31. Vi
CHAPTER 31
VI
I pat down the sides of my dress. Sleek lines show off my curves, cutting off right past my fingertips. Usually, I’m more of a sweater and hoodie kind of person, and this dress is more appropriate for a Michelin three-star restaurant.
But my stomach crawls. Kenzo and Uncle Jay haven’t been in the same room together for a while. With Patrick dead, it seems like Uncle Jay is next…Or maybe Uncle Jay will make Kenzo his first murder. I’ve told Kenzo repeatedly Uncle Jay never hurt me—not like Patrick. But I know Kenzo, and I’m not sure if Uncle Jay will ever be up to his standards.
So why is Uncle Jay good enough for me?
I scowl at myself, then fix my hair. He’s my uncle. He adopted me! And this family dinner was my idea. I was the one who put this family dinner together, as if we could really be one big, happy family. And yet now, I can’t make any sense of it.
Uncle Jay has been different lately; since Patrick died, it’s like he’s a frustrated workaholic, putting all of his energy into the deal with our secret client.
Finally, he had said when I told him about the family dinner. I can scout out the information myself.
I immediately regretted having the idea in the first place.
I can do it, I insisted, knowing that Uncle Jay snooping was a bad idea, even worse than putting me up for my first con job.
No need. This dinner is enough, sweetie, he said. Just be careful, Vi, he added, almost like an afterthought. Your husband is still part of the yakuza. You don’t want to mess with that.
I wanted to scream, Then why are we still here? Why did we agree to this job in the first place? Instead, I hung up the phone and berated myself for my silly ideas.
And now, it’s time.
Hands grip my arms, and I jump out of my skin. Kenzo’s reflection laughs in the mirror.
“I didn’t take you to be the nervous type,” he says.
Nervous isn’t the right word. Guilty and scared capture it, though.
“Uncle Jay can be abrasive,” I say. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ears. “He’s not exactly?—”
I don’t know what to say, because I don’t want to lie to Kenzo. I want to tell him the truth about how we’re getting paid to uncover the Endo-kai’s business secrets. I want to tell him I’m not sure I want to con him anymore. Maybe I can convince Uncle Jay to leak our client, and then the Endo-kai can get revenge on whoever tried to undermine them in the first place.
But that’s not a real possibility. I don’t know how Kenzo or Uncle Jay will take it.
I stare at the buttons of Kenzo’s shirt, formulating a partial truth. “My uncle can get aggressive sometimes.”
Kenzo lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Aggressive, how?” he asks, his jaw tight.
I blush. “Not like that.”
The grin returns to his lips, and for a second, my fears disappear. “Nothing I can’t handle, Mrs. Watanabe.”
But can I handle it?
I lower my chin again, sinking into the doubt.
“All right,” Kenzo says. “Time for a backup plan.”
My shoulders are rigid. “Wha?—”
He grabs me, shoving me against the closest wall, then he moves my hands so they’re in my underwear.
“Any time you start to feel nervous, I want you to do this,” he says, his low voice vibrating in my ears. “Go to the bathroom and fuck yourself until you’re on the brink of orgasm. Then, hold yourself right at the edge until you can’t think of anything else. Until nothing matters…except my permission to come.” He presses his warm hand against mine, butterflies fluttering inside of me. “I’m the only one who’s going to make you come tonight. And if you break that rule, trust me, you won’t enjoy the punishment I have in store for you.”
My stomach twists. Punishment? Why does that make such a delicious ache grow inside of me? And permission? He wants me to ask—no, beg— for permission.
Moisture clings to my mouth, wet and needy. My fingertips long for Kenzo’s skin. He removes a small device from his pocket. The size of a thumbprint and as thick as a button, with a small clip.
“Put this on your underwear near your clit,” he instructs.
I can guess what it is, but I want him to confirm it. “What is it?”
“Do as I say, and I’ll show you.”
I shift in place as I remove the clasp on the back and pin it to my underwear. He presses a button in his pocket, and the device buzzes to life, making me jump. It tickles, and it’s surprisingly quiet.
Kenzo chuckles, and his eyes lock on me. “If you don’t touch yourself like I say, then I’ll use this right in front of everyone.”
