Naruto: The Shameless Uchiha Tycoon

Ren adjusted the cuffs of his midnight-blue silk haori.

Five years had passed since he first arrived in the Fire Capital as a thirteen-year-old boy. The awkward edges of youth were entirely gone. He was eighteen now, built broad and sharp by a billionaire’s diet and blatantly unfair Uchiha genetics.

He didn’t look like a rich kid playing merchant anymore. He looked like the man who owned the banks.

”Stop admiring yourself,” Kakuzu grumbled from the opposite seat.

The massive missing-nin was stuffed into heavy, indigo court robes. The high collar perfectly hid his stitched jaw.

”I am calculating if this evening is financially viable,” Kakuzu complained, narrowing his green eyes. ”These robes cost me four hundred thousand ryo. And the carriage valet at the Daimyo’s estate just charged us a fifty-ryo premium parking fee. It is extortion.”

”Kakuzu, we own the silk farm,” Ren pointed out, highly amused. ”You essentially paid yourself.”

Kakuzu’s heavy brow furrowed as he ran the math. ”Then the left pocket is stealing from the right. It’s the principle of the matter.”

”The purpose, my dear CFO, is the harvest,” Ren chuckled.

The carriage stopped. An attendant pulled the door open, and Ren stepped out into the cool evening air.

The Daimyo’s estate was a sprawling monument to opulence. The grand hall glowed with crystal chandeliers, packed with the highest-ranking nobles and politicians of the Fire Country.

Ren handed his overcoat to a servant and walked through the grand double doors.

He didn’t command a dramatic silence, but the shift in the room was obvious. Conversations dropped in pitch. Eyes darted his way.

Five years ago, the noblewomen had treated him like a cute novelty. They had pinched his cheeks and joked behind their fans about ’saving him for later’.

Well, it was officially later.

As Ren strolled toward the center of the room, he plucked a glass of plum wine from a passing tray. The painted paper fans practically dropped to the floor. The women who used to pat him on the head were now staring at him like a prime cut of wagyu beef.

It was shameless, and Ren found it absolutely hilarious.

”My, my, Uchiha-san,” a familiar voice purred.

Lady Shizuka stepped into his path. She was a high-ranking minister’s wife who had boldly slipped a jade token into his obi years ago. She closed the distance and placed a manicured hand right on his bicep, squeezing the muscle through his silk haori.

”You have certainly... grown,” Shizuka murmured, eyeing his chest. ”I hardly recognized you.”

”Good evening, Lady Shizuka,” Ren smiled effortlessly. ”The capital air has been good to me.”

”It certainly has,” she leaned in close, smelling of sweet lotus oil. ”My husband is visiting the hot springs in the north this weekend. I suddenly have a profound interest in learning how your apothecary business operates. Perhaps you could give me a hands-on demonstration?”

Ren took a slow sip of his wine, hiding a smirk. Before he could answer, the temperature in their small circle seemed to drop.

Lady Katsura walked up, cutting Shizuka off with a single, sharp look.

As the wife of the Eastern Port Governor, Katsura commanded absolute authority. She was breathtaking, draped in a deep violet furisode kimono that hugged her flawless curves. Silver combs secured her dark hair, exposing the elegant line of her neck.

Shizuka wisely offered a tight bow and backed away into the crowd.

Katsura didn’t bother with subtle fan-fluttering. She stepped right into Ren’s personal space, looking up at him with dark, predatory eyes.

”Five years ago,” Katsura said, her voice a low hum meant only for him, ”I told a very cute, very arrogant boy to come back and see me when he was a man.”

Ren’s smirk broke through. He didn’t step back.

”I remember,” Ren replied smoothly. ”You gave me a brass key to your private gardens in the southern hills. I was told it was an investment.”

”It was,” Katsura whispered.

She reached out. Her manicured fingers traced the lapel of his dark haori, her nails lightly scratching against the expensive fabric. Her hand stopped right over his chest, feeling the solid, mature muscle underneath.

”And looking at you right now, Uchiha-san...” Katsura murmured, her gaze dragging up to his dark eyes. ”I would say the investment has matured beautifully.”

Ren chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. ”I still have the key.”

Katsura’s breath hitched. A flush of genuine heat rose to her pale cheeks. She leaned in, closing the final inch. Her lips brushed just a fraction of an inch from his ear.

The rich scent of expensive jasmine perfume filled his senses.

”My husband is in the Water Country until next month,” Katsura whispered, her voice vibrating with raw anticipation. ”I sent the estate guards home for the night. The southern hills. Use the key, Ren. Midnight.”

She pulled back slowly. She gave him one last, lingering look that promised absolute ruin, then turned and walked away. Her hips swayed deliberately beneath the heavy violet silk as she disappeared into the crowd.

Ren stood there for a long moment, the ghost of her perfume lingering in the air.

He lifted his glass and finished his plum wine in one smooth tilt. He handed the empty glass to a stunned servant and adjusted his collar.

He didn’t care about the gala anymore. It was almost midnight, and he had a very lucrative investment to collect.

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