3. Kenzo
CHAPTER 3
KENZO
To the side of the elevators, I take a door marked Staff Only. Inside, the walls are concrete, and every so often, there’s a room. Some doors are labeled for the regular resort staff—storage, offices, break rooms—but anything unmarked is for the yakuza.
I stop at the first unmarked door without a window. I tap the surface, and the door cracks open.
An enforcer lets me in, and the prisoner sits handcuffed to an o-ring on top of the metal table. Red marks circle his wrists, like he struggled against the handcuffs at first. Streaks of brown hair mix through his ruffled gray strands. His face is puffy from a beating, his lips cracked. He’s got a black eye too. That’s good. It’s always sad when they don’t fight. Boring too.
“I-I-I thought I was—” he stammers, but I shush him like a baby as I slide into the seat across from him.
“What are you in here for?” I ask.
“I—” He looks down at his lap. “I put my arm around the yakuza member’s wife.”
I gasp with drama in my veins, playing it up. Normally, the kanbu —one of our senior members—doesn’t have a lead role in our organization, but that doesn’t matter in a situation like this. We protect our own. The disrespect, no matter who you are in the yakuza, is the same.
And you don’t mess with a yakuza member’s wife.
“I’m surprised you’re still alive.” I chuckle. The prisoner’s chapped lips tremble, and I whistle. “And how exactly are you going to pay your dues for that infraction?”
“M-my niece, sir,” he says.
“A niece, hmm?” I ask. “You’d give up your niece to clear your name?”
“If it will h-help her, then I have to do what’s right.”
My nostrils flare. “And how do you have that much authority over your niece?”
“I-I-I’ve raised her since she was a kid.”
“You’re like a father to her then.” I run a hand over the stubble on my chin. I nod deeply, pretending to be amused. “But giving your niece to the yakuza isn’t being a good uncle now, is it?”
“But you could protect her, couldn’t you?” he asks, his voice suddenly full of adrenaline. “Your boss mentioned an arranged marriage. I could rest easy as long as I knew she was safe and comfortable.” He scans me with tears in his eyes. “You’ll take good care of her, won’t you?”
Tension swims in his expression like a cat circling a koi fish pond, and I know there’s something else there, another angle he’s working at. Tomo didn’t mention an arranged marriage to me, but if his niece passes my test, then why not marry her? I can use a reliable date to those charity functions.
But protect her? That’s a different story. We protect everyone in the yakuza’s ranks, but if she becomes my wife, she’ll still be in the mafia. Organized crime is always dangerous.
I grip the prisoner’s shoulder. He’s one optimistic idiot.
“Only if I decide to take her,” I say.
“Where is she?” he says, his tone full of panic. As if all I need is to see his niece to agree to the legal union. “Wait—my phone!” He swings his head around to the enforcer. “Show him! Show him her picture! She’s beautiful! I’ll prove it!”
The enforcer hands the prisoner’s phone to me. I’ve already seen his niece—in a blindfold, anyway. Still, I hold up the device while the prisoner types in the password from his handcuffs, then I flick to the gallery. There’s only one picture available, almost like the prisoner prepared his phone for this exact situation. Something is off.
But I lose my train of thought when my eyes land on her picture.
The same reddish-orange hair I saw in the other cell. Pink lips. And big blue eyes. She’s hypnotizing, like a love song, like a set of lyrics meant to comfort you while you look into her eyes and see your future.
I stare at her photo for a second too long, and though there’s something about her that calls to me, beauty alone isn’t enough. There’s something else there. A sadness, dull and pale across her gaze. There’s a hunger in her expression too, like a flame on the verge of igniting, and it goes deeper than her sweet exterior.
That spark, that hunger in her eyes— that’s what I want.
I pull myself out of the daze. The fear from the prisoner’s eyes is gone now, replaced with greed, like he knows I won’t be able to refuse. Almost like he wants to give away his niece.
“She’s a virgin, you know,” he says. “Completely untouched. Like forbidden fruit.”
My lips curl at those words. A sour taste coats my mouth. He’s trying to entice me, but I almost want to protect her from her uncle now. If her own father figure is willing to offer his niece to the Japanese mafia, what else is he willing to do to her?
This is still business though, and our negotiations must be completed.
“How old is she?” I ask.
“Twenty-five.”
I run a hand over my mouth. A mid-twenties virgin would know better, and that would make her harder to crack. I like an interesting challenge.
But how does her uncle know she’s a virgin? He may be lying. Either way, he probably thinks the marriage will give him the ability to live off of us through his niece. But that’s not how life works in the Endo-kai. He’s lucky Tomo even thought to ask me about his offer.
In the grand scheme of things, this prisoner is insignificant. We can kill him, and no one will blink. I’m sure our kanbu would appreciate it.
But for me, this is a puzzle. Something to break up the blandness. A buzzing weight spreads across my chest as I imagine the possible games I could play with a woman like her. Innocent, yet full of spite. Oh, the fun I could have with her. My personal little toy. A woman trapped in my arena.
I make decisions, and I own them. And right now, I have no date and a gala to attend. His niece is perfect.
“If you prefer men,” he starts. “I’ve got a son too?—”
I cut him off: “Let me discuss it with the boss.”
Back in the lounge, Tomo is still at the bar, working on his second or third whisky, and Cherry is clutching a water bottle like she’s got money on one of the car races. She scrunches her nose at me like I smell. I probably do. But instead of starting playful sibling banter with her, I get down to the specifics. I’m too curious about the prisoner’s niece for verbal sparring right now.
“Did you feel anything off about him?” I ask Tomo.
“Told you,” Cherry cuts in, smirking at Tomo.
Tomo turns to me. “Cherry said she thinks he’s hiding something, but all I see is a desperate urchin. But the niece is perfect, eh? Put her in a ball gown, and she’ll blend in.”
“You told him an arranged marriage is an option?” I ask.
Tomo scrubs a hand over his face. “Weren’t you saying you wanted something different lately? Maybe you need a wife. It would benefit our public image and these events.” He grunts in annoyance. “Everyone wants Samurai Corporation at their charity balls.”
Tomo hates those events, which is why I’m the face of our front-facing company. I can charm my way out of anything, and I blackmail myself out of the rest.
“I don’t know about a wife yet,” I say with amusement. “But I’ll give her a test run.”
Cherry rolls her eyes. “She’s not a sports car.”
I lift my shoulders. “I’m not going to commit to marriage until I know she can ride.”
Cherry scoffs. “At least do her a favor and propose the proper way.”
I wink. “Don’t worry. She’ll get a ring.”
A buzz of energy ripples through me at the thought. This is a new adventure, the entertainment I’ve been waiting for. I usually screw and leave women—my playboy habits and my criminal lifestyle get in the way of long-term commitments—but this? This is a challenge. A potential wife.
Maybe she’ll even be my partner-in-crime one day.
“As for the prisoner?” I ask. “Is he free to leave?”
Tomo shakes his head, then motions for me to lean in closer.
“Are you ready?” Tomo asks. I raise a brow. A grin spreads across Tomo’s lips. “Let’s teach him a lesson.”
Pride swells in my chest. I swear the boss loves making torture a group effort, looks at it like a bonding activity. In a way, it’s a part of his legacy. Family, whether it be by blood or by yakuza, is everything. He even ends the bonding ritual by signing Endo-kai into the traitor’s hand. And now, my possible future uncle-in-law will forever carry our mark with him.
I wonder what my potential wife will think of that.