I smack his arm. “You are twisted.”
He grabs my wrists and slams me back against the wall, shoving his tongue down my throat.
He breaks apart for air and beams down at me. “Good. You’re learning.”
The drive over to the sushi restaurant has my stomach tumbling like a cocktail shaker. Kenzo sees my face and tilts his head at my lap. I put my hands in my underwear, my clit swelling with blood.
“You’re giving everyone a show lately, aren’t you?” he asks.
His eyes stay focused on the road, but his cock tents his pants. My cheeks redden. This is going to be a long family dinner.
The Cosmopolitan looms like a ladder leading up to the heavens, and as soon as we’re inside, my guts churn. We take the elevator to the fourth floor and walk a short distance to Meiyo, a Japanese restaurant, one that has a protection racket with the Endo-kai.
The hostess takes us to a closed room in the back of the restaurant. Water ripples over the greenish-gray stones lining the back wall. Wooden beams hang down from wires, and little bulbs in round glass containers light the space. The room is large, but empty of people. It must be reserved for us. In any other situation, I’d take it as a welcome perk, but with Kenzo’s family, it seems like a way to keep the mafia out of the restaurant’s regular business.
Uncle Jay isn’t here yet, but a line of yakuza enter the room, and it’s a chaotic string of bows, hugs, and shouts. Kenzo greets every person, and I follow behind him.
“Vi!” Tomo says, shaking my hand and pulling me into a hug. “Thanks for making my son put together something nice for once.”
“Hey!” Kenzo cuts in. “Don’t let him fool you. The boss will jump at any excuse to have a party.”
“You’re one to talk!”
They break out into laughter. A woman with dyed blonde hair and brown eyes squeezes Tomo’s arm. Though we met briefly, I remember her from the wedding—Gracie, Tomo’s wife and Kenzo’s adoptive mother. Cherry stands behind the two of them.
“You are as beautiful as ever,” Gracie says to me. “And Tomo’s right. We love an excuse to get together like this.”
“Get us out of the fucking business for once,” Niko chimes in. “Unless this is actually about business?”
Niko is sitting at the far end of the table with an expression on the verge of repulsion. His black eyes, dotted with those uneven blue patches, are menacing and unpredictable. He makes me uneasy, and I’m not sure why. He’s muscular, but he’s not tatted like the rest of the yakuza, and that almost makes him seem more foreboding. He’s going against tradition. What else is he willing to go against?
My eyes travel to the man next to Niko—the round, shaved head with traditional tattoos on his neck and chest. Kenzo nods, acknowledging my gaze.
“You met Dice, yeah?” he asks.
I nod. “Nice to see you again, Dice,” I say. Dice never looks up from his drink.
Ronin bows to Kenzo, and Kenzo shakes his hand.
“Welcome to the family dinners,” Kenzo says.
“Thank you,” Ronin says. Kenzo’s posture stiffens slightly, and I wonder if he invited Ronin, or if Tomo did it for him.
Ronin turns to me. “Vi.”
“Hi,” I say. Then I wave like an idiot. Mentally I smack my forehead. Who waves at their relatives at a family dinner?
We take our seats, and a server bows and hands us menus. She glides behind us as she pours green tea. The earthy aroma fills the room. I scan the table, then eye the door.
Where is Uncle Jay? I cross my fingers he won’t show. This whole dinner was my idea, but now that we’re here, I’ve got this gut instinct Uncle Jay is going to spoil everything. He may be too angry to be a rational con man right now.
“The hostess will tell my uncle where we are?” I ask Kenzo.
He whispers, “Do I need to turn on that remote?”
I flush, but the door flies open, and Uncle Jay walks in. A wrinkled suit, way too big for him, hangs from his shoulders. Knowing him, he probably bought it at a thrift shop minutes ago, just to show silent disdain for the Endo-kai. He waves his hand—the one with the kanji scars—and my cheeks flame. I know he used that hand on purpose. But Kenzo stands and shakes his hand, not noticing the awkward wave, and then the rest of the family does the same, even Gracie and Cherry. There’s a formality to it all, but so far, no one has shot anyone. Uncle Jay hasn’t threatened anyone, and even if Kenzo doesn’t like Uncle Jay, he’s still acting respectful toward him. I’m relieved.
