Luke said, "It's a privilege to drink your coffee, Sakura. Those famous cafes up in Manhattan cannot compare. I'd gladly pay for mine if only you'd let me."
"Don't be silly!" She waved, frowning at him.
Gosh, Luke thought, she still looks pretty even with the frown on her face.
Sakura turned her attention to her friend, Luke Hamilton, who happened to come into her gallery six months ago, looking to buy some paintings and photographs for his boss, who he'd never named. The boss liked to keep his identity anonymous, Luke had told her when she happened to ask him one day. Sakura didn't mind, just as long as this boss liked her paintings and photographs and bought them regularly. That was all she asked for, to keep her business afloat.
Then she turned her attention to Jane Hamilton. Her friend was in her late twenties, though she didn't know the exact number because Jane was very sensitive about the subject. Sakura, however, secretly knew she was still a virgin, as was she. To be honest, Sakura was rather surprised she was still single since she was quite pretty with pale-blond hair and bright-green eyes. In fact, her eyes were so like the emerald gemstone that if anyone were to look closer, they'd be surprised at how beautiful and lively they could be. If only Jane were to discard her thick, very unfashionable glasses and wear contact lenses instead, Sakura knew for certain men would fall at her feet.
Sakura watched as Jane sipped her coffee, this time very slowly, savoring the beautiful flavor.
"Now then, are you so very sure I'm allowed to come tomorrow?" Sakura asked suddenly. "I mean, I'm not bothering you or anything?"
"Of course," Jane put in immediately. "I'm an assistant of an assistant of Mr. Tachibana. I help organize everything. I'm the third boss behind the scene." Then she muttered to herself, "If only they recognize my talent."
Sakura didn't hear that last bit as she was too busy thinking about something else. She felt her heart do a somersault at the thought that tomorrow she'd be able to really see her mother, Haruka Tanaka. She licked her lip and said, "I promise I won't get into any mess. I mean, I won't interfere with anything because I know how hectic it is backstage before the show."
Jane nodded. "But you have to know if, and I mean only if, things get out of hand, I'll need your help?"
Sakura nodded. "I understand. Of course I'll help you in any way I can. Not that I know much about the backstage stuff though."
"The Princeton Hotel is quite big," Jane said absentmindedly, cocking her head to one side.
Sakura's heart skipped a beat at the mentioning of the Princeton Hotel. She knew the event would be taking place there. She also knew Nicolas Princeton was now the CEO of Princeton group. It was hard to miss since it was all over the news for a couple of weeks.
Sakura wondered if Nicolas would be attending the fashion event tomorrow. What about the rest of the brothers? Would they be there, too? God! She hoped not. However, Sakura had already made up her mind that come hell or high water, she'd be there to meet her biological mother in person. Nothing was going to stop her, not even the presence of the Princeton brothers--her seven adoptive brothers.
"I would imagine there'd be lots of people there." Jane continued. "Last I heard, there's going to be at least two thousand guests there to see Mr. Tachibana's spring-summer collections. Mind you, most of his collections are eveningwear, though there are some daywear and swimwear as well."
"He designs for men, too," Luke put in. "His taste is very top-notch. I was in his new department store a few weeks back with the boss." By the boss, he meant Sebastian Princeton.
"Only the rich and famous can afford his brand," Jane said matter-of-fact. "And we are certainly not the rich and famous."
"Don't you like Mr. Tachibana?" Sakura asked. "You're working for him."
Jane laughed. "Yes, of course I work for him."
Sakura had the sudden urge to ask Jane about her biological mother. She really couldn't help herself and blurted out, "Isn't there a woman named Haruka Tanaka working for Mr. Tachibana as well?"
Jane glanced at her friend, her eyes large. She slowly nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Though we all call her Ms. Ruka." She leaned toward Sakura as she added, "She won't tolerate anyone calling her anything else."
Sakura cocked her head to one side. "Really?"
Jane nodded again. "She's lovely but also very feisty. She likes men. The hotter, the better."
Sakura frowned at that. "Why doesn't she like anyone to call her by her real name?"
