Please do not ignore the author note!
This story will be full of questionable occurrences. There will be some one-sided attractions and plenty of manipulation going on.There is straight smut, though not detailed. There will be character death, though no one from the main arch of the Dinner With the Family AU. The ending is likely to be bitter sweet at best, but it will be a 'happy' ending.
Because this part involves new characters; if you're new to this particular AU, know that it is considered a mafia AU for a reason. There are past events referenced that may not make a lot of sense if you haven't read the others, but for the most part, it wont be hard to figure out what's going on.
All that being said, enjoy the story!
He sat across the table from her, his hands casually clasped upon the smooth surface. A single, simple silver band decorated his left thumb. His long, white hair was pulled back in a tail at the nape of his neck and he wore all the fineries of someone of his status; a finely tailored suit, a silk tie, expensive, well polished shoes, all in a white that had become iconic.
The woman shifted in her seat. This was the first time she'd met him in person and it was clear that she was nervous, despite how remarkably well composed she remained. He was, she decided, a little smaller in stature than she'd imagined from the stories, but not small by any means; average height, really. His presence was a commanding one, however, and more than made up for it.
When he was finally done studying her from where he sat -his odd eyes sharp like a snake's, but not cold, just…clinical- he reached for the elegant glass nearby. The place he'd chosen was fine and expensive, with comfortable lighting and an extensive bar, yet he drank a simple, heady red wine and when he'd offered her a drink as well only to be declined, he hadn't insisted.
There were two other gentlemen in the room, she noted, that seemed to belong to the man seated across from her. Unlike him, they wore black, but the dark coloring didn't help them blend. They were alert, sharp, watchful. She let it be made obvious she'd spotted them where they sat at the bar not far away and watched.
A hint of a smirk tugged at one side of pale lips as don Shirosaki placed his glass back on the wooden tabletop. It was only when he was absolutely certain of his choice that he spoke and finally broke the tension. "I got a business proposition for ya, miss."
His oddly lilting voice held a surprising amount of polite charm, and the added respectful title was unexpected. She again glanced at his henchmen, before letting her gaze travel back to the powerful man. "I'd gathered." Was all she said.
Shiro nodded ever so slightly, relaxed in his seat, radiating confidence. "Unlike mosta my business partners, I'm gonna give you the option ta tell me no." He said, tapping a single finger very softly against the dark wood of the tabletop, "Keep in mind that's on the table. I gotta lot ta ask of ya."
At the bar a few paces away, the smaller of the don's two men shifted, something like disapproval flashing across his handsome features. The bigger one, arms crossed over his chest, leaned in. The woman saw his lips move, but couldn't make out what was said. She focused on the don again, and he continued.
"I've never been real delicate, forgive me." He said, that ghosting of a smirk still resting on his features, yet there was nothing humorous in what he'd said. "Ya see, in my line of business, there's no guarantee of tomorrow. Things get messy. For me, they've been gettin' messier." He paused, the smirk dropping from his face so swiftly it might not have been there at all. Pulling aside one edge of his white suit jacket, he fished out a carton of cigarettes and tucked one between his lips, but he arched questioning brows towards his guest before lighting up.
Again, the politeness of the simple gesture caught her off guard. After a moment of surprise, she nodded her consent.
The lighter flicked to life and snapped shut with a hushed snick of smooth metal on metal. The don set it upon the table next to his wine, taking the first drag of his cigarette like it was air itself. He blew out a puff of bluish grey smoke, aiming it off to one side, before continuing, "I'm not an old man, but I'm old enough ta start lookin' ahead. When I'm too old ta continue the business, I gotta have someone ta leave it to, ya see, and my two best candidates aren't any younger than me."
A frown marred the woman's pretty features as she tried to puzzle out what was being asked of her. "I'm not sure I'm seeing how this has anything to do with me, Mr.–"
"Shiro. Call me Shiro." The don interrupted, "Permit me ta be blunt then; I need an heir. Someone with legitimate claim ta my family. Someone I can mold and shape and teach."
It clicked then, and her eyes widened slightly as she physically edged back in her seat.
"I will, of course, make it worth yer time." Shiro added, reaching back into his jacket. He pulled forth a folded stack of cash and he wasn't shy about laying it down on the table between them. "This is business," He said, motioning between them, "Nothin' more. Provide me with the product I want, and I'll pay handsomely. Yer young still, I know that, young enough that nine months from now, you'll still be able ta enjoy all the things you do now and more. Maybe you'll wanna go back ta school," He shrugged, pulled a few more large bills from his jacket and added them to the stack on the table. "Retire early. Travel, see the world. Maybe build yerself a nice house in Paris. Fall in love and live the life of yer dreams."
The young lady stared in barely veiled shock, looking between the growing stack on the table, and back up to the don. This man was dangerous, she knew that, everyone knew that.
Shiro didn't wait for her to catch up, "Think on it." He said, sliding a paper across the table, but it wasn't cash this time. In elegant cursive handwriting, a phone number was written in black ink. He took a final sip of his wine and started to stand, taking all that cash with him. In a smooth slight of hand, it was tucked back into his jacket like he'd never had it to begin with. "It's a lot ta ask, I get that. Like I said; I'm willin' ta make it worth your time."
With that, he left. The two men posted at the bar trailed behind him, the big one not saying a word, while the smaller glanced over to meet her eyes, before turning away to follow his superior. The room seemed to part around the mob boss.
Everyone knew who Shirosaki was, and everyone knew not to cross him. But she was allowed to say no.
