Taken

"Now, there is only one last factor..."

"More wine, Mr. Uchiha?"

I stop swirling the near-empty glass in my hand. With much effort, I pry my fingers off and settle the glass down on the table with a loud, unforgiving thud.

The waiter winces, then pours me more wine from a bottle of Margaux older than my grandfather.

Bitterly dry; how considerate.

Sleek, modern glass penthouse, personal pianists, one grand Armani suit to even get in, let alone dine on a seven course meal that will be inevitably in the five digits. I wonder briefly who will be paying for this bill.

Itachi has never once not paid in full for a dinner with a lady, a result of our father's pride, mother's courtesy, and his own consideration. Whatever his companions desire, he grants, and females have been preying on him like vultures.

On the other hand, the reservation is under Haruno. Sakura is orchestrating this play, and she can be very determined. Determined enough to be my girlfriend even if it meant working two jobs on top of her Harvard studies, because I did not play prince charming, and if she cannot rise to my standards, we were through. And if she cannot afford something this petty, she definitely has no chance of any further association with my brother.

Somehow, either way, I am displeased.

I bring the wine to my lips.

Sakura Haruno.

Middle class, unattractive girl with nothing but book smarts, a stale 4.0, and unimpressive intelligence. No talent.

While the other students had ambitions, she had dreams. Of Cinderella tales, of romance.

Yet, unlike her peers, she realized fairy tales are not delivered on a silver platter. If you want the multimillion pretty boy, you must work for it. Another doctor, you will not impress me, a lawyer, you cannot beat me. Harvard is not enough, noteworthy research is not enough, your face on the cover of a magazine or two is not enough.

Only she understood this, while the other girls rushed to surgery, gushed out compliments, confessed, confessed, confessed when they knew they were unworthy of me, continually offending me by believing I can fall for anyone so insubstantial with mere words. That I will give you stupid, lazy, useless girls, my attention, all because you confessed. Admitted your lust, your distraction, your hope for free meal, so you may cling onto me and benefit from my future wealth and fame.

Maybe that is why Sakura got so far. She stopped wasting her time confessing and used her energy to turn herself into someone worthy. Could hold down a debate, tackle any business deal, put the world in a whirl with contributions in everything from science to politics. Most of all, she became useful. Her connections, influence, and fame gave me reasons to want her. Possibly keep her, had she not been disillusioned and realized I wasn't her dream.

No tender smiles, no affectionate compliments. No sentimentality, no passion. I will kiss, but I will not hug. I can defend, but I cannot comfort. And most of all, I will not put her interests before my own. I will not compromise, and I will never stop being selfish, ready to sacrifice anything, including her, to obtain my goals.

Her dream had been an ocean away, and now, currently across from me, sending a polite, sympathetic smile to the waiter, whom I am equally treating as nonexistent.

Sakura Haruno. She is a surprise. Never would I have thought she, of all people, would ascend above me and claim my brother's heart.

Or did she?

I set the glass down, looking up at the woman who stepped behind my brother's chair. Expensive business suit, designer shades. Not a hint of cosmetics, perfume, nor jewelry past the ring gleaming on her finger as she lifts her sunglasses.

Funny.

I expect a dazzling appearance, a ballgown, diamond necklaces. A higher performance to match her higher stature, and yet she even lost the meticulously make-upped face from when we dated.

Instead, she is more naturally radiant, eyes smiling, her entire presence warm, almost outright sexy from the attention she is attracting. She is, after all, no longer the girlfriend of Sasuke Uchiha, but the fiancee of Itachi Uchiha. And any girl Itachi even looks at is instantly desirable.

"Sorry I'm late," Sakura says apologetically, knowing my utter intolerance of tardiness, "but Naruto had a tough time clearing national security, and my plane had to be delayed. And the attire too. I had a dress ready at the hotel, but I figured it'd be best to not keep you two waiting any longer."

I make no comment as she proceeds to quickly exchange a kiss with my brother, then settle for the chair next to him.

"So." An exhale. "Guess the cat got out of the bag a little too early, huh?"

Itachi can only smile. "It was a little silly to act ignorant when the evidence was right on my finger."

Sakura taps her jaw with a finger. "But really, Sasuke? A wedding ring?" It is not mockery. Only a tease to lighten the thick, suffocating atmosphere.

But it will not work. I prepare to make this dinner hell, see who cracks first.

My hand reaches for my glass, as the first course, sweet pea ragout, is served.

"I assumed," I say coolly, "only women wear engagement rings. And after the men propose."

Sakura laughs. "You can say that tradition made me a little impatient. And it did feel unfair that a man can call dibs on a woman, but not the reverse."

I place on a smirk. "Such trust."

"Formality," she states, not the bit fazed. Then, with a wink, "And protection. Nothing else works better as a chastity belt than a ring. So if those college girls are still giving you a hard time, Sasuke..."

