Chapter Three #4
I enter the room, and they immediately stop to incline their heads my way. Masa’s big body looks even bigger on the flimsy plastic chair. He’s almost as muscular as Soma. But nobody is as massive as River.
“Making friends, aren’t we?” I taunt Masa.
He stands up and bows once again. “That’s why Kumicho chose me to work for you, Mr. Boss. My remarkable social skills.”
He doesn’t look upset about yesterday’s accidentally incorrect directions.
“You’ll be lying in a casket rather than your mattress at this rate,” Yuna states, as I walk to the throne.
“She’ll cut your dick if you get any closer,” I hear Karin tell him with a cheerful tone and a smile before kissing her girlfriend on the cheek.
“That would be a gift for all humanity,” Yuna grumbles, yanking her blade off the table.
“What can I say? I’m a giving person. Please, take these.” Masa flips both his middle fingers. “They are all yours.”
“Really?” Karin beams at him, taking the knife from Yuna’s hand. “Lay them both on the table, our kitty needs a new chew toy.”
Karin’s cute ways are the creepiest. I still remember the day I met her and Yuna in high school.
They were fighting against some boys after one of them hit Karin with a ball while playing soccer.
I sat on the bench and enjoyed the show.
You don’t see two girls kicking four idiotic boys’ asses very often.
They were fearless and very angry, kicking and scratching and punching.
When they were done, River got some energy drinks from a vending machine, and we started talking.
They knew who I was and weren’t afraid, nor looking for anything from me. That sealed the deal.
My hands wrap around the throne’s armrests, digging my nails into the little holes I’ve made throughout the wood while pondering poisonous, brutal, virulent schemes. The chair was shipped directly from LA, where now, the fortress of doom there is missing a throne.
I still can’t believe my aunt. I’m too young to be married. I’m fucking twenty-three for fuck’s sake. What is she thinking? What is she plotting?
“Boss is pissed,” Soma whispers too loud for me not to hear.
“How do you know?” Masa asks, as I keep looking at the sweeping view of the city.
“He’s in the throne of doom, duh!” Yuna replies. I can imagine Masa’s confused face, but I don’t fucking care enough to look or explain further.
“Who is the boss mentally ripping in half today?” Soma asks.
“Who do we need to fuck up?” Karin, too, addresses River because they know nobody is allowed to talk to me when I’m sitting on the throne.
After a few seconds of silence, Masa says, “Mr. Boss got a bone with you, River?”
“Did you find the rat?” I ask, stopping the conversation. My eyes fall on the little ant-sized people walking on the streets between the skyscrapers.
“No, we ran out of…gutters,” Soma growls. “I put a man outside his mother’s, wife’s, and girlfriend’s houses.”
“The rat?” Masa asks.
I wave at River standing near the glass wall, and he starts explaining, “Two days ago, we found out that someone working in project management had taken home a file which wasn’t supposed to leave this building.”
Masa leans with his elbow on the table. “What file?”
I sigh with evil satisfaction. River hates to give explanations. He finds talking more than necessary quite pointless, not to say lame.
“Nothing related to the family. They were company documents, ideas for the construction of a large strip mall in Chelsea. The master plans with architectural drawings, blueprints, designs, and schematics. We are still in the run for the project, and if that file gets out, this company can say bye-bye to months of work, plus it would be impossible to prepare new ones. We would lose the contract.”
“The rat stole them with the intention to sell,” I add, knowing this is the only explanation for taking them.
“Or he was forced to do it,” Karin offers another option. She always sees the good in people—until she doesn’t.
Soma nods. “Either way, he’s in the wind for now.”
“Naruhodo.” Masa hums. “And you think someone is after the company.”
“Or trying to interfere with Akira-san’s growing empire,” Yuna tells us her thoughts, which reflect mine. Someone is trying to make me look bad, even ruin me.
“Was the kumicho informed?”
“No. And she won’t be until I find out what’s going on,” I hiss out, adding a venomous tone to my voice.
After a moment of silence, I hear, “I can help with finding the rat.” I turn my head toward them as I hear Masa’s words.
“How?”
“I have my ways. Kumicho chose me to be part of your crew because I know this town and the people living here. I was raised in Queens. Give me three days, Mr. Boss.”
