Chapter 37 Rafael
RAFAEL
Unlike the last time we came blasting through the front gates of the Tanaka estate, this time, they open readily as the Murray brothers pull up, just three men in an armored car.
The high walls that surround the traditional Japanese-style home loom above, vast and impenetrable as we roll down the long drive to the courtyard.
My mouth goes dry at the sight before me.
It’s been cleaned up since the last time I came barreling into Tatsuo’s home, though I can still see the remnants of destruction in the broken statues that line the path.
Unlike last time, Tatsuo’s men are in full view, their weapons in hand as they silently close in around the vehicle, following us toward the house.
Somewhere on the outskirts of the property, hidden in the trees, my brother should be convening with Callum Murray, preparing to invade the Japanese fortress.
But my pulse still races as we enter the lion’s den with practically nothing to defend ourselves, nothing to ensure Aisling’s safety as she tempts death right beside me.
My hands are zip-tied behind my back, my shoulders pulled tight by the Murray brothers gripping my arms as they drag me from the back seat and march me up the front steps of the Tanaka home.
It’s theater, all of it for Tatsuo’s benefit. For the Yakuza soldiers lining the perimeter with guns and blades and dead eyes.
I keep my head up. If I’m going to die today, I won’t do it bowed.
I feel Aisling behind me—that pull in my chest, sharp and frantic, dragging my gaze sideways until I find her cloistered between her brothers.
She’s pale, eyes too bright, her hands clenched in the fabric of her coat like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. She looks terrified.
Good. It means she hasn’t gone numb, and I need her senses on full alert if she’s going to achieve her part of the plan. She’s the lynchpin to it all, the key piece in our strategy. If she doesn’t get Riley out, then everything will fall apart.
I’ve never been inside the Tanaka house before.
It’s beautiful, understated, steeped in tradition but with an elegant modern twist, and for a fleeting moment, I almost regret that we’re going to burn it to the ground.
Then my eyes land on the man responsible for all the pain my family has endured these past several months.
Tatsuo Tanaka waits at the center of the entryway, flanked by guards.
He looks smaller than I remember, older—even just since the gala.
His hair is more gray than black now, his posture stiff with arrogance rather than strength.
A king who let his son do all the killing.
And it’s cost him everything. Even his sanity. I can see it in the burning depths of his dark eyes as Ryan Murray shoves me to my knees in front of him.
“We brought you Rafael Chiaroscuro,” Ryan says coolly. “Just like you asked. Now, where’s Riley?”
Tatsuo’s mad gaze rakes over me, lingering on my face with unmistakable satisfaction. “You failed to follow my orders. I asked for his head as a sign of your renewed loyalty to me.”
Ryan snorts. “If you want it, you can take it yourself. I’m not interested in doing other people’s dirty work.”
A flicker of amusement crosses Tatsuo’s face. “Bold. Or foolish.”
“That depends on how this ends. We’re willing to work with you. But you’ve proven how flimsy your word is, and you’re currently still holding onto something that doesn’t belong to you.”
The statement has more layers than one, reminding Tatsuo that he didn’t just kidnap Riley—he failed to give the Murrays the territory they were promised.
And cold animosity flickers beneath the surface of the old man’s scrutiny, making my pulse race.
“Rusty on your negotiation techniques, Tatsuo?” I goad.
It’s risky, speaking up right now, but if I don’t, I’m worried the half-mad oyabun might do something drastic before Aisling can get her hands on Riley.
I can feel my wife quivering beside me, brimming with fear and fury, and keep my eyes locked ahead of me.
Because I know that if I look at her, I’ll lose my head.
“Maybe if you incentivized the Murrays, they’d be more willing to get the job done. You know, show them the girl is still alive? Or are you telling me that an unpracticed, untried Don like me knows more about negotiations than you?”
I can hear the old man’s teeth grinding all the way from here, and his men’s hands twitch toward their blades. Maybe I took it a step too far.