Uncle Jay gives me a side hug before finding his seat. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Fine,” I blurt. “And you?”
“Better now,” he says.
My throat dries at those words, but he opens up his menu like it’s nothing. He asks Tomo about the different food items, and eventually, the two of them start joking with each other, and it’s like the yakuza’s mark was never forcefully cut into his skin, like he never lost a son to the yakuza.
As soon as the server leaves after taking our order, Uncle Jay clears his throat.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a gun,” he says. “Almost got robbed last night. Figured it’s now or never.”
“What the hell, Uncle Jay?” I ask. A surge of adrenaline rushes through me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ah. Didn’t want to worry you, sweetie,” he says. He winks to the side so only I can see. He’s making things up. Is he using it as a way to start a conversation about guns? Does he know about the Golden Honor Firearms deal?
“Any of you know something about gun ownership?” Uncle Jay asks. Then he smacks his forehead and laughs. “What am I talking about? That’s right. Yakuza. Mafia. Of course you know about guns! How do you get a gun out here? What are the laws and processes in Nevada?”
Uncle Jay has a gun, one he keeps in storage because we’ve never had a need for it before. Our jobs have always been easy, and when they weren’t, Patrick and Uncle Jay handled it with their fists.
The back of my neck prickles. Uncle Jay is doing this now? Right in the open?
Kenzo rubs the back of my neck. “You don’t have a gun?” he asks.
“Nah,” Uncle Jay lies. “But I always needed one. Especially with this young lady under my care.”
I gulp green tea, but it burns, and I choke, spitting it out on the plate in front of me. Everyone looks at me, and I cover my mouth with the cloth napkin.
“I’m all right,” I mumble.
Uncle Jay leans forward. “The Endo-kai must get deals on that kind of stuff, right?” he asks, quickly resuming the conversation.
The server sets the house salads down. I hastily take a bite. I don’t want to chime in, but I can’t tell Uncle Jay to shut up without being suspicious as hell. Why is he being so obvious about it? Does he not care anymore? What happened to being careful?
“What did you hear?” Tomo asks.
“There are rumors. Gun smuggling. Some to China. The Philippines. Japan too,” Uncle Jay says. “That’s how the Japanese get their guns, right?”
“Sure.”
“Heard you’re working out a deal with a firearms manufacturer,” Uncle Jay says.
I sink into my seat, and Kenzo gives me a quick glance. He probably thinks I told Uncle Jay about Golden Honor Firearms, but I didn’t. I close my eyes.
I haven’t said a word about Golden Honor Firearms to anyone. I like keeping the secret close to my chest like a weapon.
But it never mattered. Uncle Jay has already exposed it.
Niko pushes back his short hair. “What did you hear exactly?”
The fact Niko is now involved in the conversation makes my heart race. What is Uncle Jay getting into?
“Not much actually,” Uncle Jay laughs. “Is it Smith & Wesson? Winchester? Colt Defense? Oh! What about”—he pauses, pinching his brow—“Golden Honor Firearms?”
Tomo tilts his head. I bite my tongue, stabbing my fork at the salad bowl, but there’s only ginger dressing left.
“That’s none of our business,” I say to Uncle Jay. “They’re the yakuza,” I mumble, hoping he catches my subtext: Stop being so reckless!
“So the rumors are true?” Uncle Jay asks me. His eyes widen as he realizes I’ve been holding back on him. Anger crackles over his face, then quickly dissolves into a forced smile. My cheeks flush, guilt rippling through me. “It’s just a friendly conversation, Vi. You know that,” he says in a low warning tone. He turns to Tomo again. “How much are you buying in for?”
The vibrator in my underwear comes to life, and I flinch. Kenzo smirks. The vibrations stop, and I push back my seat, unable to take another word, knowing Kenzo is going to make it very distracting if I stay any longer.
“Excuse me,” I whisper.
I disappear out of the room and down a hallway. I can’t have an orgasm in the middle of a conversation about gun smuggling. And as I open the bathroom door, I cross my fingers, hoping Uncle Jay doesn’t dig our graves with his snooping.