"Huh?" Then Jane laughed, wondering why her friend was so interested in Ms. Ruka, the famous Japanese stylist who had changed her name--actually she should say his name--from Jiro Tanaka to Haruka Tanaka. Ms. Ruka was a transgender after all, and why she'd decided to choose the exact same name as the well-known, wealthy Haruka Suzuki, the owner and designer of Jade Jewelry Co., was beyond her.
Then Jane thought of something rather interesting. There was something in Sakura Tanaka that reminded her of Haruka Suzuki. Perhaps it was in the way they walked, the way they talked, or even the way they did things. They were oddly similar. Then again, Jane thought that was of course stupid and brushed the very idea off her mind.
"You're being nosy, aren't you? Well, I don't blame you. If you happened to meet her, remember to always refer to her as a her and call her Ms. Ruka. Got it?"
Sakura didn't get it, but nodded anyway. She thought her biological mother sounded a bit weird, but then again, who was she to judge?
She decided to change the subject. "What's the inside gossip?"
Jane took another sip of her coffee and sighed. "Mr. Tachibana is totally at a loss. He's tearing his hair out trying to find eight perfect male models to cast for his new menswear collection."
Sakura cocked her head to one side. "But there are plenty of hot male models out there. Surely, it wouldn't be that hard, right?"
Jane laughed. "You don't know Mr. Tachibana. He's very specific. The title of his new collection is--get this--Young Men In The Business World."
"Whoa, that sounds like something," Sakura said.
"Yeah, if you ask me. He said those young, super-hot male models aren't real enough for him. He wants real businessmen. He especially wants young businessmen who have already accomplished so much as to earn at least a couple billion a year."
Luke laughed. He simply couldn't help himself. Once he'd gained his composure, he said, "Good luck with that."
Jane frowned. "What about your boss and his brothers? They're young, hot, and billionaires. And I heard from a very reliable source that Mr. Tachibana has been begging them to model for him."
"Naturally, they refused, of course," Luke put it mildly.
"Well," Jane said, finally finishing her very delicious cup of coffee. "He better find those eight male models soon, because the date for the release of the catalogue is in a few weeks' time. Not to mention the fact that some of those photos will be going into New Men's Magazine and Vogue next month, too."
"Sounds like a lot of hard work coming up," Luke said, putting his cup down.
"Yeah, maybe I'll get to have some fun in Hawaii," Jane said dreamily. She turned to Sakura, her green eyes large and brilliant. "That's where we'd be doing the photo shoots. Hot summer. Eveningwear. Office wear. Swimwear. Totally hot. Hot. Hot."
Sakura chuckled. She could see it, Jane having heaps of fun in Hawaii after a long day of hard work. Then maybe she'd even throw her glasses away, unbound her lovely blond hair, and wear a bikini. She'd absolutely turn heads--that Sakura was sure of.
It was fifteen minutes later when the brother and sister left, and Sakura returned to her studio. She stood, staring at the painting she'd started last spring back on St. Joseph Island. After that incident, after she'd left the island to start anew, she hadn't the heart to finish this particular painting. She'd left it sitting in the attic of the apartment for quite some time, almost a year in fact, letting it gather dust, until last week. She didn't know why, but she just wanted to finish it now. Hence, here it was, sitting in her studi
o, ready for her to complete the finishing touches.
She sat and took a deep breath as she eyed the unfinished painting. Even in its incompleteness, it still looked beautiful, at least to her anyway.
The painting was of the cherry blossom tree on St. Joseph Island. It was the very same tree she'd taken the photo of that day when she first reunited with the Princeton brothers. It was the very same tree she'd slept under and then awakened to find Darcy there with her. It was the very same tree Darcy had kissed her under. It was also the very same tree where she'd lain and cried her heart out when she'd found out Darcy had been in a relationship with Kate.
Her heart suddenly ached at the thought of him. She gritted her teeth as she felt tears burning within her eyes. No, she mustn't think about him. She mustn't. She'd tried so hard to forget about him, about them, Darcy and Sebastian, the two men who had stolen her heart last spring.
Why did I run away from them?
