Chapter 16
Sixteen
H er father’s house is teeming with all of New Orleans’ high society for our rehearsal dinner. Not that there was much of a rehearsal, since my bride is currently refusing to speak to me. She was slightly withdrawn as we left Harumi after dinner, but now she has completely iced me out.
All because of one fucking nosy-ass reporter.
I’ve no doubt that Saori set it up. The angle of the photo told me it was taken from just beyond the door of the patio. I was unsure of how he got back there. He couldn’t have come through the restaurant. If he had, my men would have stopped him.
Colson Wells is well known to my men and banned from nearly every one of my establishments. Which means he had to have snuck in. Wataru found a weakness in the chain-link fence just beyond the garden room where I always hold dinners at the restaurant.
“Looks like bolt cutters,” he told me. “Someone set you up.”
And that someone is no doubt Saori. What I can’t figure out is why. We ended our relationship a few years before I was set to marry Evaline. Whatever her reasoning, the photo Colson shoved at my wife as we exited the restaurant served its purpose. And now she is back to hating me.
It doesn’t help that I refused to answer any of her questions regarding the situation or Saori. It isn’t any of her business, and even though she’s iced me out now, it won’t last forever. I could have told her that Saori kissed me. That I denied her advance, but I didn’t because it will ensure that my wife understands that our marriage is nothing but an arrangement.
There will be no love here.
Evaline bites her lower lip as we make our way through the front door. I take her hand in mine, giving it a firm squeeze when she tries to pull away. We need to look like a united front here, and she needs to play the part of the loving fiancée.
“Evaline.” A woman in her mid-forties greets my wife, kissing her on each cheek like we are in fucking France.
“Mabel.” My wife smiles at the older woman, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m good, darling,” she says, taking a sip of her martini as she eyes me. “I was thrilled to hear you were back from your trip overseas. How ghastly it must have been for you to be in a place without running water or basic hygiene.”
Confusion passes over my wife’s face before she remembers that she was supposed to have been helping the less fortunate in a third-world country.
“It wasn’t so bad.” She keeps her answer vague. “I’m just glad to be back.”
“Of course you are.” The woman laughs, the fake happiness grinding on my ears. “Well, I need to go find that fat husband of mine. I’ll be sure to bring him your way when I do. Your father was talking about a new gaming license he needs.”
That piques my interest.
“Oh,” my wife says, confused. “Forgive me. I must have forgotten. What is it for?”
Mabel waves her hand dismissively. “That new riverboat casino he’s been bidding on. It sounds like he’s about to win the jackpot and get his hands on it, and he wants to make sure it’s smooth sailing once he does. Forgive the pun.”
This is news to my wife, and it is also news to me. The riverboat casino has been something I’ve been looking to acquire for quite some time. The owner has been refusing to sell. But even if he suddenly decided to, where is Gerard getting the funding for something that large? The minimum market value price is nearly twenty million dollars, and last time I checked, he didn’t have that kind of cash to burn.
“That’s right.” My wife snaps her fingers. “I completely forgot. Thank you, and yes, please send your husband over. I’ll be glad to talk business with him.”
And there’s the other thing nagging at me. Why is this woman sending the game commissioner to speak with my wife and not her father, who is the one interested in the license?
Mabel gives a finger wave goodbye as she disappears into the crowd of people.
“Looks like we need to have a little talk, wife,” I hiss under my breath.
Evaline tilts her head toward me. “And what would we talk about, husband ?” she snarls right back. “A divorce possibly? I might read through that contract your father had me sign and see if there is an infidelity clause in it. Although, if he was anything like you, I doubt there would be.”
I stop and turn her to face me, both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you dare talk about my father like that,” I growl, my voice low enough that no one around us will hear. “My father loved my mother and was devoted to her.”
Evaline scoffs. “So the apple fell far from the tree, then.” She shrugs her shoulder. “Then maybe I can get out of this marriage.”
I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and pull her toward me. To any onlooker, it might seem as if we are having a private moment between the two of us and not a battle of wills.
“The only way you are getting out of this marriage, firecracker,” I threaten her, “is in a coffin.”
Her face pales, eyes rounding in fear. There. Now she gets it.
“Now,” I kiss her forehead tenderly, “paste a smile back on your face, and we will discuss your connections later.”
Luckily looks can’t kill, because the glare she sends me before we part could flay the flesh from my bones where I stand.
Letting her go, I take her hand in mine and lead her through the throng of guests toward the dining room. I’ve been in this house more times than I can count throughout the years. Mostly with my father. After his death, I grew busier and had little time for visiting my future bride. In hindsight, I wonder if she would have run had I taken the time to let her get to know me.
“Ah, there is the man of the hour.” Her father greets me as if his daughter isn’t standing right beside me. “I’m so glad we get to do this,” he says, his tone shifting as he eyes Evaline darkly, “again.”
