35. Kenzo
CHAPTER 35
KENZO
Legendary Analysis is a startup company that put a twenty-two-year-old in charge of over a half of a million dollars, and thus, the kid became a prime target for corporate blackmail. The CEO’s skin is so clear, you can clean silver with it. He offers a firm handshake.
“How can I help you, Mr. Watanabe?” he asks. He’s so formal, I almost laugh—this kid is way too innocent to be doing what Vi is claiming. I wasn’t supposed to start on Legendary Analysis until we had more information, but here I am. I instinctively know he’s not who we’re looking for.
So what the fuck am I doing here?
“I’m one of your investors,” I say. “I represent Samurai Corporation.”
“Oh, wow,” he says. A nervous grin is plastered across his face. “Thank you for believing in our mission. We truly think that with testing kits like this at home, we can?—”
I wave a hand in between us. “I’m here on personal business.” I slam a hand down on his shoulder. “Does the name Jay Petrus mean anything to you?”
He gives a clipped chuckle, and it irritates me.
“I’m sorry, who?” he says. “Is that one of our new hires? I’m not familiar with their names yet.”
“What about Patrick Petrus?” I swallow a lump in my throat. “Vivian Petrus?”
“Not ringing a bell.”
It’s the end of summer, over a hundred degrees in the Mojave Desert. The blue sky is a goddamn insulting tease. I can kill this CEO for irritating me. It’s technically in my future plans anyway; I can make Legendary Analysis our next corporate payout, or I can murder this asshole. Let him die for Vi’s lies.
But that’s just it. It’s a fucking lie. And killing him would only prove I believe the lies she’s feeding me.
“Who are they?” the CEO asks. “The Petruses.”
I clear my throat, running a hand over my jaw. My composure is slipping one drop at a time.
The Petruses are supposed to be my in-law family. Vi is supposed to be my wife. But she’s a liar. A traitor. And she’s been using me.
I’m still here though, indulging in her lies. I need to do something before I rip this kid’s head off.
“No one,” I say. I get up and offer my hand. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.” We part ways, but then I spin around. “Oh, one more thing—” I wait until he’s completely turned toward me. “Make it worth my while not to tell the rest of the investors about your high stakes poker games. I want your company to succeed, but I can’t do that if I’m not happy.”
He gawks at me, and I walk out of the building, smoothing my suit jacket. I’ve got to get this itch out of my body before I do something stupid, like fuck Vi again. I’m losing my fucking mind.
I call Dice. “Send me an address,” I say. “I feel like enforcing today.”
As soon as I hang up, my phone vibrates. I race between the cars, the itch building like hives. I need to kill and get this out of my system. Someone needs to die, and apparently, it’s not going to be the startup CEO. Or Vi.
So I end up outside of this middle-class rental in Henderson. A single-story with a bright green plastic lawn. I scan the doorway as I reread the information Dice sent: Single man. Owes money to our casino. Tried to pilfer his gun.
He’s armed, then.
I crack my neck, sliding my gloves over my hands and grabbing my own gun. This should be simple. An easy kill.
But god, I want him to feel everything. My frustration. My rage. My fucking desperation.
A man with silver cropped hair opens the door. He’s my height, but softer than me. He opens his mouth to greet me, but I punch him back into the house, kicking the door closed behind us. He grabs for his gun, and I shoot his hand. He wails.
“You yakuza sonofabitch!” he shouts.
I smack the back of the gun into his face and blood oozes from his bottom lip, his cheeks jiggling. He cracks his neck, renewed with vigor. He punches me, and I let him, only so that I can jab him deep in the stomach. He whimpers, and I take his gun, shoving it to his face. I want him dead right fucking now.
“You don’t fuck with the Endo-kai,” I warn.
I shoot him in the forehead, his body slumping down before me. The blood oozes on the hardwood, and I let the silence rock through me. I kick the corpse until he’s on his back, then I send a quick mass text to our cleanup crew, then another to Dice, thanking him for letting me take his job.
Be there soon, Dice texts.
My head aches. Why is he coming? Does he think I need a babysitter right now?
Dice arrives, his body taking up the whole hallway, and nods at me. I acknowledge him with a dip of my chin. Usually, I’d slap him on the back and brag about the whole experience. Even if he’s silent as a ghost, I can typically get a playful grunt out of him, but I don’t have the energy for that.
