Chapter 4
Kai
I stared at the ceiling, my eyes tracing the faint lines in the plaster as my thoughts circled the same words Dannie had said earlier.
I shouldn’t have said yes.
I hated crime. I hated what criminals did, the damage they left behind. And yet life had a cruel habit of pulling me back into their orbit.
Matteo and Marie—the New York Mafia couple I’d met when Lincoln was kidnapped.
They had helped me without hesitation, never asking for anything in return.
Then there was Dannie. He had been woven into my life long before I even remembered him.
My childhood had been brighter with him in it.
And even when I was taken—partly because of who he was—I now believed I’d been released unharmed because of him, too.
He had even saved me from my own mother.
My thoughts drifted to Chen Gong. He’d woken from his coma.
I should have felt only relief—Jenny and I hadn’t killed him.
For months, I’d been certain I would go to prison.
At first, he’d wanted to sue us for everything his expensive lawyer could dream up: assault, injury, damages, attempted murder.
But then Dannie’s people found the Australian girl he had abused.
With her under Dannie’s protection, safe and untouchable, Chen Gong had dropped the charges.
Now Jenny lived peacefully under my roof with all her children.
There really was no choice. I had to say yes.
To Dannie. To June.
I rolled onto my side. The couch dug into my hip.
Once, I could sleep anywhere, but this body had been through too much.
Even with a personal trainer five times a week, I couldn’t get back to who I used to be.
Sometimes you could do everything right—eat clean, train hard—and still feel like your body belonged to someone else.
“Can’t sleep?” Lucy’s voice was soft.
She stood nearby in silk two-piece pajamas, the pants a little too long, brushing the floor. She’d lost weight; the waistband hung looser around her hips. She’d talked about altering them, then waved it off.
I’ll buy new ones when I have time.
“Not really,” I admitted.
There were no secrets between us anymore.
“I don’t blame you. Today was… a lot.” She moved gracefully, stopping in front of me with a baby bottle in her hand. “You want the bed? I can take the couch.”
“No!” The word shot out of me. A bed sounded heavenly, but I couldn’t take that from her. “Huan Huan would wake up confused if you weren’t there.”
Her face softened instantly at the mention of our daughter.
“For the record,” she said over her shoulder, “I don’t have a problem with you working with June. And Dannie.”
“You heard?”
She nodded. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was already awake and… curious.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said. “Whatever I do affects you, too. You’re my wife, after all.”
“Only for show,” she reminded me gently. “But I support you, whatever you choose. We owe Dannie a lot. We should help if we can.”
“Aren’t you scared of the consequences?” I asked. “Triad life isn’t for the faint-hearted. The things they do… I don’t want to drag you and Huan Huan into that world.”
She gave a short, almost breathless laugh. “Your mother wasn’t triad, and look what she did to you. The worst kind of cruelty can come from anywhere.” Her expression turned serious. “I still remember what I did to you. Injecting those horse tranquilizers into your arm.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said quietly.
She shook her head. “I had to. It was the only way I knew to save you.”
I knew Lucy had never really had a choice.
My mother had leverage—something her father wanted badly.
And Lucy’s decision to stay in the closet had made it even easier to control her.
Doing what my mother demanded had been her way of surviving.
Being married to me meant she never had to come out publicly.
She could live her version of a quiet, protected life—with me as the husband on paper, and Jenny, her real soulmate, at home.
Some days, I regretted marrying her—because it meant she never had to be fully honest about who she was, about her sexuality. Not publicly, anyway. Then again, how she chose to live her life was none of their business.
“But are you sure you’ll be okay working with June?” Lucy asked gently.
“What do you mean?” I asked, though I knew why she was asking.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not jealous of you two working together. Not like that.” She kept shaking Huan Huan’s bottle absently, even though the formula had already dissolved.
I stared at her, my mind foggy with exhaustion. “What’s wrong with working with June?” I asked, studying her carefully.
“You were in love with her. Remember?”
My chest tightened.
“That was a long time ago,” I said, though I knew my deliberate attempt to sound nonchalant had failed.
“Maybe. But that doesn’t automatically mean the feelings disappeared.”
“I’ve seen other women since,” I argued, as if that proved anything. “Countless women, if I’m being honest.”