"Women are nothing to fear. I will manage."

She leans back. "Ever change your mind, give me a call, and I'll set you up with my dealer. Their silver is truly beautiful."

"Silver tarnishes."

"True; silver is not meant to be slipped on and forgotten. One must take very special care of it," she replies, lowering her eyelids. "Constantly."

"I'm afraid that will not suit me then."

"I suppose not."

We finish. The plates switch. Gratin dauphinoise. How safe.

"So, Sasuke, you probably have some questions as of now. What would you like to ask me?"

"What do you feel you need to explain?"

"Nothing." She bites, swallows. "But I can douse some of your curiosity.

"As you know, after graduation, I went to Europe – job opportunity. Several actually, but they were disappointing. I even thought about returning to Harvard for a MBA. But then, I met someone... interesting, and through a long, windy story I shall not grace you with, I found myself in Munich, on behalf of a collapsing firm. Negotiated with a company under your brother, who has done a fabulous job of monopolizing every damn thing in the blasted country."

Itachi smiles. "You exaggerate."

"I wish," Sakura sighs, then returns her attention to me. "They were all brutal, relentless bastards. After we were bought, you can say I had no choice but to play on his team. My job was of circumstance, our first meeting also accidental, but the rest was intentional."

"That all?"

"I'm also pregnant."

Both my brother and I nearly spit out our wine. Perfect timing on her behalf, as the waiters come just then and switch plates – langoustine, and glasses – Chardonnay.

Sakura controls her laughter. "I apologize, but I am engaged to my ex's brother. It felt necessary."

"You-"

"Maybe in a drama, but there exists condoms in reality," she chuckles. "But that factor would be nonetheless interesting and quite... binding. Legally, of course. Enough for me to not need this dinner."

I can barely control my shaking, as I tightly clutch the silverware.

She keeps the smile and twinkling eyes, bringing the food to her lips. Then hesitates and lowers her fork, the smile becoming more subdued, less humorous.

"A pity how even if you finally capture the queen, you must still knock down the king to win," she whispers, settling down her food.

With a renewed fierceness in her eyes, she leans on the table and laces her fingers. "Enough small talk, Sasuke. You are always for concision, so allow me: I want your brother. I want our wedding the end of spring. I've already gained your mother and father's permission in Vienna and Tokyo, and I am now here for yours, out of both courtesy and by Itachi's request. So just say yes, and you are free from the rest of this insufferable dinner."

Now is the time to put up the cold countenance, the eyes of condescension, maybe a sneer of 'you bother me with this?'

Go ahead.

Sign the contract; make each other mutually miserable.

I do not care what happens in her life, nor his, just as that victorious gleam in her eyes supposes.

Three words escape my lips. "And if denied?"

Green eyes widen briefly. But then again, she comes prepared.

"Then we move on to negotiations. You'll obviously have no inclination to say yes unless this benefits you, so... Itachi, will you do the honors?"

My brother is still silently examining me, as he has this entire dinner. I keep my facade, as I have this entire dinner. He may always see through me, but I will not let him this time, as I stare back, awaiting his response.

Entertain me, dear brother. Here I am, in clear discontent, still hating you for never telling me, still hating you for taking a woman I might have mixed feelings for, a woman I am equally displeased with at the moment.

She with her tardiness, blithe humor, gall.

Believing she deserves my brother.

That she has a right to him, because of a piece of jewelry she forced on his finger.

Treating him as a possession, an asset to be bargained for. Capable of being bought off our mother, our father, and now, me.

What can you possibly say, dear brother, for me to not throw this wine glass at that bitch's triumphant face this instant.

A silence.

Then,

"... did you enjoy my company, Sasuke?" Itachi quietly asks instead, throwing me off guard.

What does-

He closes his eyes. "I could not comfort our mother during her illness. I missed my best friend's wedding day. And you, I have not stopped thinking about our last phone call."

I freeze, as he opens his eyes, his expression, for the first time, purely honest. "My little brother number one, earned the privilege of delivering a speech before his graduating class, and I had to tell him I could not make it. He gave me nothing but pride that day, and I returned him nothing but disappointment.

"Too many times that has happened, too many times my own ambitions have taken over what I sometimes want more than anything else. And when I do see you, it always ends like this. A quarrel, a conflict... I would like it to stop.

"So, I ask you, Sasuke. Before this morning, did you at least enjoy your time with me? Would you like to see me again?

"Because Sakura... Sakura has proven herself capable of managing the company, handled the deal wondrously. And after the wedding, should there be a wedding, I plan to place the entire Munich Project in her hands. My most daring project, my most challenging, and my last."

I am numb down to my fingers. "What do you mean last?" I ask shakily.

He nods his head in concession, a sad smile gracing his lips, before he sends me his death sentence.

"For you... for everyone I hold dear... I wish to retire."