Chapter 6: He Knows Things

Aizen's POV

I firmly held Desiree against her seat, her body tensed beneath my touch, refusing to yield. Despite her outward calmness, her eyes betrayed a storm of emotions, icy and unyielding. 

Desiree's tone dripped with boredom as she questioned me. "What?" 

I shot her a glare, my grip tightening on her wrist. "Why didn't you inform me you were meeting with my father?" I demanded, struggling to maintain my composure. "You should've called or texted."

"It was just lunch, Aizen," she retorted, attempting to free her hand from my grasp. "It's not like he'll pry into our past. He just wanted to chat, that's all." She sighed in exasperation, shaking her head incredulously. "Are you afraid I'd betray you?"

I'm worried about you, idiot. If my father figures it all out, he might lash out and murder everyone you know. 

I released her and shifted my gaze out the window. 

Desiree's hand gripped my wrist, pulling my attention back to her. "Hey," she said, her eyes serious. "Don't you trust me?"

Trust? Trust is everything to me. I doubt she'd willingly betray me, yet there's a lingering uncertainty. She fears the depths of my power, that much is clear. As for trusting her… I'm not entirely sure. She once promised to never leave my side no matter what I did… But she left anyway, moving far from my reach. So, I'm not sure I can trust her when she forgot that promise so easily. 

"I know you wouldn't betray me," I stated, a hint of assurance in my tone. 

Desiree's eyes bore into mine, unyielding. "So why are you making such a big deal out of it?" she challenged. 

I shrugged, nonchalant. "It's not about that," I countered, my dismissiveness apparent. "Just give me a heads-up next time. And don't gossip with my father. I don't need him nagging me about how I should treat you." 

Desiree nodded, subtly distancing herself from me. Arms folded across her chest, she gazed out of the window, absorbing the sights of Tokyo. The tension between us was palpable, hanging heavy in the air. 

I haven't been home for a while. The night we settled into the estate, I came straight from our "business" dealings, covered in blood from head to toe. I didn't think she'd still be awake when I got home, nearly catching me in the act. That close call prompted my decision to reside in Tokyo, keeping my double life hidden from her prying eyes. 

"Are you angry?" I inquired, my tone deceptively calm. 

"What?" she replied, avoiding my gaze. 

I gently grasped her wrist and chin, tilting her head to meet my eyes. "Are you angry?" I pressed. 

"No," came her curt response. 

Lies. 

"Are you sad?" I prodded further. 

"No," she shot back. "Can you stop annoying me?"

"How am I annoying you?"I teased, pinching her cheek 

attempting to break free from my grasp. 

"I thought you missed me," I taunted, pulling her closer until her face met my chest, further stoking her frustration. "Last time we were in this car, you lamented how my absence would leave you lonely."

"Fine," she snapped, relenting. "I'm angry."

I playfully poked her belly, eliciting a sharp reaction as her nails dug into my wrist. Chuckling, I repeated the gesture. "Since you missed me enough to get angry, I'll make it up to you tonight," I declared. "I'll put a baby in you to keep you company while I'm away on business." 

It was obviously a lie meant to amuse the driver, but she took it far too seriously. Her flushed face betrayed a mixture of embarrassment and anger, a sight both amusing and endearing. I could practically feel her longing to strike me. 

"I don't want to have a baby at twenty-one," Desiree retorted, her nails digging into my skin with increasing force. In translation, what she meant was 'We have a fucking contract and you can't touch me!'

I smirked, drawing her face closer. "So, when do you want to start our little family?" I asked with feigned innocence, knowing it would provoke her. With deliberate intent, I trailed my hand along her thigh, eliciting a shudder from her. "Will you have my baby at twenty-five? I'm sure we'll be ready by then." It was fun teasing her like this. She's like a grumpy cat. 

"No," Desiree glared, attempting to push my head away, but her efforts were futile against my strength. 

I chuckled at her futile resistance. 

"Stop talking," she demanded, her tone firm. "You're making me and the driver cringe in embarrassment. You're gonna get us into a car accident, you know?" 

I gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, savoring the charged silence enveloping us. There's a twisted pleasure in getting under her skin, stirring up that blazing fury she directs at me. It's like a game, seeing how far I can push her before she snaps. But amidst her rage, there's something undeniably captivating about her. 

I revel in her reactions—the daggers she shoots with her eyes, the flush of her cheeks when she's on the brink of exploding. And yet, amidst her anger, there's a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability that draws me in, making me want to peel back the layers of her facade. 

But it's the moments of warmth—the rare smiles, the infectious laughter—that I secretly cherish. In those fleeting instances, I glimpse a side of her that transcends our usual banter, a side that I can't help but admire. 

"I was joking," I say, releasing her with a playful smirk. "Don't be angry, Princess. I missed you."

She looked at me with disgust. 

Undeterred, I flash her a charming grin, reaching for her hand and pressing a soft kiss to it. "I hate being away from you."

"I'm tired," she declared, her gaze averted. "I'm going to sleep/ Don't disturb me."

I playfully yanked her towards me, allowing her head to rest on my lap despite the death glare she shot my way. "I promise I won't disturb you," I assured her, gently stroking her head. 

Desiree groaned in resignation, conceding defeat as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

The car ride was surprisingly smooth, and before long, we arrived at the estate. I carried Desiree in my arms, careful not to disturb her peaceful sleep. As I entered her room, her pet greeted me warmly. Gently, I placed Desiree at the center of her bed and draped a blanket over her body. 

"What am I doing?" I groaned in frustration, questioning my own actions. I reminded myself of the practical reasons why I chose her as my wife. She was the logical choice, and I needed to prove to myself that I didn't harbor any feelings for her. But why did I find myself caring so much? Why did I appreciate so many things about her when she often drove me to the brink of insanity? 

I was just about to leave when Desiree's hand reached out and grasped my wrist. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a mixture of hesitation and determination. "I want to ask you something," she said, her cheeks flushed as she sat up. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

She paused, visibly conflicted. "I..." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding her expression. 

I gently took her hand in mine, urging her to continue. "What is it?" I pressed, my tone encouraging.

After a moment, Desiree let out a sigh, gathering her courage. "Why does the Chairman know so much about me?" she finally asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.

What do you mean? Did my father say something? Damn it… I should've come sooner than I did.

"He knows things…" she explained, "Things I never mentioned… Things we never told him when we told him about our back story."

Shit!

"Ignore it," I said. 

"Fine," she responded curtly, turning away and settling back down. "You should go. The drive back to Tokyo might take a while. Best to avoid traffic." 

"Do you want me to go?" I asked. Deep down, I hoped for the opposite. 

She remained silent, hugging one of her pillows tightly beneath the blanket. 

Without another word, I lay down beside her, closing my eyes. 

Desiree shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not making a baby with you! Go away!" she almost shrieked, surprising me and eliciting a laugh. Her outburst caught me off guard, breaking the tension between us. 

I chuckled, lifting the blanket to unveil her face. "That's not why I'm here," I said with a playful grin, still amused by her reaction. "Pervert!"

"You were the one who said that in the car!" she argued, retreating beneath the blanket once more. 

I lifted it again, meeting her with a serious gaze. "I would never force you to have sex with me,"I said firmly. "I tease you and joke around, but I wouldn't cross that line. I may have my faults, but I draw the line with respect. I'm a monster, but I'm not that kind of monster."

"You're not a monster," she says almost soothingly. ALMOST. 

I smiled. 

"You're the devil," she clarified, glaring at me. 

You're so mean, Desiree. 

"Fuck it," I cussed, wrapping my arms around her. "It's punishment time." She squirmed in my grasp, struggling to break free. "Relax," I insisted, tightening my embrace. "I'm just gonna hold you. It's been a long week, and I'm exhausted. You're the closest thing I've got to a girlfriend right now, so just stay put." 

"Asshole," she grumbled, eventually yielding and stilling herself. With a tired yawn, she shut her eyes. "Don't get used to this."

Before long, we both drifted off to sleep.