Then Aisling’s hand comes out of nowhere, sharp and vengeful as she slaps me hard enough to make my ears ring. “You’re done speaking about my family like we’re trained dogs who can be won over with a treat. Let the grown-ups talk,” she commands like the queen she is.
God, but as I lift my eyes to hers, I’ve never been more in love with her than I am right now.
She’s fierce and defiant and so damn strong, I’m certain the whole world could collapse around her and she’d still be standing if that’s what it took to protect our daughter.
And still, I can catch the glimmer of apology in her azure eyes. I give her the smallest nod of encouragement—then suck my split lip into my mouth and spit blood at her feet.
Tatsuo claps his hands once, making Aisling start, and she whirls to face him as Cillian and Patrick pull their sister back to safety.
“I like you,” the old oyabun says, his dark eyes sparkling as he smiles at Aisling. “For you, dear, I’ll compromise.” Then he casts a sharp gaze toward two of his men. “Bring the girl.”
I catch the sound of a sliding door opening down the hall, then a small, frightened gasp.
My breath punches out of me as Riley is brought forward between the two guards, her tiny hand clenched around a stuffed rabbit that looks like it’s been dragged through hell. Her hair is mussed, her cheeks tear-streaked. My daughter.
Aisling makes a broken sound, straining forward, only stopped by one of her brothers’ hands on her arms.
“Riley,” she breathes, dropping to her knees and opening her arms.
The guards release her, and Riley stumbles forward.
“Sissy!” She runs.
Aisling catches her as Riley launches herself into her mother’s arms, and they cling to each other, Aisling burying her face in Riley’s hair, sobbing openly now, her whole body shaking.
Relief detonates inside my chest so violently, it hurts.
She’s alive. She’s safe. For one impossible, breathless moment, nothing else matters.
Tatsuo watches the reunion with detached interest.
“Thank you,” Aisling murmurs, finding Tatsuo over Riley’s dark curls, then she turns toward the door, Cillian and Patrick flanking her.
Tatsuo raises a hand, and the guards move, barricading her exit with partially drawn swords.
Aisling turns, Riley still clutched tightly against her, confusion flickering across her face. “What’s going on?”
Tatsuo steps forward. “The exchange isn’t complete.”
Ryan stiffens beside me, his hand on my shoulder clenching reflexively. “We’ve given you what you want.”
“I asked for his head,” Tatsuo replies smoothly. “It’s still attached.”
My blood runs cold, and I swallow hard, my eyes sliding shut. He’s going to make them watch—Aisling and Riley. The bastard.
Tatsuo’s gaze slides to each of the Murray brothers. “One of you will do it. Prove your loyalty.”
Aisling’s head snaps back. “No. Please.” Her voice shakes, but it’s fierce. “You promised.”
“I promised Riley’s release,” Tatsuo says, “once you deliver Rafael Chiaroscuro’s head to me.”
Sensing the danger, Riley presses her face into Aisling’s shoulder, burying it beneath her mother’s beautiful crimson hair. Aisling tightens her hold on our daughter, her lips paling as she presses them into a thin line.
“Please,” Aisling says, desperation cracking her voice. “She’s just a child. She doesn’t need to see this.”
Tatsuo smiles thinly. “Then cover her eyes.”
He draws his katana, the blade singing as it leaves its sheath, and extends it toward the Murray brothers. Silence stretches, thick and suffocating. No one moves. I can feel Ryan’s indecision beside me, his sense of honor and loyalty warring with his desire to protect Aisling and Riley.
I knew it might come to this. I don’t want to die. Not now that I have something to live for. But I’m ready. It’s the easiest sacrifice I will ever have to make if it means saving my wife and daughter.
Still, the moment stretches, and my stomach sinks as I realize I’ve misjudged the Murrays.
I was certain that when push came to shove, they would see this through if that’s what it took. But it would seem I was mistaken.
Not one of them has taken the katana. I should have known better.
I should have asked Aisling to do it, made her promise that if push came to shove, she would.
She’s the only one I could trust to do what needs to be done—no matter what.
But it’s too late now.