Faces that blurred together. The tabloids had loved it. Some people excused it—boys will be boys. Others were disgusted. But in circles like mine, men with money were expected to have women. If I didn’t, people would whisper that I was gay or too poor to keep company.
“Yet not one of them ever really held your attention,” Lucy said quietly, her words precise and unflinching.
I had no answer for that.
“So?” I said at last, more defensive than I meant to be.
“Things are different now,” she said.
“Can you not speak in riddles?” I rubbed my face. I was too tired to untangle half-spoken meanings.
She sat on the coffee table and set the bottle down, rubbing her thumb absently over the cap. She avoided my eyes for a moment before finally looking at me.
“You need to think about a few things.” Her voice was gentle, but there was no hesitation in her words.
“Can you resist June? If you can, great. But if you can’t…
” She paused, watching my face carefully.
“You’d be crossing a line. Especially if you and Dannie really are brothers.
That’s more than breaking some bro-code. That’s family.”
“I don’t think anything will happen between us,” I said, and walking toward her. I stopped in front of her and took her hands in mine, giving them a gentle squeeze. “That was a long time ago. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, surprising me.
Her brows drew together as she glanced toward the door, as if Dannie might somehow be standing on the other side.
“Honestly, I think you two belong together. I just don’t understand Dannie.
” She looked back at me, her expression troubled.
“How can he trust June with you? What is he thinking?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“If he didn’t want you and June close, why put you in this position?”
“I don’t think he’s planning for me to fall into his wife’s arms,” I said dryly.
She let out a soft laugh. “Of course not. But he might be trying to make sure someone he trusts is near her. After he’s gone.”
“Don’t,” I muttered. “He told me to stay away from her.”
“I was just saying—you never really know what goes through the mind of a dying man.” Lucy glanced toward the bedroom, then reached for the bottle as she pushed herself to her feet, already turning toward the door. “I should go back. Huan Huan’s going to wake soon and scream for that milk.”
Right on cue, a small whimper drifted from the bedroom, rising into a cry. Lucy hurried back inside, closing the door gently behind her, leaving me alone with the weight of everything she’d said.
I barely slept. Every time I drifted off, my mind snapped awake again—until my phone buzzed.
6:00 a.m. sharp.
I knew the exact time because my gym alarm had gone off a minute earlier, the same one I kept on every weekday. A pointless reminder now. There was no training today.
A car picked me up from the hotel entrance at eight. The driver dropped me in front of an office building—glass, steel, polished enough to reflect a life that looked clean on the surface.
June was waiting in the lobby.
She wore black, head to toe. It should have looked severe, but on her it was devastating. The color sharpened her features, made her skin glow. She was even more beautiful now.
“Morning,” I said. “Where are we?”
“Dannie’s office.”
A man approached and handed her a paper cup, then another to me.
“Americano.”
“Thanks.” I took it, wondering whether that choice had been his—or hers.
“Let’s go,” June said.
I followed her, watching the way she moved—controlled, distant, every step precise. I hated that I still noticed things like that. The sway of her hair. The quiet tension in her shoulders. Even her silence pulled at me.
When the lift doors opened, a man in his thirties was waiting for us. Gray suit. Slicked-back hair. The polished look of someone who lived in spreadsheets and forecasts. He led us to a meeting room and offered us more refreshments.
I tried to focus on the space—the glass walls, the muted city beyond—but it was hard to breathe with her beside me. Her mood seeped into me. If she was tense, I felt restless. If she was angry, something in me burned.
I had no right to feel any of it. Yet I did.
She didn’t want to be here. I could tell.
Neither did I.
One thing we had in common—we both failed at saying no to Dannie.
“Is he coming?” I asked, trying to break the pressure building in the room.
“I don’t know. Ask Squirrel. He seems to know more about his schedule than I do.”
Her oversized sunglasses hid her eyes, but not the irritation in her voice.
“The boss said he’ll join later. After the funeral,” the suited man added.
“That means no,” she muttered, like she was translating a lie into truth.
Another man stepped forward with a polite smile.
“Hi. I’m Francis Leong, the Acting Managing Director. Thank you so much for coming.”
“This is Squirrel,” June said, pointing to the other man in the room.