Ichigo waited until the driver shut the double doors of the don's car behind them before he started in on the younger. "This is not a good idea, sir, this is not ok." He said for the hundredth time. "You can't ask that of a person. You can't ask her to give you a child, or to spend nine months of her time carrying a child she doesn't really want, only to give it up to someone she doesn't know. This is not how we do things."
Shiro gave him a mild look and blew a ring of smoke into the air above him, "This is exactly how we do things, Ichi, this is how we do business. Everyday. You sayin' this is worse than pullin' a gun on someone? I'm givin' that girl a choice. That's pretty damn nice a' me."
"No, that's not nice. That's showing basic humanity-"
"Exactly!" The don half snarled. It was enough to quiet his hitman. "And it's human ta want a kid ta pass my legacy to. This is the only option I got for that. I'm givin' that girl the chance of a lifetime. I know it's a lot. I know that! If she agrees, she'll be well cared for and when it's done, she'll never have ta see me again."
"You are not prepared for a child, Shiro." Ichigo's voice was surprisingly stern. Perhaps more so than the boss had ever heard aimed at him. It was the commanding, no nonsense, no negotiation tone he took with Grimmjow when the hunter needed a firm reminder of his orders to keep him in check.
Unlike with Grimmjow, though, it didn't faze the don. "What the hell d'you mean 'I'm not prepared'? How many traditional families d'you know of that are? This kid wont be an accident. It's planned for. I got the means to take care of it, the funds for anything that could possibly come up or that it could possibly need or want."
"You're calling your future child 'it'." The hitman drawled, staring his boss and friend in the eye.
Shiro threw up his hands, curled his lip, and pulled out another cigarette, "It's not even conceived yet. I doubt I'm offendin' it."
"You don't even like women." Ichigo yet again countered.
"I don't not like women." The don assured as he lit up again, "What I don't like's when my family is endangered. What I don't like is my closest friends bein' killed and my empire threatened. But that's business, Ichi, just like this is. That's what we do. That girl knows that. I told her in simple, blunt terms exactly what it was. Besides! I gave her the chance ta opt out, no strings attached. What're you gonna do when she agrees to it? She's a consentin' adult."
"You can't ask someone to allow you to impregnate them, carry an unborn child for nine months, and then give it up, just like that."
"Yes I can, Ichigo, I just fuckin' did. Now, yer gettin' on my nerves. You'll either change your mind or ya wont. One way or another, it's happenin', though, and you'll have ta get over it. You gonna shun an innocent child when it gets here?"
Ichigo's brow creased even deeper, "No, of course not, but I'm going to be very disappointed in you for-"
"So be it. Yer still gonna follow orders like a good dog."
At Ichigo's side, Grimmjow, who had remained remarkably quiet through the whole of the exchange, stiffened at the unspoken threat. There was no real threat in his stance, but Ichigo automatically dropped a hand to his thigh anyway. The handler met his boss's eye, but there was nothing to say to that. Shiro was right. Ichigo's loyalty ran too deep to be unsettled by a disagreement. In time, he would have to accept it, or get over it.
It was almost a week later when the don's personal phone rang and the number came up unknown. He excused himself from the company he kept and ducked down a hall in his mansion as he connected the call, "Miss Inoue," He greeted with all the smooth confidence that came with being someone of his standing, "Have you thought my proposal over?"
She sounded more like a child over the phone; timid, insecure, "I have, Mr.-" There was a pause, just before the hard sound of his sir name could come out, "-Shiro."
A smirk pulled at the mob boss's features, "Excellent. Would you join me for dinner this evenin', then? We can further negotiate the terms of our involvement and I'll introduce ya to the boys you'll be seein' most."
The young lady hesitated, but pushed out a resolute breath, "That would be fine. Where…um.. Should we meet up somewhere or–"
"Whichever you'd be most comfortable with is fine." Shiro spoke up as she trailed off, knowing exactly what she was getting at.
"I think I would prefer dinner out…"
Shiro wasn't surprised, nor did he blame her. He was powerful and that made him frightening, no matter his hospitality. Sitting in a mansion full of murderers was just as horrifying. "Very well. I'll pick ya up around ten. Do you prefer seafood or Italian?"
"Either is fine."
"Wonderful, Miss Inoue, I look forward ta dinner." The don eased back into his office, catching the looks aimed at him, "If you have any other questions or thoughts between now and then, yer on my personal line, feel free ta call back." He waited for the quiet words of gratitude on the other end, before he disconnected the call.
The look on his face was all Ichigo and his hunter needed to know what his unexpected call was about and that he'd gotten what he wanted, as he always did.
Later that evening, the don rounded up his two best men, who accompanied him nearly everywhere. He handed an address to his driver as he climbed into the back seat of his car.
The young woman he'd contacted lived on the opposite side of the city, in a quaint little edition in an upscale, nicer neighborhood. It was probably a good place to raise kids, Shiro decided, as he stubbed out a cigarette and watched the houses go by. Even with as much money as there obviously was in the area, the few people out tending gardens and flowerbeds and walking their dogs turned to watch him go by. Well, not him personally. The windows were far too darkly tinted for that. They watched his car, probably oblivious to the criminal lord within.
It wasn't hard to recognize how much a vehicle like his was worth. All black, there wasn't a scratch on it. The windows were dark to match, the rims chrome and polished. The door handles matched. But what really made the car stand out was that it was just a touch too long to be a normal car, but not quite long enough to be a limo, and the two doors on each side -not including the driver's and passenger's doors- faced one another to swing open like the double doors of a building.
Suicide doors, Shiro's internal monologue provided. He'd had the car customized purely for those doors. Just like the mobsters of old used to have, like all his favorite movies. It made it easier to dump a body while driving down the street; a wider exit that didn't require as much jockeying.