Sakura felt her heart thumping furiously within her chest. The reason? Because she loved them too much. Because she didn't want to hurt any of them. She'd known by choosing one, she would surely hurt the other. Then there was also the fact that she didn't want to cause conflict within the family, especially where Alaina and Daddy James was concerned.
It had been obvious that Alaina and Tara had never liked her and had done whatever they could to get rid of her from the family. She knew Daddy James loved her, but Sakura didn't want to be the one responsible for the rift between Daddy James and Alaina. With Sakura out of the picture, the family could live peacefully--that much Sakura knew--hence, she had left.
Then there was also the fact that Sakura herself had wanted to live her own life and find her biological mother. Those alone were reasons enough for her to leave the Princeton family. She'd known it was heartless of her to leave them without saying a word, but she also knew they wouldn't let her leave just like that if she'd told them.
Subconsciously, she touched the Sakura pendant on her necklace, caressing the pink gem.
Sakura, you've done the right thing, the little voice at the back of her head said.
With a nod of agreement, she picked up the brush and continued with her painting. She worked long and hard, only eating snacks when she was hungry. By midnight, she was finally finished. Yes, she thought, standing back and gazing at her masterpiece. She had done it. The painting of the Sakura tree was finished. Tears burned in her eyes as she gazed at her new baby.
"You're going to be mine forever," she murmured under her breath softly, lovingly. No one was going to steal this baby from her. That she'd make sure of.
Once her satiety for the painting was fulfilled, she moved forward and scribbled her initials, S.T., on the bottom right-hand side of the canvas.
"You're really done now," she said, satisfied with her initials claiming the painting. Then just to see what it'd look like on a wall, she lifted the canvas and took it into the gallery at the front of the building.
"Where should I put you?" she asked herself a moment later, looking around with interest. "Ah!" She rushed over to the featured wall near the front of the counter where anyone who walked in would immediately see. There she held it up and cocked her head to one side as she examined it with an artistic eye.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite see properly due to the fact that she was alone and couldn't possibly walk back to stand at a distance to inspect the painting. There was also the fact that her arms were quite short, and hence, she couldn't stand back to take a proper look either. Then she wondered if she should drill some holes in the wall and hang the painting just so she could take a good look at it. But it was getting rather late. She was tired, and she had to get up early the next day for the fashion event.
"Tomorrow morning," she said to herself. "I'll do it tomorrow morning." She'd rise early and put it up just so she could see what it really looked like. With that, she laid the painting on the floor, letting it rest against the wall. Then she rushed up the stairs, showered, and went to bed.
*
CHAPTER 3
Darcy Princeton, Knight of Darkness
Darcy found himself once again at St. Helena beach, surfing the big waves. But instead of surfing with his brothers, he was alone, all by himself, surfing but not surfing, and neither was he enjoying himself like he used to. There was something missing. It was as if he were a body without a soul, as if he were breathing but not really breathing, as if his heart kept beating but not really beating.
In the distance, he could see a storm brewing that looked as though it were heading straight toward him. Then he saw the waves--enormous waves--looming over him and then crashing down on him. He fought the current, fought so hard, fought until he was exhausted. Once he managed to reach the surface, he looked around, alone in the vast ocean.
Oh God! The ache within his heart. Why?
Then the scream penetrated his mind--loud, long, and echoing with agony and death. He saw her body falling and then... Splash!
"Sakura!"
He found himself in the angry sea once again, fighting to get to her, fighting to save her. The sea, however, refused him and crashed him off course, smashing him against the edge of a cliff.
*
"Sakura!" Darcy yelled her name, his voice hoarse with agony. Suddenly, he found himself sitting up, sweating and panting, his heart thumping hard and furious within his chest.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Darcy shut his eyes. Please calm down, you tormented beast. Please calm down, he told his heart. It was only a nightmare and nothing more.
Oh, how he ached to see that beautiful face again. How he ached to once again see those sparkling dark eyes, that long black hair, the petal-white skin, and those sensuous ruby-red lips. Those lips he'd kissed and sucked and licked.