He was born in Hokkaido, the northern island in Japan, but he grew up in New York; I’ve seen his background file.
I narrow my eyes at him. What he calls me could sound sarcastic, but I don’t hear any ill-intention behind it. “Is this your way to try to get into my good graces?”
“I’d think it would take much more than that. You don’t look like the easy type, Mr. Boss.”
Oh, but I could be for the right person. My eyes fall on River. I could be so easy.
I snort at Masa’s cockiness. I don’t trust him, I don’t think I ever will, but I need to give him more leash to keep Kumicho at bay. Moreover, pretending to accept him could turn to my favor.
“You were supposed to go with Trevor to shake down the greedy fucker from the environmental agency.” I pause for a moment. “Alright. Show me your skills, Masa. Three days from now, I want that bastard under my sword.
“Will do.” He bows and moves to the door.
“Soma go with him.” He nods back, understanding my keep-an-eye-on-Masa look.
Masa gives me a “Yes, Mr. Boss,” and they both leave.
“Yuna and Karin, you need to find the three ski-masked fuckers who vandalized my warehouse. Go talk to Trevor.”
I hear them stepping out after they give me a “Hai, Akira-san.”
My eyes go back to the city view. Too many things happening at once. As usual, my life is a fucking circus, and I’m mister juggler trying to keep all the balls in the air.
I need to focus on building my legacy and showing to the family I’m the right fit for the next kumicho.
And if I have to marry I… Even only thinking of doing it makes my stomach twist. I don’t like to be forced into making changes, especially about my life.
If my aunt thinks I’ll just bow and follow her orders, she is more delusional than I thought.
I need to find a way around it. In the meantime, I’ll pretend to go along with the fucking dates, while really continuing to move forward with River.
“What’s going on in your bunny maze brain?”
“Bunny maze?” He sounds amused. Fucking ha-ha.
“Did you know about the marriage deal already?” Is that why he didn’t act surprised by my aunt’s order?
“Are you implying that Kumicho told me, the gaijin, something you don’t know?” His sarcasm doesn’t go unheard.
“Gaijin doesn’t mean leper, but foreigner.”
“You mean outsider.”
I snort. “The fuck you are. You should be proud of the nickname. You are the only one my aunt gave one to.”
He frowns, eyes looking distant the way he does when he’s thinking intensely about something. Shit, I like the way I know him so well.
“Are you still afraid she’ll kick you out if you take a wrong step?” His fear of losing everything is ingrained inside of him because of his past.
“You’d never let that happen.” His reply and the warmth behind his words soothes my disappointment over his earlier silence.
“Aww, do you want to cuddle?” I step down from the throne and open my arms in wait.
“You’re like a hedgehog asking for free hugs,” he growls, not moving from his position. He looks a little tense.
I pout as my arms drop to my sides. I really wanted to feel all those muscles against my body.
Maybe there’s another way to achieve that. I smirk deviously—on the inside. “Let’s hit the dojo. It’s been weeks since we last did. Some kendo might help with that horrible balance of yours.”
“I can’t hold a shinai with my injury,” he reminds me, rolling his shoulder and wincing.
Ohhh, even better. “Then judo.”
“We are different weights.”
“Because of your wound, it will be like we are equal. I can flip you down.” I cross my arms. Maybe not flipping, but tripping I certainly can, and even make him kneel. I have a knack for getting under his skin.
“You’d look like a chihuahua flipping a wild beast.” One of his rare, small smiles lifts the corners of his lips, showing those pearly whites.
Damn! He’s so hot. I feel the sudden need to fan myself over here. How the hell have my body and brain had such a mindset transformation toward him, a perception reassessment, a viewpoint…reversal? From one kiss, an avalanche of change started.
“Stop talking back to the boss, servant, and let’s go.”
“Not your servant.”
I grab his hand and lace our fingers. He doesn’t pull away and even lets me drag him toward the door. I don’t think I’ve ever done this, hold his hand. But it feels familiar, the warmth of his palm, the roughness of his skin, the firm grip around my fingers.
The Prey Master’s words about easing the prey and making him feel comfortable suddenly come to mind.
Operation Snare the Bunny, plan commenced. What could go wrong?