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Chapter 21 – The Event on the History Supreme
The Horikita family, along with Ryuuen and his men, stepped off the small boat and onto the massive yacht. The moment they boarded, their eyes widened in shock. The History Supreme was unlike anything they had ever seen — golden railings shimmered under the lights, and guests dressed in elegance mingled beneath chandeliers made of crystal.
Ryuuen smirked, tilting his head toward Manabu.
"See you around. Enjoy the night," he said before walking away with his bodyguards, blending into the high-class crowd.
Left alone, Manabu straightened his suit.
"I'll go and introduce our company to some potential investors," he said.
Their father nodded. "We'll look around and see if any old friends are here."
Suzune smiled faintly. "Alright. I'll stay here for a bit."
She found a quiet corner near the edge of the deck, the sound of waves and distant music filling the air. Everything around her sparkled — laughter, clinking glasses, whispered deals — but she felt small among the giants of the business world.
Then, a group of young men noticed her.
"Well, well," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Aren't you the woman whose family made that tiny deal with Mr. Ayanokoji? I can't believe even small-time people get invited now."
The others laughed. Suzune stayed silent, her expression calm, though she felt a twinge of unease. She knew people like them — arrogant, entitled, and dangerous to cross.
Another young man, clearly their leader, leaned closer with a smirk.
"You're not bad-looking," he said. "Why don't you come to my room? Maybe I'll give your family company a better deal."
His friends chuckled darkly. Suzune's patience snapped — she rose from her seat and turned to leave.
"I'm not interested," she said firmly.
The young man's smile disappeared. His eyes darkened as he grabbed her wrist tightly.
"How dare you say no to me?" he hissed. "Do you even know who I am? I'm Bonta Tanaka, of the Tanaka family!"
Suzune struggled to pull free. "Let go of me. I said I'm not interested."
One of his underlings stepped forward, shouting, "Watch your tone! You're disrespecting the young master!"
She wrenched her hand loose, glaring coldly. "Respect is earned, not demanded."
Bonta's face twisted in rage. He raised his hand to slap her—
—but before the blow could land, another hand caught his wrist in mid-air.
Everyone froze.
A familiar calm voice broke the silence.
"That's enough," Ayanokoji said, his eyes cold and sharp like steel.
The air around them turned heavy. The young masters stepped back instinctively, and even Bonta's arrogance wavered as Ayanokoji's gaze fixed on him — expressionless, yet carrying the quiet authority of someone untouchable.
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