Darcy threw himself back on the bed, his hand on top of his chest. Still, he could feel his heart thumping furiously beneath his breastbone where his hand rested, as if it were tormented, crying out for its long-lost love.
"Snow," he whispered under his breath. "My snow, where could you be?"
It had been almost one year since she'd decided to leave them, since she'd disappeared from their lives--from his life--and left him only a note that simply said:
I will always be your Snow.
I love you.
Sakura
Darcy turned to look at the alarm clock. It said 5:05 a.m. He sighed and turned his attention to the wall across from his bed. He gazed at the full-size poster of Snow White and the Seven Knights he'd designed two years ago. Back then, he hadn't a clue as to why he'd conjured up that beautiful character of Snow White. He'd always thought the idea of having an interactive game similar to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs would be a new and exciting project and had presented it to Hayden with enthusiasm and energy. It hadn't been until much later, when he'd met Sakura again at Mary and Peter's wedding, that he realized that was never the case.
Snow White had been ingrained in his mind long ago, since he'd first met seven-year-old Sakura.
Sakura had always been Snow to Darcy.
Since they'd released Snow White and the Seven Knights for the world to enjoy, it had gone viral, and Darcy found himself and Hayden had gone from an amateur to one of the top gaming entrepreneurs in the world. The game alone had brought them fame and success beyond belief. Since this last financial year, they'd made at least three billion each in dividends. Darcy, however, wasn't interested in the money. It had always been the creation and the energy and the hard work he'd put in that kept him in the business.
He got up and headed to the adjoining bathroom. Standing over the sink, he took off his shirt, exposing his fitted, toned, lean muscles that were taut with anxiety and tension. He splashed cold water on his face a couple times to clear his head. That felt much better, he thought and lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror.
The man staring back at him wasn't the same Darcy who had existed one year ago. This Darcy had matured both ph
ysically and mentally. His raven-black hair was stylishly cut, the thick locks nestling lovingly about his neck. The handsome face was now marked with the maturity of strong jawline, high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and firm lips that rarely smiled. Those mauve-grey eyes of his were now clearer, sharper, and more determined than ever, showing the world this was a man on top of the game, on top of the world. However, if one were to look closer, one would see those eyes were marked with darkness and torment, loneliness and loss.
Darcy was no longer the pretty boy of the Princetons. He was now the dark knight, utterly dangerous and utterly mysterious. That was why so many women flocked to him, flirted with him, and even dared to ask him out. That was why so many women dreamed of becoming his girlfriend, his wife, and dared to stalk him.
Darcy, however, paid them no heed and went about his days working hard on his creations. By night, he'd feel his heart ache as he stared at the hundreds of photos lining the walls of his room. Photos of him and his beloved Snow kissing in the woods, the photo he'd secretly taken that day when they'd kissed under the cherry blossom tree.
He moved his hand to touch his breastbone beneath the muscular chest, caressing the exotic tattoo of the Sakura flowers that intertwined and wrapped themselves around the word "Snow" that only he could read and understand.
Mindlessly, he gazed at the tattoo he'd gotten nine months ago. It was a symbol of Sakura, of his Snow. He wanted to imprint her within his heart always and forever. Hence, every time he stared at the tattoo, he'd see her within his mind's eye, and his heart would ache for her, for her love, for her warmth, for her kiss, for them to be together.
"Snow," he whispered, his fingers caressing the tattoo. Instantly, his heart ached even more, and he had to take a deep breath to control himself. Then he splashed more cold water on his face to wake himself up. Once he was done, he headed out the door of his bedroom, out the door of the penthouse apartment he shared with his brothers, and into the private garden outside on the rooftop of the building.
Alone, he tilted his head, allowing the morning breeze to caress his skin as he gazed off at the orange glow of the sun just rising over the city of New York. A gentle breeze swirled around him and petals of cherry blossoms touched his cheek, attracting his attention. He brought his fingers to feel it. Something deep within him stirred. He closed his eyes and then he was there again--little Darcy resting his head on Sakura's lap as he lay there on the grass, his eyes large, watching her as she stroked his hair.