My wife’s throat bobs as she averts her eyes to stare at her shoes. I’ve never truly paid attention to their interactions in the past. I wonder where the fire she showed at dinner not that long ago went. There is something in the way she bows her head almost submissively that has red alerts screaming in my mind.
“I’m always up for a good celebration,” I tell him, “and making new connections.”
The man slaps me on the back and barks a laugh. “Of course,” he bellows. “Of course. What else was this marriage for?”
That is the one-million-dollar question.
“Come,” he says, motioning for me to follow. “Let me introduce you to some people. They will be very helpful in your future endeavors.”
Holding tight to my wife’s hand, I let him lead me through the fray, introducing me to one guest after another, most of whom are completely useless and all of whom seem to be more interested in my wife than her father. He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that, or he doesn’t seem to care. The ease with which she works the crowd astonishes me. It’s as if she was the one in charge and not the other way around. These people respect her and value her opinion.
There is more to my sweet, innocent wife than meets the eye. That is for sure.
“ Okaasan , mother.” I greet my mother as she comes to stand by us. I lean down and plant a kiss on her cheek. “How was your day?”
My mother smiles up at me. “Eventful,” she tells me and then lowers her voice so that no one else can hear. “Several of the casinos have been visited by the gaming board commission.”
My brow furrows. “That’s not unusual,” I remind her.
Okaasan shakes her head. “It is when they hit all five in the same day,” she says. “Not only that, but we’ve also had several of the brothels subject to inspection by the health board.”
Now that is unusual.
“ Kuso ,” I curse beneath my breath. “It’s that new DA. Alvarez. The Sinaloa Cartel has him in their back pockets.”
“I can see them going after the brothels,” my mother whispers. “But why the casinos?”
Shaking my head, I can’t give her an answer. I don’t have one. It doesn’t make any sense.
“If the casinos are brought up on charges of violating the state’s gambling laws, the gambling commission could shut you down and force you to sell,” my wife states quietly. I didn’t realize she was listening in. “Technically, Louisiana law states that if a casino is found to be in gross negligence of the law, the gambling commission can seize the property for themselves and sell it at a reduced rate without giving you any of the property.”
There she goes surprising me again. How the hell does she know this? The woman wants to be a baker, and here she is, spouting gaming law.
“Which means that whoever is backing the Sinaloa Cartel could seize up the properties for next to nothing, and the cartel has a larger hold on the city and somewhere to funnel their dirty money through,” my mother states.
“What I want to know is who is backing the Sinaloas?” I wonder aloud. “It has to be someone powerful, otherwise they wouldn’t have gained such a large foothold.”
“Kenzo Nakamura.” Someone shouts my name across the room. Speak of the devil.
Santiago Alvarez, the new district attorney for New Orleans, strides through the crowd, a smile on his face and a drink in his hand, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Santiago.” I force a smile on my face as I shake his hand. “How are you?”
“Good. Good.” His gaze falls to my wife, who takes a slight step into my side. “Eve.”
My wife’s throat bobs anxiously. “Mr. Alvarez.” She greets him, but it isn’t a warm one. How do they know one another?
“It’s good to see you again. What has it been? Five years since the academy?”
So that’s how they know one another. Through school.
“Something like that,” she replies coolly, but the way her hand is squeezing mine tells a different story than the smooth facade she is showing now.
“We’ll have to do lunch sometime.” He smiles down at her like a predator smiling at its prey. “Catch up.”
“That won’t be happening,” I assure him.
Santiago chuckles. “Too afraid to let your wife have lunch with another man, Kenzo?” he taunts jokingly.
“Not at all,” I tell him. “I just don’t want my wife sitting down with the man who would allow the Sinaloa Cartel to run rampant through the streets of New Orleans. You can barely keep the city safe, Santiago. Why would I let my wife anywhere near you?”
In a split second, his carefully constructed facade of civility crumbles to reveal the raw darkness hidden beneath. It’s as if a veil has been lifted, briefly exposing the true nature that he works so hard to conceal before it is swiftly covered once more.
“I don’t know what you are implying.” The congenial smile is back in place. “My office works day and night to see that all criminal workings in the city are brought to justice.”
“Keep selling the party line, Santiago,” I sneer. “It won’t get you any further than your predecessor.”
The man takes another swig of his drink. “Well—” he takes in a deep breath. “I really hope that wasn’t a threat, sir. Because you don’t want to know what happens to those who threaten me.”
“I don’t threaten,” I assure him. “I promise, and I can promise that if you ever come near my wife or contact her, there will be hell to pay.”
Without a second glance, I turn away from the corrupt DA, my wife at my side, and make my way into the formal dining room. I can feel his eyes on me the entire way.