Of course now he'd never dump a body from his moving vehicle. Technology had advanced too far for that. A body that readily available would be too easy to trace back to him. But he liked the sentiment anyway.
The woman must have been waiting for them because, as the car parked and the driver opened Shiro's door to allow the don to step free, the front door of the small house eased open.
Shiro stepped aside -though his driver still held the door- to let the woman enter the car before him. There was color in her cheeks as she quietly climbed in.
"Sit on the left, if ya would." He instructed, despite that on the right sat his two men. Then he followed to sit at her side, across from his hitmen, and the door was absently pushed closed behind him as he settled.
The don crossed an ankle over the knee of his other leg, his ever present smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. The door was shut behind them. It was a sound and action the don and his men were long accustomed to, but for his guest, it had a ring of finality that was slightly unsettling. Being shut away in a small space filled with killers was enough to make anyone a bit nervous.
The edge to her unease showed in her fair features and the closed off way she clasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles were white.
After a moment, when the car had pulled from the driveway and began coasting through suburban streets again, Shirosaki broke the tenseness with that iconic, distorted voice, "Miss Inoue, these 're my two best men. You'll likely be seein' a lotta 'em, now that yer temporarily joinin' the family." He motioned toward the smaller of the two sitting across from himself and his guest, "Ichigo," he introduced like any good gentlemen, "and his partner, Grimmjow. If you ever can't contact me for whatever reason, these two'll make sure yer well taken care of."
It was a little forced, perhaps, but a shy little smile found the young lady's features as she let out a small, "Thank you." She glanced the two over, unsure if she should be introducing herself back. She ultimately assumed that should have been her host's job, and that since he didn't do it, they probably already knew who she was. It was an unsurprising thought, if not a bit intimidating. Her attention lingered on the smaller of the two men that sat across from her. He was far… softer, less cold looking than the other. Even more so than Shirosaki himself was. "It's nice to meet you two."
"Likewise," Ichigo said with a polite smile, mostly just trying to put her at ease. It was easy to see she was nervous, and understandably so.
The drive wasn't a long one, though it wasn't short either. By the time they'd made it to the restaurant of the don's choice -closer to his side of town- the city lights were on; streets and signs lit up, and headlights flashing this way and that.
The car was pulled up to the very front entrance and the driver ushered the valet back a few steps as he rounded the side and opened the door for his boss. The small crowd of guests coming and going paused to watch as Shirosaki, in his white suit, with his long hair tied back in a simple tail, stepped from the vehicle. He paused to hold a hand out to his guest, making note of how small and dainty the girl's fingers were in his hand as he offered her assistance.
She'd chosen her outfit wisely, he noted; a simple but elegant black dress that contrasted sharply while she stood at his side.
The front door was pulled open by a hostess and the don was greeted by his sir name. Orihime saw the slight cringe that creased his features as he motioned for her to proceed him. They were flanked by Shiro's hired men as they were shown to a table on the far side of the restaurant, away from windows and the entrance.
As was usual for him, Shiro ordered wine and told his guest to have whatever she liked, that the tab was his to be concerned about, and he wasn't concerned. The little comment earned a small smile as drinks and meals were ordered.
The four of them sat around a table in low lighting, sipping wine as they waited on dinner. After a few minutes of being in the don's presence, it was easy to start relaxing a bit. The man was powerful and dangerous for sure, but when his temper wasn't getting the better of him, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Charming, in his own way. And his friends were much the same, especially the smaller of the two.
During one particularly well timed moment, they both took a sip of their wine at the same time and the woman noted how similar their mannerisms were. She studied the lower ranking man's, Ichigo's, profile for a moment, until she realized the blue haired man had caught her. Her features heated slightly, than she turned back to the pale man at her side. As soft spoken as she'd been this meeting, when she did speak up, it didn't take her much to earn the don's attention. "Are you two related?" She asked, starting to forget her unease as she spent more time around them.
Grimmjow barked a laugh, not shy about his amusement in the least, and Shiro snorted, a twisted grin on his features.
Ichigo choked, but set his glass down and took a moment to recover before shaking his head, "No, thankfully."
"Well don't say that," Shiro interjected, motioning across the table, that over wide grin still in place. "You don't know who your old man was or where he is, and mine was known ta run 'round behind my mamma's back in his day. He coulda knocked up your mum before he got ta mine."
Ichigo paused, staring almost deadpan across the table. "No." He denied simply, then shook his head again, a smile finally winning out, "If I was though, I'd feel like I failed as an older brother."
The don lilted a laugh, tossing up his hands in mock defeat, "C'mon, I turned out pretty good! I'd be proud ta call me my younger brother, if I was you."
"Of course you would," Ichigo shook his head but his exasperation was good natured. Beside him, Grimmjow's mirth over the short debate was obvious.
The three were so casual and calm around each other, obviously comfortable in each other's presence despite their chosen professions or that to insult someone like Shirosaki could have been a death sentence. It seemed so normal, so average, like three friends out to have a good time and nothing more. The simple exchange went a long way in putting the don's guest and future business partner at ease.
As the night wore on and dinner arrived, Orihime honestly found herself enjoying the company. Conversation came easy and every word she said was paid attention to and given due response, whether it be a question she asked, or a comment she made. She was treated with a surprising amount of respect, and part of her assumed it was simply because of the agreement she was entering into with the don, yet the man treated his subordinates with the same respect. He valued them and it showed. She thought, maybe, she would have that same value to him.
