In his room, Haruto stood with his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His breath was heavy, like a man running out of control. The silence of the evening was suddenly broken when he grabbed the glass on his desk and threw it against the wall.
Crash! The glass exploded into tiny sharp pieces that scattered across the floor.
"Emi!" Haruto shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice cracked with rage and pain. "Why would you do that?! Why… because of that loser Kenji?!"
His chest rose and fell heavily. His black hair, usually neat, now stuck to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were red, wet, burning with anger that refused to cool down. He kicked the chair near his desk, sending it rolling and smashing into the wall.
"I did everything—everything in my power to cut him off from your life!" he screamed. His voice echoed in the big empty room. "I planned, I worked, I watched every move… all for you! And still, still you choose him over me?! Haahhh… haaaaaaahhh!"
Haruto's voice broke into a painful cry. He grabbed books from the shelf and threw them down. Pages flew everywhere, dancing in the air before falling slowly on the ground. He slammed his fists on the wooden table again and again until his knuckles started bleeding.
"Why, Emi?! Tell me why!" he shouted, his voice hoarse now, but he didn't stop. "Because of Kenji? Because of that pathetic, useless man?!"
He grabbed the framed picture of him and Emi from his desk. His hands shook as he stared at it for a moment, his jaw tightening.
Then, with a scream, he smashed it to the ground. The frame shattered, the glass cutting into his palm, but Haruto didn't even feel the pain.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!" His scream was long, deep, almost animal-like. His body trembled with rage and sorrow mixed together.
Suddenly, the door burst open. His father, Masahiro Yamamoto, the old man with white hair and a wrinkled face, stormed inside.
"What the hell are you doing, Haruto?!" his father shouted. His deep, heavy voice filled the room.
But Haruto didn't stop. He pushed over the lamp, tore the curtains, and punched the wall so hard that blood smeared on it.
"Emi! Emi! Emi!" Haruto kept screaming her name, his voice breaking like a child crying out for something lost.
Masahiro's face twisted in anger and pain. "You fool! You stupid boy! You shame me, you shame this family!" He cursed and shouted at his son, but his voice cracked too. Because deep down, there was one thing Masahiro could not fight against—his weakness, his only son.
He saw Haruto breaking down, saw his body trembling and his eyes filled with madness. His anger turned into something else. His voice broke, and suddenly the powerful father, the head of a great company, looked helpless.
"Haruto…" Masahiro whispered, his voice softer now, almost trembling.
But Haruto didn't hear. He screamed again, his body collapsing to his knees. He punched the floor once more, blood dripping.
Masahiro stepped forward, his face red, tears threatening to fall from his old eyes. Seeing his son like this, destroyed by Emi and Kenji's departure, broke something inside him too. His knees weakened, and for the first time in years, the old man felt powerless.
Both father and son stood in that broken room—one screaming, one trembling. The air was thick with anger, sorrow, and helplessness.
........
Masahiro stepped out of Haruto's room, his face red and tight with anger. His chest heaved as he tried to calm himself, but he could still feel the weight of what he had just seen.
His son, the boy he had raised and protected, was completely lost, screaming and destroying everything in his room.
The old man walked to his office, shutting the door softly behind him. The hallway was quiet, but inside, Masahiro's mind was racing.
He could not let this happen. Emi Nakamura, the woman who had caused this chaos, could not leave the company. Not now. Not when his son's life was falling apart.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number he had called many times before. His voice was sharp and commanding, no hint of hesitation. "Listen carefully. Bring Emi back to the office. No excuses. No delays. Do whatever it takes."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in on the other side of the line. "How much money? I don't care. Make her an offer she cannot refuse. And if you have to, call her parents. Do it. I want her back in the office immediately."
Masahiro's hands shook slightly as he gripped the phone tighter. He could hear the voice on the other end trying to ask questions, but he cut it off with a single bark. "Go! I will handle the CEO myself. You do exactly what I told you, understood?"
He hung up, taking a deep breath. But there was more to do. One problem remained—Kenji Sato. The boy had come between Haruto and Emi, and Masahiro knew Haruto would never forgive him.
He pulled out another phone and dialed a different number. "I have a job for you," he said, his voice low but icy, filled with purpose. "The person I want dead is Kenji Sato. I'll send you a photo.Kill him. Today. No mistakes.
Fast. No matter what it takes."
Masahiro's eyes narrowed as he listened to the other person respond. He could feel the weight of responsibility, but he did not care.
Nothing mattered except getting Emi back and removing Kenji from the picture. He gave every single detail, down to the person's address and routine. Every instruction was precise.
Once he finished the call, Masahiro leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly. The office around him was quiet, but in his mind, everything was moving fast. He could see Emi being forced to return, Haruto calm again, and Kenji… gone.
His hands gripped the edges of the desk. His face was pale now, veins showing slightly on his forehead. He could feel the anger in his chest, but it was mixed with fear. Fear for Haruto, fear for his company, fear that if he did not act quickly, things would spiral further out of control.
He rubbed his face with one hand and muttered under his breath, almost to himself, "Do it… do exactly what I said. Nothing can stop this now."
Masahiro then straightened, his old bones tense but his mind focused. He could feel the storm coming, but he did not care. He would do whatever it took to protect his son—and to make sure nothing would ever come between Haruto and Emi again.