I rub my forehead. This corpse—whoever he was—was always going to die. Vi should be just like him.
But she’s still alive.
The cleanup crew arrives—the wakashu do as they’re told without question, even if it means cleaning up a bloody mess. You get good at cleaning blood out of carpets before you make it to enforcing.
Ronin, with an unlit cigarette between his lips, enters the house, taking his position beside Dice. I hold in a scowl. Dice and Ronin are inseparable lately. Ronin should be on his hands and knees, removing bloodstains like the rest of the wakashu, but instead, he’s watching over the new recruits. Knowing Tomo, he probably can’t stand to give his biological son the typical starter work.
I hate Ronin for being here.
Dice opens his mouth, but before he says a word, I curse under my breath. If he’s talking, that means it’s bad.
Shit. I’ve got it bad.
“She’s causing problems,” Dice says. He doesn’t need to include my wife’s name; we both know who we’re talking about. I don’t nod. I don’t smile. I don’t do anything. I stand there like an idiot. My wife is a lie wrapped up in a come-covered dress, and here I am, killing another man because I can’t kill her.
Why can’t I kill her?
“You want a tail on her?” Dice whispers so Ronin can’t hear. But it’s more than that. His quiet voice means he won’t tell Niko, Cherry, or even Tomo what’s going on. He knows I’m in too deep with the Petruses and struggling to crawl my way out. Internally, I’m relieved Dice respects me and my life that much, but my vision tunnels.
Tailing her. That would mean if she showed her betrayal in front of him, Dice would be the one to kill her. Not me.
Why did Vi have to go after our guns? What client is stupid enough to try to infiltrate a gun smuggling operation?
“No,” I say. I slap my hand on Dice’s back like everything is fine. Because it is fine. Vi is simply my legal wife. We may have a legal contract in place, but I can easily get rid of her. If I can fuck her in the desert, I can sure as hell let her corpse turn to leather under the sun.
Dice nods at me. Then Ronin joins us.
“And what will you do when you find out she’s been lying to you this entire time?” Ronin asks. The fucking eavesdropper. I clench my fists and laugh in his face. Oh, the irony. I don’t trust his ass any more than I trust Vi. None of us do.
“What will you do when we find out you’re a fucking rat?” I growl. “You cut off your finger to prove you’ve left the Ito-gumi, but it’s just frosting on top of the cake. Gives you real authenticity, doesn’t it?” My vision turns red. “No one buys that shit. You’re just another double-crosser.”
I bare my teeth and raise my fist, but Dice quickly steps in front of me, facing Ronin, and I punch the back of Dice’s shoulder instead. He’s backing me up, respecting my decision to watch over my wife, but he’s also keeping me in my place when it comes to the yakuza.
My chest fills with a heavy weight. Dice won’t let me hurt Ronin.
“You’re protecting this motherfucker?” I ask Dice. “Who is he to you?”
“He’s our brother,” Dice says. “And what he’s asking you is valid.”
My brain screeches to a halt. Dice is taking sides with the outsider? With Ronin? I scowl, but Dice faces me, and I can’t avoid him or Ronin any longer.
“Answer the question,” Dice says.
“What will you do with Vi?” Ronin repeats.
I grit my teeth, staring daggers at both of them. They expect me to say I’ll kill her, and I know that’s what I should do. If you’re stupid enough to betray a mafia organization, whether it’s the yakuza, the bratva, or the cartel, you don’t deserve to live.
But I can’t wrap my mind around killing her. She’s a devious little bitch, but all she wants is to make candles and adopt children. She wants a home. I can’t blame her for that.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say. It’s the only thing that sounds right. Besides, I’m not lying. I will take care of it, even if I don’t know what that means. Even if I know it won’t involve me killing her.
I straighten my dress shirt, then I correct myself: “I’ll take care of her.”
“Good,” Ronin says.
I curl my fists, ready to strike again, but Dice gestures for Ronin to follow him. My throat tightens. I’m about to start arguing with them again, when Ronin says, “Tomo called. You should follow us.”
I check my phone. A text from Tomo reads: Samurai Castle, 2 PM. I don’t have time for anything else, so I caravan with Dice and Ronin back to the Strip. At least it keeps them away from Vi.
For now.