It wasn't until dessert was ordered, dishes were cleared, wine refilled and said dessert had arrived that Shirosaki brought business up. He took the first bite of his expensive delicacy, deciding it was up to par, before he half turned in his seat to better speak with the woman at his side, "So ya've thought over my proposal, then?" Of course he'd asked much the same over the phone, but he wished to reaffirm the answer, especially in front of his men as witnesses.
With the return to seriousness, the woman withdrew just a little. She nodded, "I have."
Shiro matched her nod and if he shared any of her nervousness and reservation at all, it didn't show. Though, nor did he seem to take the situation lightly and she supposed he had as much at stake in all this as she did.
"Excellent. Then the deed'll be done as soon as possible. All of your expenses will be mine ta handle; doctors, maternity leave and the funds needed, supplies, what have ya. Once it starts showin', I'd prefer ya stay in the mansion for safety's sake, but we can negotiate that when the time comes. Under no circumstances is anyone ta know who the father is, understand?" He gave her the most stern look she'd seen from him yet, "Keep it a secret as long as ya can, and if asked, tell 'em ya don't know or make somethin' up, but don't give 'em my name." He paused, making sure that what he was saying was sinking in, "This is more of a liability for me than it is for you, but it will become your liability if it's found out that I'm the father. This is a very dangerous world, I'd prefer ta keep ya on the sidelines and let ya slip away quietly when it's done."
Orihime nodded a very subtle motion, large eyes trained on the pale man she'd soon be courting. "I understand…"
"And you're still willing to accept my offer?" Colorless brows arched in question. Absently, the don sipped his dark wine, eyes trained on her over the rim of his cup. When he set it down, "This is your last chance ta back out. If you agree now, ya don't getta change your mind later. Not before, not durin', not after. You're bound ta the contract till after the baby's born."
The woman glanced around the table briefly, her gaze finding first Grimmjow, than lingering on Ichigo momentarily, before coasting back to the don who sat at her side. She nodded again, "You have something you want that I can give, and I have something I want, that you can give. When should we… Is this happening tonight?"
Relieved by the confession -because this was the way business worked and this was something he understood- though he wouldn't say as much and certainly didn't allow it to show, Shirosaki leaned back in his seat again, plucking up his fork to start in on his dessert in ernest. "It doesn't have to," He told her, a pleased expression on his handsome, if unique, features, "but if you'd prefer ta get it outta the way, I wont be offended."
The woman seemed as if unable to fathom a reply, and sputtered a mildly embarrassed, "don't say it that way." She shook her head, and looked down at her drink, "You say it as if you're not at least attractive. All I ask is to be treated well…"
"I assure you, you will be, Miss Inoue. I treat those who do favors for me very well and this is a very big favor."
Orhime nodded again and wondered how much lying mobsters did, but he'd seemed remarkably genuine and honest thus far, so when he suggested they at least check out the mansion, so that she might grow a little more familiar and comfortable with him and his, she agreed.
Though she was fortunate enough to have a job and house, she wasn't exactly well off. It would have been a lie to say that walking through the fancy setting, in a little black dress and arm in arm with an obviously very high standing man, wasn't flattering, thrilling even. The pair turned heads and that was a good feeling. At her side, the don smirked that confident expression, like the eyes on him were as much a part of his ensemble as the silk tie he wore daily. Orihime listened to the ring of her heals on the polished tile, and not the whispers about them.
They climbed into his car -a vehicle with a price tag higher than Orihime's house- and without prompt, the driver turned them toward the don's home.
The city passed by in a repeating pattern of the fleeting brightness of street lights and steady, all-consuming darkness of night. Like that of his pale complexion and spotless attire compared to the dirty, gritty work he did, she would later come to realize that the contrast very much suited the don and all that he was. His charm was a spark; enough to gain attention and captivate, enough to burn while his darkness was roiling below the surface, readily seen in those odd eyes of his, if only one could look past that brilliant, all consuming spark.
But that's what the don was good at. Charm aplenty, and if you didn't fall for that charm, than he had no need for you, and those Shiro had no use for didn't last long in his city.
He'd told her she had a choice, that she could back out if she wished, but did one ever truly walk away clean once the mafia showed interest? Not likely. It was a game of cat and mouse from the start; the mouse could run and run and run. It could even get lucky a few times, but trapped in a house with a cat, the cat only needed to get lucky once and the game was over.
The don tossed the word around so casually, calling his home the mansion, but despite his lack of modesty about it, the young lady was still taken aback by the sheer size of the building and its grounds as the car they rode in turned into a gated drive. The paved path made a circle in the front yard, making for easy comings and goings. The grassy space in the center was landscaped and well manicured. The stairs leading up to the grand entrance were marble, a doorman on either side to await them in the looming shadows of the building itself.
Orihime took it all in as the car pulled lazily around the circle, easing to a smooth stop before the front. This time the driver remained in his seat and the door was instead pulled open by one of the two men posted before the doors of the don's mansion. Shiro climbed from the car first, offering her a hand as she slid across the leather seat and stood also. She accepted the offer, taking the man's hand as she was guided up the steps and through the front door.
If the building itself and the lawn were impressive, the inside was even more so, with its high arching ceiling, crystal chandelier, and polished floor. It was something out of a movie; all very elegant, all very showy, just like the don himself.
"After tanight," Shiro said, releasing the young lady's arm, "you'll have clearance ta enter as ya wish. Call ahead though. The boys at the door don't handle surprises well." He chuckled like it was a joke, like the matter was a light one, but even that amusement held something more.
Even so, the sound was a happy one, and a slight smile graced Orihime's fair features. It was a simple request, easily followed, after all.
