Chapter 11
RIKU
By the time I pull up to the estate, our men have already handled the hard part. The fucking thief is on his knees in the middle of the warehouse, arms behind his back, wrists bound, his face already split in places. Good.
I straighten my cuffs, exhaling slowly. The room falls silent. The guys are alert. Waiting. Watching.
The piece of shit lifts his head—one swollen eye, split lip, desperation thick in the air. Fucking pathetic.
I take my time approaching, rolling my sleeves up my elbows, staring down at him like he’s already dead. Because he is. And he knows it.
One of my men steps forward. “He was trying to sell it in Chinatown. We caught him before he got too far.”
I nod, reaching into my pocket. “Where is it?”
The man holding him down produces a small black velvet pouch, placing it in my outstretched hand. I open it, let the jade pendant slide into my palm. I roll it between my fingers.
Then, without warning, I strike. A sharp backhand to the motherfucker’s face, sending him to the concrete floor. He lets out a wet cough, blood spraying from his mouth.
I kneel, grabbing his face, forcing him to look at me. “You stole from us.”
His breath shudders. “It wasn’t—I didn’t know—”
I tighten my grip, digging my fingers into his jaw. “You knew exactly who this belongs to.” I hold up the jade pendant.
His eyes dart around the room, searching for mercy. But there is none.
I let go of his face, stand, and nod to the man behind him. The sound of a blade sliding from its sheath fills the air. The piece of trash starts begging. No one listens.
I walk away as the end is carried out, my grip tightening around the pendant, my mind already on my girl. I check my watch and exhale slowly. I’ve got somewhere to be.
By the time I walk out of the warehouse, the man behind me is screaming.
* * *
MARYAM
How did my life spiral into this? I stare at my reflection, barely registering the dress I put on. Because no matter what I wear, it won’t change the fact that I am bringing Riku Watanabe to my family’s house. For dinner. Like he’s a normal boyfriend and not a possessive, brooding, borderline unhinged man who decided I was his, then never looked back.
I let out a sharp breath, smoothing my hands down my hips. I need to calm down. It’s fine. It’s just dinner. Just introducing the most dangerous man I’ve ever met to my extremely nosy family. Oh God. I’m in trouble.
Before I can spiral further, my phone buzzes.
Riku: I’m outside.
I close my eyes, whispering a quick prayer for patience, strength, and for my family to not immediately also fall under his spell.
Then I grab my purse and head out.
* * *
Our car ride is almost relaxing. My body warms up and loosens in his presence. Just being near Riku, basking in his scent, his intensity. I feel… at home. And turned on, of course. If I thought not seeing him for a couple of hours, and being irritated by his caveman ways would dampen my attraction, I was very wrong.
The second we step inside, I brace myself. For chaos. Interrogation. Suspicion. Instead, my mother takes one look at Riku and beams. Oh no.
Before I can even introduce him, she’s already fussing, reaching up to smooth his jacket like he’s one of her own.
“Well, aren’t you handsome,” she says approvingly.
Riku bows his head slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Williams.”
I squint. He sounds so damn polite. Like he’s not the same man who held me against his car and told me I wasn’t leaving.
“This one’s a charmer,” my mom says, giving me a huge smile before turning back to him. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable.”
I grit my teeth. This is gonna be a long-ass dinner.
* * *
RIKU
Maryam’s mother immediately adopts me, her siblings barely blink at my presence, and their kids? They’re all over me.
I’m barely in the living room for five minutes before a tiny girl with pigtails is climbing into my lap, shoving a toy into my hand.
“Fix it, please,” she requests, her adorable face set with resolve.
I lift a brow, inspecting the broken doll in my hand. I glance at Maryam. She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. Enjoying this. I smirk back. Fine.
I shift the toy, study it, then pop the dislocated arm back into place with a small click.
The little princess gasps. “You did it!”
A tiny pair of arms wrap around my neck before she scrambles off my lap. “Uncle Riku fixed it!” she yells, running off to show her repaired toy.
Maryam chokes. “Uncle?” She groans. “This is a nightmare.”
I laugh. This is going even better than I planned.
* * *
MARYAM
Riku is ruining my life. It’s been twenty minutes, and he’s already one of us.
Mom sits him at the head of the table. Dad asks him about his favorite NBA team, and Riku answers like they’ve been watching games together for years.
My nieces and nephews are obsessed with the man. And he looks completely at ease. Like he belongs here. In my childhood home.
I glare at my glass. Traitors. All of them.
Mom notices my sour mood. She smiles as she refills my glass. “He’s a good one, baby.”
I take a sip. “He’s something, all right.”