She has her arms wrapped so tightly around our daughter, she couldn’t kill me if she wanted.
Tatsuo’s smile widens. “That’s what I thought.”
His gaze snaps back to me. “In that case, I’ll do it myself. And then I’ll kill you all.”
My heart hammers, but my mind is suddenly crystal clear. I just need to buy Aisling enough time—create a big enough distraction that her brothers can help her fight her way out the door.
“You don’t have the spine, old man,” I challenge, lifting my chin as if to invite him to do his worst. “You no longer have the strength. You’re just an empty husk, shriveled and withering away, waiting for the end.”
Aisling’s breath catches sharply. “Raf, what are you doing?”
I turn my head just enough to meet her captivating gaze.
Riley’s eyes are squeezed shut, Aisling’s hand covering them now, her tears soaking into her daughter’s hair.
And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.
If these are my last few moments on earth, then I’m grateful that this is the image I’ll carry with me down to hell.
The love of my life cradling our perfect little girl in her arms.
I would give everything for her. I will give everything for her, and I’ll do it gladly.
Tatsuo steps closer, raising his katana. “Any last words?”
“Yes.” I look straight at Aisling. “Run.”
Her eyes widen.
The blade flashes toward my neck, coming from the side.
I duck, rolling forward as the katana slices air where my head had been a mere second before. The zip ties bite into my wrists, joints straining as I twist, forcing my hands beneath my hips, then feet until they’re out in front of me. I slam into Tatsuo’s knee hard enough to make him grunt.
Chaos explodes. Gunfire erupts. Shouts echo.
The Murray brothers surge forward as one. Aisling screams my name as I scramble to my feet, adrenaline roaring through my veins, and I catch a glimpse of her glancing over her shoulder toward me, fear written across her face as she sprints for the door.
Riley is clutched tight against her chest as her brothers form a wall around them, shielding my girls as they fight savagely to form an opening for her.
“Stop them!” the oyabun bellows behind me.
With a victorious smile, I turn back to Tatsuo.
He’s faster than he looks, rage sharpening his movements as he swings again. I barely avoid the blade, feeling the wind of it against my throat.
I have no weapon, no room for error as I grab a chair, hurling it at his head.
One of his men bats it aside with a snarl.
“You should have stayed down,” he spits.
“You should have learned your lesson when we killed your son,” I reply.
We circle each other.
He lunges, and I sidestep, slamming my elbow into his ribs, making him grunt.
His blade slashes wildly now, age and fury betraying him.
I catch his wrist with both hands, pain flaring as the katana’s hilt digs into my palms, and we struggle, muscles burning, boots scraping against concrete slick with blood.
He’s stronger than I gave him credit for. But he’s well past his prime. I knee him hard in the stomach, and he stumbles.
Seizing the opening, I wrench the katana free from his grip.
“Bet you’re wishing you didn’t send all your men after my girl now, aren’t you?” I taunt as Tatsuo looks at me, realization dawning too late.
Then the gunfire erupts outside.
The front doors blow inward, blasting off their hinges, and Miko’s roar shakes the walls as he charges in, Sandro a blur of violence at his side.
The Italians flood the space, driving back the Yakuza line in a matter of seconds.
But I barely see any of it.
There’s only Tatsuo as he charges, madness in his eyes. He dives for the katana, and I swing it like a baseball bat.
The blade slices clean, final, decisive.
And with one sweep of the blade, I cleave his head from his shoulders. It rolls across the bamboo slats and into a corner, blood pooling beneath what’s left of his body.
Silence crashes down, broken only by distant shouts as the last of the Yakuza are cut down or flee.
It all happened in what feels like a matter of moments, and I stand there, chest heaving, blood slick on my hands that isn’t all mine.
We’ve won, but all I can think about are Aisling and Riley. Nothing else matters—not the bodies, not the blood. Not the empire we just reclaimed.
I need to know they’re alive. That they’re safe.
In a flash, I sever the zip ties around my wrists, then I drop the katana and run.