Not even a full five minutes after their arrival, the don's phone went off with a single, quiet chime where it was tucked away in a pocket. Pale brows arched mildly, before the man pulled the phone free. He smiled a charming apology and connected the call as he lifted it to his ear. Without a greeting, he stated simply and shortly, "I have company. Is it important?" His tone wasn't exactly aggressive, but it wasn't exactly pleased either.
Orihime glanced over at Ichigo, a bit unsure of what she should do.
Still on the phone, Shiro's pleasant smile started to lesson, a look of barely veiled annoyance overcoming his expression. "Did ya try callin' Byakuya first? Ya knew I had prior commitments this evenin'-" A tell tail curl lifted the don's lip as his words broke off.
Ichigo pushed a smile across his features, "Miss Inoue, if you wouldn't mind, how about we continue our tour and let Shiro catch up?" He glanced across at his boss and caught the man's inverted eyes, earning a nod. Redirecting his attention at their guest, he held an arm out and allowed the young lady take his arm as they continued away from the front entrance.
Shiro started off down a side wing, his brisk but un-panicked footsteps covered by the sharp sound of Orihime's heels upon his expensive tile flooring.
"While we've got the chance," Ichigo began, his tone smooth and unworried in the equally peaceful hallway, "there are a few more things you should know about Shiro and your time here." The look that was turned on him was one of slight unease, maybe a bit of trepidation. "It's nothing to worry overly about. Just some things to keep in mind," He assured, "The don doesn't take kindly to assumptions. If there's something you don't know, ask. If it's something you shouldn't know, he'll tell you that. If he does tell you that, be done with it and don't bring it back up. If he tells you to do something within reason, like call ahead before showing up, please do it. It's for your own benefit as much as his." Ichigo kept their pace relaxed and easy as they walked, not wanting to make the poor girl any more nervous than necessary. The situation was surely already overwhelming as it was. He shook his head in an exasperated but fond way, and glanced across at her again as he continued, "Shiro's not a bad guy, no matter what you have or may hear. He's only dangerous if given a reason, but he can be a bit temperamental at times. If for whatever you're uncomfortable talking to him or with something he's asked you to do, you can come to myself or Grimmjow about it, even if it's about Shiro himself."
A hint of color rose in the girl's cheeks and she looked down towards her feet for a moment, before back at the man who's side she walked at. "Thank you," Her voice was as polite as it was quiet.
"Think nothing of it. We know this is a lot to ask. We'll do what we can to make you as comfortable and happy as possible." At Ichigo's other side, Grimmjow eyed the woman and her actions, but said nothing and let his partner handle this. Ichigo continued, "Thank you for accepting his offer. I haven't seen him this happy in a long time."
At that, Grimmjow frowned and did speak up, "Careful, Ichigo, Shiro wants to keep her out of the rest of his business."
Ichigo frowned right back, "Yes, but if she's to come and go regularly, and eventually stay in the mansion, there's things she'll have to know and things she'll learn anyway. She can know a good friend was lost without knowing the details. It's a touchy subject for him. It's important."
Orihime started to let out something of a sad, regretful sound, meaning to offer her condolences, when the sound of approaching steps brought her around. Grimmjow and Ichigo turned as well, expecting the don's return. Instead, Orhime was met with the sight of a tall, lean figure, clearly male, though masculine wasn't a term she would have described him with.
"Doctor." Ichigo greeted, something rather formal and tight about his voice.
The doctor ignored him, his cunning yellow eyes taking in Orhime's person. He looked her up and down with a clinical eye, "So you're to be his new fancy?" He asked, a sly little tilt to the corners of his lips, "He must have a thing for redheads."
"Was…" Orhime looked from the doctor, to Ichigo, "Was there another girl?"
"No, you're the only girl." Ichigo assured, not quite glaring the doctor down. Despite that he had to look up at that slim man, there was no inferiority or intimidation in the handler. "Be nice, Szayel. If you scare her away, or stress her out, Shiro will not be happy."
The doctor rolled his eyes, "Quit your mothering, Kurosaki, and save your warnings. Who do you think helped him pick her out?" He shook his head and went right back to studying Orihime as he would a specimen to be dissected, "I just hadn't seen your physical appearance yet. We took the liberty of looking at your family history before contacting you, Miss, to insure that any offspring would be genetically sound and healthy."
"O-oh…" Orihime hesitated, surrounded by powerful men in a building she knew she'd never leave if they didn't allow it. She squared her shoulders a bit and pulled her arm from where it'd been looped in Ichigo's, her new employer's best man, and clasped her hands behind her back. "Are you to be my new doctor then?"
"Oh no," Szayel half laughed a chiming sound, "Pediatrics and maternity are not my forte. I will be of assistance, though, should an emergency or something untold occur. Better a doctor that's on hand than no doctor. I will, however, be helping the boss choose your new doctor."
"I wont get a say in that?" She asked.
Szayel shrugged a light, one shouldered motion, "You will, I assume, if you meet your doctor and decide you don't like him or her for whatever reason and make your concerns known. I can tell him you'd like to help choose someone, if you like."
She nodded slightly, "I would appreciate that."
"Excellent. I'll let him know." Szayel started to brush by them, continuing in the direction he'd been going and heading further into the mansion without another word.
Orhime turned to watch him go, something of a frown on her features. "He's very odd." She admitted.
"He is." Ichigo agreed, "Come. We'll await Shiro in the lounge, where it's more comfortable." They continued as well, at a more relaxed pace than the doctor. Ichigo could only assume he was headed either for the office he preformed his medical exams and experiments in, or the don's room to finish removing whatever he'd left in there. He said nothing of the possibilities though. "Dr. Granz can be a bit…abrasive, but he's good at what he does. Don't let him get away with tormenting you."
