Chapter 34 Mafia Gossip #2
"And now she's pregnant with twins and. . ." My voice dropped. "She's going to do whatever it takes to make sure that paternity test says Kenji is the father."
Hiro's eyes glinted. "Exactly."
"Because if it's Kenji, she wins."
"She becomes untouchable."
A chill rolled through me. "What's Reo doing to prevent her from. . .I don't know. . .tampering with the test?"
"Everything." Hiro's tone sharpened. "Guards around the medical staff 24/7. Guards around the doctors. A whole team protecting the DNA samples. Reo is treating this like a military operation."
"Good." I exhaled slowly. "But. . .why wait? Why not just take the test now while she's still pregnant?"
Hiro shook his head. "Our tradition wouldn't allow it. We don't risk harming the babies. The test happens after they're born."
"So we just. . .wait."
"We wait."
The weight of it pressed down on me—months of uncertainty, months of Kiko walking around this island thinking she held all the cards.
Behind me, fabric rustled again. I could feel the twins' attention sharpening, their focus locked on this conversation like predators scenting blood.
I looked at Hiro, really looked at him. "What if the babies end up being yours? What will you do?"
His expression didn't change, but something dark flickered behind his eyes. "If they're mine, she will not love them. She may even hurt them. I have seen this path before with others who have tried to trap the Dragon. Women killing newborns that didn’t pass the test."
My breath caught.
"If they are mine," Hiro continued. "I may kill her, but regardless. . .I will give those twins what I never truly had. . .I will love them."
Aki spoke, “And the Claws will love them like they’re our sons.”
Yuki nodded.
Still, I watched Hiro with shock. He wasn't joking. There was no hint of exaggeration, no dramatic flair. Just cold, absolute certainty. "You would. . .kill her?"
"If she harms my children? Without hesitation."
The twins didn't make a sound, but I felt their stillness shift.
I swallowed hard. "What if. . .what if they're your father's kids?"
Hiro's expression softened just slightly. "Then, after we kill the Fox, Kenji and I will raise our brothers with love."
Behind me, one of the twins exhaled, long and slow. The other made a soft sound of approval.
The simplicity of it—the absolute conviction—hit me harder than anything else he'd said.
These men didn't just play power games.
They lived them.
Breathed them.
“Welcome to the Family, Tora.” Hiro turned toward the door, lifted his hand, and with his fingers he made a small precise gesture in the air—two fingers flicking out, then down.
What is he doing?
Both twins took out their guns and headed to the door.
The hair on my arms stood up, and I backed away.
Fast, they opened the door and moved in like a pair of blades—silent, coordinated, cutting through the air.
One scanned the ceiling and corners as they approached, the other checking the floor, the seams along the threshold.
I watched them in awe.
Then the door shut behind them.
I turned to Hiro.
He kept his voice low. “I just want the twins to make sure the suite is safe. No surprises for my brother’s Tiger.”
“I like the sound of that.” I stared at his hands. "Wait. You said all of that with just a flick of your fingers?"
He nodded.
"Is that a thing the Fangs and Claws do?"
"The Claws started it." He lowered his hand. "We developed it when we were kids."
"Kids?"
"There was a time the twins couldn't speak." His expression softened slightly, something almost nostalgic crossing his features. "So we all had our own way of talking to them. Hand signals made sense. Quick. Silent. Effective."
My chest tightened. "They couldn't speak?"
"Just didn’t speak. . .for a while." He didn't elaborate, but I could read between the lines—whatever trauma had left those scars on their chins had also stolen their voices.
Hiro continued, "Eventually, when kids around the neighborhood would bully our group because we were so small, we'd use hand signals to kick their asses."
My eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
He made a circular motion with his hand, fingers moving in a smooth, practiced arc. "That means circle them and pick something up—glass bottle, sticks, whatever. Hit them in the head while I hit them in the balls."
I blinked.
He shifted his hand into another gesture—two fingers pointing forward, flipped his hand, and then curled the fingers back. "After we hit them good, we run."
Then he pointed straight up at the ceiling. "We'll run north."
"You're serious?"
"Very." His mouth curved slightly. "We had a signal for every direction, every weapon, every move. By the time most of us were ten, we could fight like a unit without saying a word."
I tried to imagine it—a group of small boys, two of them mute, developing their own silent language just to survive the streets. Fighting bullies. Running from danger. Protecting each other with nothing but hand signals and scrappy determination.
"And you all have been fighting and communicating with your hands since you were kids?"
He nodded. "Then later, when we joined Kenji's organization, we taught the Fangs. Now we all move as a unit to protect my brother."
The weight of that settled over me. These men hadn't just built an organization.
They'd built a family.
A dysfunctional, violent, deeply loyal family that spoke in hand signals, blood oaths, and silent loyalty born in childhood alleys.
My throat tightened. "Hiro. . .I'm sorry about what I said to the twins earlier. I meant no disrespect."
He shook his head. "I knew you were good with reading people, but not that good. It serves them right for testing you."
"That's not fair, Hiro. I should apologize. I just don't know how—"
"They don't need an apology." His voice was firm but gentle. "They just need your love. Continue to be yourself."
My heart warmed, even as guilt still twisted in my chest. "I feel bad."
He winked. "Good. Then make sure you make the twins an extra special signature cocktail. That will clear everything up."
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me. "That's your solution?"
"It's a very good solution."
Before I could respond, the lock clicked.
The door opened, and both twins stepped back into the hallway—shoulders still tense, eyes sharp, movements deliberate. They still had their guns out.
They stopped in front of Hiro.
In perfect synchronization, they raised their right hands to chest height, fingers spread wide, then closed their fists and tapped twice against their hearts.
Maybe that means. . .clear or all safe.
Hiro's expression didn't change, but his hands moved immediately—three quick gestures in succession.
First, he pointed at both twins, then swept his hand down the hallway in both directions.
Second, he made a fist and tapped his own chest once.
Third, he touched two fingers to his temple, then pointed at the door.
The twins nodded once—sharp, efficient—and immediately split apart.
Yuki moved left, positioning himself near the corner where the hallway turned, his body angled to cover both approaches.
Aki moved right, mirroring his brother's stance, eyes scanning the corridor with predatory focus.
Wow. This comes from decades of operating as a single unit.
Hiro reached behind his back and pulled out his gun—sleek, black, deadly. He checked it with the kind of casual efficiency that said he'd done this a thousand times before.
Then he looked at me, and one corner of his mouth lifted. "Let's begin, Velma."
My pulse kicked up, adrenaline flooding my system.
This was it.
The hunt was on.