Chapter 75 CHAPTER 75
A Curious Neighbor
Sunday afternoons in Japan carried a different kind of rhythm for Ares Langford. The city outside was alive bustling streets, neon advertisements, and the endless pulse of Tokyo’s energy but within the high gates of his sprawling mansion, the air was calm. It was the calm he had carved deliberately, the quiet life he wanted for his children, far from Dubai, far from the US, far from the watchful eyes of Tessa, Chloe and his parents.
The late autumn sun filtered through the tall windows of the sitting room, bathing everything in a soft amber glow. Plush Persian rugs spread across the polished wooden floors, and the faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the half-open patio doors where the wind carried it in.
Ares sat on the long sectional couch with his three children gathered around him, their laughter filling the room like music. Julian sat nearby, legs crossed on the single armchair, watching with a half smile.
“Daddy, higher!” Kamal giggled as Ares lifted him into the air, spinning him around in a slow circle before setting him back on the couch.
“Again, Daddy!” Jamal cried, bouncing on the cushions.
Ares chuckled, ruffling Jamal’s hair. “You’ll both make me dizzy if I keep spinning you like this.”
Pretty and Beauty clung to his arm, eyes wide and serious as always, though a small smile tugged at their lips. “Don’t drop them, Daddy.”
“I would never,” Ares said, kissing the top of their heads. “You’re my treasures. All of you.”
Julian leaned back, folding his arms. “Careful, boss. They’ll gang up on you soon. Four against one.”
“Then it will be a fair fight,” Ares replied, grinning.
The sound of their laughter echoed again until it slowly mellowed into yawns. By the time the grandfather clock in the corner struck four, the children were rubbing their eyes, fighting sleep.
The nannies—two soft spoken women in neat uniforms entered with warm smiles, gently ushering the kids toward the staircase.
“Say goodnight to Daddy,” one nanny said softly.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” the four children chorused sleepily, each kissing Ares on the cheek before being guided upstairs.
When the sound of their footsteps faded, silence settled into the room again. The quiet was not heavy this time, but peaceful. Ares exhaled, stretching his legs out, the weight of fatherhood pressing on him in a way he secretly cherished.
Julian shifted in his chair, finally breaking the quiet. “They’re good kids, Ares. Strong, like you.”
“They’re stronger than me,” Ares replied. He poured himself a glass of red wine from the decanter on the table, swirling it absently. “Children don’t know how cruel the world is yet. That’s their strength.”
Julian studied him for a moment, then took a glass for himself. “And that’s why you built all this. The house, the move, the private school. To keep them safe.”
“To keep them hidden,” Ares corrected. He sipped the wine, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Safety is an illusion. But obscurity…that’s harder for my enemies to touch.”
Julian didn’t argue. He understood. He had been by Ares’s side long enough to know that every smile, every soft family moment, was built on a foundation of ruthless calculation.
The men sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping wine, until the rumble of trucks reached them faintly from outside. The noise broke the stillness.
Julian turned his head toward the window. “Sounds like someone’s moving in next door.”
Ares’s brows lifted. “Next door?”
Julian nodded. “The mansion across the east lawn. You know the one.”
Ares leaned back against the couch, a flicker of curiosity lighting his face. “That property was for sale for months. No one ever dared to buy it—too close to me, I suppose.”
Julian smirked. “Well, someone dared now. The movers have been unloading all afternoon. Furniture, crates, even a grand piano.”
Ares tilted his head, amused. “A grand piano? My, my. Our mysterious neighbor must have expensive taste.”
Julian shrugged. “Rumor says it’s not just anyone. Word in town is the new owner is…a reverend sister.”
The wine glass paused in Ares’s hand. “A reverend sister?”
“That’s what the realtor told the staff at the school,” Julian confirmed. His eyes twinkled slightly with mischief. “A woman of God, cloaked in white, moving into a mansion worth over fifty million yen.”
Ares chuckled, shaking his head. “Either she prays harder than anyone I’ve ever met, or she’s a very extravagant nun.”
Julian laughed too, the sound deep and warm. “Extravagant, materialistic, and holy. Quite the combination.”
“Quite the contradiction,” Ares agreed, leaning back with a smirk. “Imagine vowing poverty but choosing marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Hypocrisy wears a collar these days.”
They both laughed, their amusement echoing through the room. The image was too absurd to resist.
Julian lifted his glass in a mock toast. “To our pious neighbor. May her mansion be filled with holy water and designer handbags.”
Ares clinked his glass against Julian’s, shaking his head. “If she’s truly a reverend sister, then she must be the most materialistic one Japan has ever seen.”
The two men drank, the sound of their laughter carrying into the quiet house, while outside, the moving trucks continued to unload under the fading Sunday light.
And in the mansion across the lawn, shadows stirred.