Orhime breathed a soft laugh, "I wont. What did he mean by redheads? …..is the– Is Shiro interested in…you, as well?"
The moment the question processed, Grimmjow burst into unashamed laughter. Even Ichigo coughed a laugh, and shook his head. "No, not me, thankfully. The doctor was referring to-" himself, obviously, but being unsure how much the boss would want revealed to his new conquest, Ichigo settled for vaguely explaining, "Shiro's last, uh, partner, who is a redhead, though not nearly the same shade as you. I think, in this case, that's something you'll have to talk about with Shiro if you want to know more."
"Oh, no, it's fine. I was just…you told me to ask…if I had questions. I just-"
A moment longer of walking through the mostly deserted hallway found them at a set of tall double doors. Grimmjow pushed one open, the weight of it obvious in the way he did so, leaning a bit of his weight into it. Standing before them, he held it open and Orihime thanked him quietly as she stepped through, followed by her escort.
The doorway opened up into a large dining hall with a long table and high-backed chairs. There was another doorway with double swinging doors to the left, at the far side of the room. Orhime assumed correctly when her first thought was the kitchen. Ichigo confirmed as much when he announced this as the boss's dining room and kitchen, though they wouldn't be going back there. The mansion had its own chefs, he told her offhandedly, before turning right to follow the outer edge of the room. On this side, there was another arching, open doorway. Despite no door to block off the view of the room beyond, all that was visible from the dinning room was another wall. As it was, the doorway emptied into a short corridor that was far smaller than the main ones and only allowed one to go left.
This short hallway spilled out into what Ichigo had referred to as the lounge. A fireplace occupied one wall, a large television hanging above it. Oddly enough, old movie posters decorated the darkly painted walls; a few western cliches, a few action posters, several mafia classics. Another crystal chandelier hung above their heads, giving the windowless room an inviting atmosphere. Arrayed around the large room, several pieces of leather furniture helped to close the space into a comfortable sitting area.
It was easy to imagine the powerful mobster entertaining guests here, playing his game of high society and glamorized crime.
"Make yourself comfortable," Ichigo invited, "Our home is quite large. I'm sure it'll take time to figure out your way around, but this is perhaps one of the more frequented areas. Once you've been granted clearance to explore at will, you'll have free roam over most of the mansion. Anything you're not supposed to see will be kept behind locked doors. Except Shiro's chambers. I assume he'll give you a key."
They didn't wait long for the boss. Shiro peeked around the corner as he walked into the room to find them. "Ah! I thought maybe you'd end up here." The confident little smirk was back on his features like the phone call hadn't stolen it from him. A freshly lit cigarette perched between his pale, upturned lips and he'd taken his white jacket off. The article was folded neatly over one arm, "What d'ya think of my home, so far?"
"It's certainly large." She admitted, tucking her dress close as she took a seat upon the leather couch nearest her. "And a little intimidating."
"That's exactly what I like ta hear." Shiro threw her a quick wink as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew a ring of smoke into the air above his head.
The woman's features tinted a healthy pink, her large eyes automatically dropping slightly to cut across his figure as he walked closer, before she yanked her attention from him altogether.
"Shiro, behave yourself. She just got here." Ichigo admonished, mildly embarrassed for their guest.
Shiro frowned a goodnatured expression over at his hitman as he took a place beside his guest, sitting close to her side, but not stiflingly so. "I thought we just decided at dinner that you weren't my big brother, Ichigo."
"Yes, but you apparently need one to teach you how to act around a lady."
Shiro snorted, draping his jacket over the arm of the leather sofa at his other side. "Nonsense. I'm flatterin' and ya know it."
Ichigo sighed an exasperated breath, shaking his head.
At his side, Grimmjow grinned, "He knows. He hates that you're right." He got elbowed for it, but laughed through his grunt.
Orihime glanced between the two, watching the way they interact. Clearly they had a very close partnership. She smiled at the closeness of the don's –Shiro's, she reminded herself. He'd said to call him Shiro. – of Shiro's little circle. A family; brothers, the three of them.
After some good natured banter, a fair deal of it at Ichigo's expense and a few jabs thrown by him at the other two, they eventually continued their little tour, this time with the mansion's owner present.
As usual, Shiro made a surprisingly charming host as they wandered through long halls and met a few of the occupants. They bypassed an entire wing, the don explaining simply that it contained nothing of interest, unless the bedrooms of his men were of interest. Orihime flushed red and only quit stammering her denial when Ichigo assured her that was just Shiro's sense of humor talking, and nothing to worry over. At one point in their walk of the man's home, they made it to a downward sloping hall. A set of large, windowless double doors blocked the view of what lay beyond. This was another spot of little explanation and the don told her it was the basement, and that unless there was a serious emergency the nature of which he wouldn't go into, she would never see the interior.
After her tour and all the questions she could think of, Orihime was shown home. The don walked her to his car, but didn't accompany her on her drive home. Even without the boss there, the driver parked before her house -modest, small even, in comparison to the mansion- rounded the vehicle, and opened her door for her. He bowed slightly, silent, as she thanked him, and didn't climb back into the car until she'd let herself into her home and had shut the door behind her.
It was their second official meeting that the business they agreed to conduct began. It was an odd agreement, and an odd thing to put a timetable to, but Shiro had other things to worry about and a schedule to keep, both long and short term, and Orihime herself wasn't looking to get attached. After all this was over and the mobster had what he wanted, she planned to put the whole ordeal behind her. Besides, people payed good money for surrogate mothers, a healthy woman to carry a hard sought after child destined for a great family, all the time. This wasn't all that different.
And it paid better.
They didn't jump straight into it, though, not quite. The don understood how awkward this was, how strange.
