Chapter 5
Yuki
Sitting at a table with Masaki and Kentaro, I have zero appetite and only sip on my tea.
Since the incident at the club, I can’t stop thinking about the foreign couple. It was such an unnecessary waste of life. Even Sho. I didn’t like him, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.
Masaki checks a message on his phone, then shoots Kentaro a glare that makes him bristle. “A meeting has been called where they will vote on your punishment.”
Kentaro is in for a world of pain. Serves him right.
Masaki narrows his eyes on me, and leaning his forearms on the table, he drops his voice low. “More guards are being sent to protect you. Apparently, the foreigners belong to the Sicilian mafia. Finish your tea so we can leave.”
“Did Mr. Vitale survive?” I dare to ask before I carry out the order and drink the last of my beverage.
“Yes.” While answering, Masaki signals for a server so he can pay for our lunch.
Hearing the good news fills me with relief.
Once the bill has been settled, we get up and head out of the restaurant. It’s one of Masaki’s favorite places to come for lunch because his uncle owns it.
As we walk to the car, a group of men catches my attention on the other side of the road. While all my alarm bells go off, my eyes get stuck on one of the men, who’s reaching for something behind his back.
He has caramel brown hair, and his face is set in a brutal look that sends shivers racing down my spine. I notice the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and they disappear beneath the cuffs of his shirt and suit jacket.
Even though I can feel the danger coming off him, my feet come to a sudden standstill because I’ve never seen anyone more attractive.
Just as Masaki and Kentaro spot the group, I notice the men are all armed, and it makes fear shudder through me.
“The Sicilians!” Masaki shouts as he opens fire on them while shoving me hard in the direction of the restaurant. “Run!”
My fight or flight instinct kicks in, and as I dart back toward the entrance, three bullets hit Masaki in the chest while Kentaro is shot in the leg.
A shriek gets stuck in my throat, my heart beating wildly as my breaths rush over my parted lips.
I hear glass shatter as I weave my way through the tables, and when I barge into the kitchen, I shout, “Armed men!”
Suddenly, someone grabs hold of my hoodie, and they yank so hard on it, I’m strangled as I’m ripped off my feet.
There’s a hard blow to the side of my head, and when the person lets go of my hoodie, I’m shoved forward and sprawl over the tiles. Dazed and terrified, I scramble to my feet, but then I’m grabbed by the front of my hoodie, and the next instant, a fist connects brutally hard with my cheek.
Stars explode behind my eyes, and when my vision comes back, it focuses on the man I thought was attractive. He lets out an enraged growl as his fist connects with my face again.
Kuso!
I’m no stranger to pain, but the man’s strength makes it feel like my face is being split in half.
I’m caught in a nauseating wave of dizziness, my cheek and jaw throbbing, and when the man lets go of my hoodie, I slump back onto the tiles. Gasping for air, tears sneak out of my eyes, my mind too stunned to form a coherent thought.
“Bring the fucker,” I hear the man say in English, his accent American.
Two men come to hook their hands under my armpits, then I’m dragged through the restaurant. I let out a groan, my head lolling to the side.
My vision comes and goes, and I see flashes of scared faces. Out on the sidewalk, I’m dragged past the lifeless body of Masaki. Even though he was never nice to me, I still feel a pang of loss.
I don’t see Kentaro, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder if he managed to get away.
So much for being my guard.
My senses start to grow sharper again, and as we reach a sedan, I begin to struggle in an attempt to get free. The two men don’t even break a sweat as they stuff me into the trunk of a car, and when it slams shut, engulfing me in darkness, a distressed sound escapes me.
I hear muffled voices, and a few seconds later, the engine starts.
Lifting my hands, I frantically search the trunk for anything I can use as a weapon, but there’s nothing.
With every mile they drive, my heartbeat speeds up until I’m breathless, and a cold sweat dampens my hair and skin.
My face aches all over, and lifting a trembling hand, I probe my already swelling cheek and jaw.
It’s only then that the realization hits like a ten-pound hammer.
They’re probably going to kill me.
An icy shiver ghosts over my entire body, and my tongue goes numb with terror.
I hate my life, but I don’t want to die.
I want to see Ryo again. Maybe once he takes over, he will give me back my life and protect me.
That’s the hope that’s kept me going all these years.
With my panicked gasps filling the air, I struggle not to burst out in tears.
The car comes to a stop, and instantly, my heart flutters like a caged bird. Every muscle in my body tenses, and when I hear footsteps right outside the trunk and it opens, I turn onto my back and begin to hit and kick with all my might.
It’s useless, though.
A man I haven’t seen before delivers two quick punches to my head, the blows rattling my brain so much I’m swallowed by darkness. For the longest moment, it sounds like I’m underwater, and I can’t regain control of my senses.
I have no idea how much time passes, but once my hearing and sight begin to return, I hear the sound of painful grunts coming from Kentaro. He must’ve survived the attack and has also been captured.
It feels like I’m lying on a hard surface, and for a few seconds, I listen while trying to make sense of my surroundings.
“Do you know who I am?” I hear a deep voice growl, his tone dark and ruthless.
“Baka,” Kentaro spits. “The Yakuza will kill you.”
