silk nightgown instead. It was soft against her skin, the smooth fabric cascading down her frame in gentle folds. Unlike the gowns from earlier, this one was comfortable, simple and light. Something that felt like her.

She wanted to pretend, just for a moment, that she was still the same person she had always been.

But deep down, she knew better.

After a final glance in the mirror, she padded toward the door, her bare feet barely making a sound against the polished marble floors.

Dinner.

She needed to focus on that. On Shin.

She made her way downstairs, the scent of warm food filling the vast dining hall before she even stepped inside. The room was grand, high ceilings, intricate chandeliers, a table long enough to seat a dozen men. It was the kind of luxury she still wasn't used to, no matter how much time she spent here.

Seated at the table were the usual figures of Bonten.

Mikey sat at the head, his posture was relaxed but his eyes were sharp, scanning the conversation around him with quiet authority.

To his left was Kakucho, calm and composed as always, his scarred eye giving him an air of quiet intimidation. Across from him sat Sanzu, lazily twirling a knife between his fingers, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

But none of them were what caught Y/N's attention.

Because there, sitting in a chair far too big for him, was Shin.

Her son.

The only thing keeping her grounded in this world of crime and power.

His eyes brightened the moment he saw her. "Mama!"

Y/N felt the tension in her chest ease. She walked over, placing a gentle hand on his head as she sat beside him. "Did you behave?"

Shin grinned. "Kaku helped me cut my food! And Sanzu said I should learn how to use a knife!"

Y/N shot Sanzu a glare, and the pink-haired man only grinned wider, resting his chin on his palm. "What? Kid's gotta learn eventually."

Kakucho sighed. "I told him no."

"Boring," Sanzu drawled, but there was no real argument in his tone.

Y/N shook her head before turning back to Shin, cutting his food into smaller pieces before helping him eat. It was an old habit, one she hadn't let go of even as he insisted he was 'a big boy now.'

For a moment, things felt... normal.

But then the conversation shifted.

She wasn't paying much attention at first, too focused on making sure Shin ate properly.

The men were discussing business, Bonten affairs, things she wanted no part of.

Until the room fell silent.

She looked up, realizing all their eyes were on her.

Her stomach twisted. "What?"

It was Mikey who spoke first, his voice even. "We're attending a ball next weekend."

Y/N frowned. "And?"

Kakucho was the one to answer. "It's a birthday celebration for an important figure. Someone we're planning to negotiate with."

"Big party," Sanzu added, waving his hand. "Lots of drinks, lots of rich bastards who think they run the world." His grin sharpened. "We'll be the ones actually in control by the end of it."

Y/N didn't like where this was going.

She glanced at Mikey. "Why are you telling me this?"

Mikey met her gaze, unreadable as always. "Because you're coming with us."

Y/N tensed. "No, I'm not."

Sanzu snickered. "Called it."

Mikey didn't waver. "You are."

Y/N shook her head. "I have to take care of Shin."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Mikey exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "You don't have to."

Something in his voice made her stomach drop.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

Mikey leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but firm. "I've already enrolled him in a school."

Y/N froze.

The air felt heavier now, suffocating. She could barely process his words.

"What?"

Mikey didn't blink. "It's a private school. The best in the city. He'll have top security, the best teachers. He'll be safe."

Y/N's grip on the fork in her hand tightened. "You enrolled my son in a school without telling me?"

Mikey's expression remained unreadable. "I did what's best for him."

Her heart pounded. "That wasn't your decision to make."

Mikey's jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "You want him to have a future, don't you?"

That struck a nerve.

Of course, she did. That was all she had ever wanted.

But this wasn't about school. It was about control.

She looked down at Shin. He was happily eating, oblivious to the tension between them.

Mikey had backed her into a corner.

If she refused, she risked denying her son an opportunity, something that could give him a stable life, something she had always dreamed of for him.

But if she agreed...

She would be giving in.

To Mikey. To Bonten. To everything she had fought against.

The silence stretched.

Then, Mikey spoke again, softer this time. "Come to the ball, Y/N."

It wasn't a demand this time. It was something else.

Something dangerously close to a request.

Y/N exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her.

No matter what she chose, she knew one thing for certain.

Mikey had no intention of letting her go.