Like before, they had dinner first, the conversation casual and even light, despite the fine setting and finer food and the clothing that cost more than Orihime's first car had. And again, just like before, it wasn't until dessert that Shirosaki brought business up. He suggested they move things along, if she was comfortable with it, "Or… as comfortable with it as I can make you." He'd amended with a charming little smile and a gesture of his fork. He was hard not to like, which made it a little easier when Orihime realized that, if they weren't to get on with it, there was no reason for them to meet up like this. So she agreed, glancing down at her dessert as she apologized for her reservations and shyness.
An hour or so later saw them at the don's personal rooms. His men had trailed them all of dinner and even through the front entrance of the mansion, yet they'd as good as vanished by the time they entered the hall that led to his quarters.
Once unlocked, he held the door for her and Orihime was given her first look of the man's home past all the formalities and ranks and the show he put on. The private space was by no means small, but surprisingly modest in decor. The walls were plain and of neutral color. Dark, floor length curtains took up either side of large, flatscreen TV mounted on the wall opposite the entryway. The back of a leather couch faced them, looking towards the television and the windows hidden behind the curtains. The entire space was longer than it was wide. Off to one side, the suite expanded into a small kitchen with a solid granite countertop and table. It was fully furnished, but spotless and didn't look as if used often. Passed that, another double doorway with heavy, arching doors to close it off opened up into a sprawling bedroom. The colors were darker than the rest of the flat; greys and blacks rather than warm, neutral tones. The bed itself was massive with dark, silken sheets and more pillows than fully necessary. A crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling but the light was surprisingly soft.
Unlike her last tour of the mansion, Shiro wasn't quite so talkative and cheery as before. He was no less of a gentlemen and fine host on their way through his personal space, though. This was just that; his personal space, the place where he was able to leave his business and title behind him and relax in comfort.
After a moment of letting her take the room in, the don shrugged from his shirt, almost meticulous in the way he folded it over the frame of the large bed. His usual smirk still rested on his lips, and there was no tremble to his limbs, but Orhime thought that maybe he was as nervous as she was.
She swallowed and couldn't help but let her attention flicker down the exposed skin. There were scars decorating his torso here and there, some of them quite harsh, but all were pale like the rest of him and none of them detracted from his handsomeness. He was, she decided as she tried to ignore the heat in her face, quite attractive in an exotic, dangerous sort of way. Like the character from the movie that every woman thought she wanted.
With a fortified breath, she sat down on the edge of the bed and reached behind herself to begin unzipping her dress.
A warm hand settled over hers as Shiro knelt upon the bed as well, shifting so that he was partially behind her. He finished the task for her, quiet and surprisingly delicate about it. Then his fingertips danced in light trails up her bared back to slip below the shoulder straps of the dress, pushing them free. He leaned in close, so that his breath was warm against the back of her neck, "You'll have ta forgive me," He chuckled, "if I'm a bit clumsy. I haven't been with a woman since I was… thirteen? fourteen? And it's been nearly as many years since then."
She turned to face him, the confession oddly comforting; endearing, maybe. A light smile found her features, framed by just a touch of pink in her cheeks. "You usually prefer men?"
He nodded, open and honest with his answer, "But I've never been real good at followin' the rules."
She laughed a soft sound, a shiver working up her spine at the warmth of the fingers on her bare skin.
Shiro trailed his fingertips up the back of her neck as he took in her features, before his fingers found the pin in her hair. Slipping it free, long, orange locks fell to frame her round face and cascade around her shoulders. He took his time, taking in the sight as he took a few soft strands between his fingers.
Warm eyes edged away from that studying, slightly unnerving glance. There was nothing malicious or threatening in it, but the don was intense in all ways, even when there was a softness to him. "Was– was I your first choice?" She asked, "When you…decided you wanted a child?"
"You were, actually." Shiro answered, honest with her again as he bent to begin untying his shoes. He spoke as he worked the laces, "I guess it must sound a little creepy, but I was very careful in my research and selection. Of course I had a handful of other candidates in mind, for if you declined my offer, but after seein' you in person…" He trailed off, kicked out of his shoes, and began working the buckle of his belt. His answer was so simple, so sincere, "You're beautiful."
The young woman smiled, her features soft, despite that she spoke with a known murderer. He seemed so far from dangerous like this. "You're very sweet, Shiro. I thought, when we were first going over details and even right up until now, that this would be difficult for me… but you're making it very easy. I was expecting you to be more…" She trailed off, gesturing.
"Scary?" The don matched her laugh, his smile widening further into something more characteristic of him. "Well, Miss Inoue, I wont lie to ya. I can certainly be scary, especially when I try ta cook, but you've nothin' ta worry about. I'll make sure my chef takes care of breakfast in the mornin'."
Orihime laughed again, even as pale fingers pushed the smooth black cloth further down her torso, exposing the lace of her bra and the skin of her stomach. "Well, don Shirosaki, I think that if you're as suave in all things as you are at hosting dinner and entertaining guests, clumsiness will not be an issue."
"Lets hope not." White, perfectly pressed pants fell to the floor as the don stood and faced her fully, and descended predator-like upon his guest. Orihime gasped a quiet, surprised sound as a warm hand found the side of her throat, brushing her hair away to make room for pale lips. The weight that started to ease her back against the bed was surprisingly comfortable. A second hand found her inner thigh, just above her knee and while the touch wasn't outright lewd or too forward, it certainly wasn't innocent either. A shiver worked up her spine as that hand inched upward and, after only a slight moment of hesitation, she settled her own hands against pale skin.
Little black panties fell to the floor, discarded with the don's white pants. She arched as he -surprisingly gentle, but intense- started with his fingers.