I dare to open my eyes a little, and seeing Kentaro in a kneeling position in front of the man who hit me in the restaurant kitchen, more icy terror pours through my veins.
Where I thought he was the most attractive man I had ever seen when I first laid eyes on him, all I see now is a vicious monster.
There’s blood pooling by Kentaro’s knee from the gunshot to his thigh, and his face is covered with cuts and bruises.
I notice we’re in some kind of hangar. Outside, I see part of a jet and black SUVs and sedans.
The man crouches so he’s almost eye level with Kentaro.
“I’m Augusto Vitale,” he says. “Because of you, my brother is in the hospital right now.”
“Good.” Kentaro chuckles while sneering at Augusto. “Sicilian shit.” He spits at Augusto, and it has my eyes going wide.
Kuso. Kuso. Kuso.
Augusto holds out his hand and snarls, “Knife.”
Struck with horror, I watch as one of his men hands him a blade with sharp jagged edges.
Augusto doesn’t break eye contact with Kentaro, grabbing him behind the neck.
He holds him firmly in place, and as he brings the knife toward Kentaro’s throat, my guard tries to rear back while grabbing hold of Augusto’s arm.
My heart thunders wildly in my chest as I scramble to my feet. Just as I turn to run, Augusto lets out a savage sounding growl while he slowly pushes the knife into Kentaro’s neck until the sharp tip comes out the other side.
As Kentaro’s eyes widen with shock, they lock on me for a second, and somehow he’s able to groan, “Run!”
While my mind is reeling, my body listens, and I sprint as fast as I can toward the opening.
“Get the fucker!” Augusto roars, and the fear his threatening tone injects into me makes me push even harder.
Just as I reach the opening, something pings off the metal doors beside me.
“Don’t fucking kill him!”
Fear has me glancing back, and as I make eye contact with a man who seems to be in his late twenties, he plows into me, and I’m tackled off my feet.
My shoulder hits the ground so hard, it forces all the air from my lungs. I feel my shoulder pop out of its socket, and it sends a wave of crippling pain through my arm, neck, and upper body.
I’m still trying to get a breath of air in past all the pain when I’m hauled to my feet and dragged back into the hangar. Kentaro’s lifeless body is now lying in a puddle of blood that's slowly creeping over the ground.
Horror floods every inch of my mind and body, and I expect to be forced down to my knees so Augusto can kill me too, but instead, I’m left standing in front of the terrifying man who’s as big as a bear.
I can’t stop myself from looking down at Kentaro’s vacant eyes.
My lips part, and for a weak moment, I consider pleading for my life. I consider telling them I’m not Ryo, but a more terrifying thought settles like acid in my stomach.
There are much worse things they can do to me if they realize I’m a woman.
For the past decade, all I wanted was to be a normal girl. I wanted to wear pretty dresses and makeup, grow my hair long, and go on dates.
But as the group of dangerous men surrounds me, I realize that looking like a man is the best thing for me right now.
I have to keep up the act.
I’ve never fought anyone before, never mind a violent mafia boss, but knowing it’s expected of me, I lunge forward with a growl. As I swing my fist at Augusto’s face, his hand shoots up and stops me by grabbing hold of my forearm.
The man is easily twice my size, and as he takes a threatening step closer to me, his eyes lock with mine.
Seeing a promise of pain and a thirst for revenge in his green irises, I know I’m going to suffer a lot before they kill me.
I won’t get a quick death like Kentaro and Masaki.
His fist connects with my ribs, and once again, all the air is forced from my lungs as a searing pain seizes my entire chest.
I’m shoved down to the floor, and when I try to catch myself with my left arm, I’m reminded of my dislocated shoulder when it gives way beneath me and my entire torso throbs horribly.
“Fucking pathetic,” Augusto says as he looks at me with disgust. “Didn’t your father train you to fight?”
I refuse to answer the question and instead struggle back to my feet. My head spins with dizziness, and for a couple of seconds, it feels like I’m going to vomit, but then it eases.
Every breath is painful, but I force the air into my lungs.
Augusto holds a device out to me. “Unlock it and call your father.”
I stare at my phone, which I only use to call Masaki and my guards and play games on. I don’t have Father’s number and never contact him.
They’ll kill me if they realize I’m of no use to them.
The thought sends a fresh wave of fear through me, and I press my lips tightly together, refusing to speak.
The man who tackled me and dislocated my shoulder steps toward me and says, “Augusto, the fucker had his hands on my sister.” He shoots me a merciless glare. “I feel it’s only fair I get the first chance to make him talk.”
No. God, his sister must be Gianna. He probably thinks I wanted to hurt her at the club, instead of trying to help her.
Augusto nods at Gianna’s brother before tossing my phone at another man. “I’m going to make a couple of calls. Stay with Enzo, Raffaele.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Enzo,” Augusto says, then he waits for Gianna’s brother to meet his eyes. “Don’t kill him.”
Kuso.
As Augusto stalks toward the entrance, Enzo advances on me. Instinct has me swinging around and running for my life, but a moment later, Enzo’s much bigger body plows into my back, and I hit the ground so hard, I hiccup and searing pain engulfs me.
I twist my body and begin to hit and claw at Gianna’s brother.
I was trying to help her!
One blow after the other, his fist slams into my face, and mercifully, I pass out.