The thin fabric of her dress bunched around her hips as he wrapped his free arm around behind her back and repositioned her further onto the bed. There was a strong, not quite hurried way to his movements, intensity aplenty, but it wasn't a rough touch.
With long legs wrapped tight around his hips, Shiro bent close to her as he eased his way into wet, tight heat. He wasn't shy about his pleasure, breathing a moaning sound against her neck. She arched up into him, her fingers threading through long, white hair as her head fell back and a panted cry left her parted lips. He used the arm still slung around her waist to pull her up, tighter against his lower half, burying himself deeper.
With his weight resting on the elbow he had on the pillow by her head, knelt between her spread legs, the don worked to make this as pleasurable for her as it was for him. When she gasped for more, for harder, he did so, quickening his pace. His lips didn't find hers, but they left hot, panting trails across the delicate line of her throat, her collarbone, over her shoulder, as he let short, quiet sounds of pleasure mark his every thrust.
She breathed his name, pulled his hair, shuddered below him and thought, in the back of her mind, maybe this wouldn't be such a bad arrangement after all.
When they were done, the air was warm with in their wake. The don pulled himself free to lay at her side upon the massive bed. There was no cuddling or holding, but he didn't push her away, either. Not bothering with a clean up, he dragged the blankets over them, rolling onto his side to pull the edge up and watch the way the silk slid over her skin.
Orihime woke up to an empty bed. The shower was running when she gathered the blanket up around herself as she sat up, listening to the muted sound of running water. Thinking of the night before, her features heated, before she stood and began searching for her discarded dress and underwear.
The water shut off and the previously closed bathroom door creaked open. Naked aside from the black towel wrapped around his waist, Shiro stepped from the steam filled room with a smirk on his face. "There's plenty a' hot water, if you wanna shower."
The woman paused, a little heat flushing her features as her gaze automatically shuffled down his figure before shifting off to the side. She held her dress up, wrapped half around her to cover the majority of her nakedness, but realized how silly that was after the night they shared. "I would like that," She decided, unsure how to feel about what they'd done or what they would do.
"Very well. There's a clean towel in there, I've already taken the liberty of sendin' someone ta your house to grab some clean clothes for you ta wear for breakfast. Do you remember where the dining hall is, or should I stick around and escort you?"
"Um… I'm sure I can…"
Seeing her hesitation, Shiro smiled, crossing the room to his closet. "I'll escort you." He assured as he pulled out a clean pair of white slacks and a dark button up shirt.
She matched his smile, something like veiled relief riding the breath she exhaled. The don made a waving motion with his hand as he dropped the towel from around his waist. Orihime flushed bright red as she took the cue to rush off to her shower, leaving the man to dress in private.
When she was finished, two stacks of clean clothing sat on the countertop next to a towel; another of her fancy little black dresses and the most expensive formal dress slacks and blouse she owned. She started to grab the pants, before changing her mind and pulling the dress on instead, already realizing his preferences despite being given an option.
Shiro was waiting patiently in the sitting area of his suite. He did nothing to hide the approving sweep of her figure his eyes did as he turned for the door, holding it open like a gentleman. "After breakfast, you'll be free ta go if you like, or stay a while. It's upta you. After today, you'll have clearance ta come and go as ya please, so long as you're careful about it."
She nodded her understanding. Another preference of his; secrecy, privacy, and forewarning of her presence. But she realized it was as much for her safety as his own.
They arrived at the large dining hall she'd been shown the night before as places were being set by staff. Ichigo and Grimmjow were already there, but no other members of Shirosaki's team were present. They greeted her as friendly and respectfully as they did their boss.
Breakfast wasn't rushed, but it wasn't dragged out either and even though she'd been given the choice, she felt as if her presence wasn't quite wanted at that moment. The don was just as cordial as he'd been at their dinner the night prior, but the phone he kept on him at all times stayed in hand and every few minutes the barely there buzz of a silenced ringtone went off. He'd check the message, his features unreadable, then go back to entertaining his guest and men.
After plates were cleared, she decided to excuse herself from the mansion for the day.
"I'm terribly sorry about bein' distracted through breakfast, Miss Inoue." Shiro said as he walked her down the hall, back to the front entrance. A car already awaited them out front, the engine on. "Unfortunately business calls. I'll have ta leave ya in the care of my driver. He'll see that ya get home safely."
"Oh, but I left-"
"I'll have your dress cleaned and returned to ya the next time you're over." The driver opened the backdoor of the vehicle for her, but Shiro stepped up to the car with her, watching as she slid in. There was a hint of mischief on his pale features as he continued as if uninterrupted, "I greatly look forward to our next meeting."
She wasn't given the chance to respond. The car door was closed behind her and Shiro tucked his hands into his pockets, nodding his goodbyes as the vehicle was put into gear. Orhime turned to watch him and the front of the massive building looming behind him so casually as the car began pulling away.
A single wave of a hand brought one of the door guards over as Shiro watched the car pull away. The man leaned in close as his boss spoke.
"I want a man keepin' an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't talk ta anyone about this. Make sure she doesn't change her mind."
"Yessir."
Pushing the most benevolent smirk across his features he could manage, the don sent a last wave towards the car nearing the end of his drive, then turned on his heel and disappeared inside his mansion.
Business called. He had an empire to run.
Ta da~ The long awaited baby fic. Your thoughts would be much appreciated!
Also, if you don't already, follow my tumblr! (shadowthorne . tumblr . com) There is a ton of DwtF stuff on there; headcanons, drabbles that never got posted to ffn, as well as things from my other fics.
Anyway. Thank you for reading~