He reaches into his jacket and I think he’ll retrieve a gun and shoot me for thinking I could threaten him, but he produces a small black leather notebook and slips it into my bag.
“What’s…that?”
“Abe’s little black book.”
“What?”
“Your father has a system of scamming his most important clients. Once every few years, he’ll sell them a forgery among many genuine paintings. They’re used to the best quality from him, so they never suspect it. Even when the paintings are found out to be fake, they blame their own people, not Abe. It’s a fine line so he can’t scam the same person twice or the same group of people within a close timeframe. When he was younger, he used to do this proficiently and even kept us, his closest circle, out of it so he could reap all the profits. I only found out about this practice when he started to keep a record due to his faulty memory a few years ago. That little black book contains the names of the paintings, the people he’s scammed, and the years it happened. He’s been agitated since he lost it and stopped the whole scamming business altogether. That’s why he’s desperate about the alliance with Akira. It’s for protection more than anything because even though he stopped, he’s still in grave danger if that ledger comes to light. We’re talking about other powerful crime organization leaders and influential figures who wouldn’t hesitate to torture and kill him.”
My mouth falls open, then closes. “And you’re giving it to me?”
“You asked for something to use against your father. That’s his biggest weakness.”
“But you could’ve used it to push him out of power and then become the leader.”
“I’m not interested in being on the front line, Ojou-sama. Real leadership is done from the background.”
Why am I not surprised that he’d rather be the one to pull the strings without showing his face? Kai is a strategist, after all, and even though my father is the head of the Yakuza, Kai might’ve been the power behind it all along.
“Don’t speak a word about having the ledger,” he continues. “Let me do the talking with Abe. I’ll tell him Akira somehow got hold of it and gave it to you. That way, Abe will always be wary of both of you and wouldn’t dare to threaten you again.”
“Thank you, Kai.”
“You’ll only be holding it for me. When I want it back, you’ll give it.”
“And when will that be?”
He lifts a shoulder. “When I’m sick of using Abe as a front.”
“You’ll kill him?”
“Why? You don’t want that?”
“I don’t care as long as Sebastian, Mio, and I are out of this.”
“You and Sebastian are debatable. Mio isn’t. She wants the marriage and no one will stop her.”
“Not even you?”
“Not even me.” He stares at his watch. “But shouldn’t you be worrying about Sebastian?”
My upset stomach tightens at the mention of him and the thought of what he must be going through.
The unknown awaits us, but this time, I won’t let it rip us apart.
43
Sebastian
My eyes slowly creak open.
Pain assaults the back of my skull and black dots form in my vision even as I slowly get used to my surroundings.
Where the f*ck is this place?
The last thing I remember is writing that text to Naomi, the last one as Akira, then I headed to the parking garage because my headache was getting strong and I needed to sleep it off before meeting her later. But when I got there some sort of a bag was thrown over my head.
After that…nothing.
There was absolutely nothing.
I blink a few times and inhale deeply, only to be assaulted by the stench of piss. Grunting, I place my palms on the ground and sit up.
My head pulses with pain and my tongue feels too big for my mouth. A bitter taste floods my throat with each swallow.
The gray walls circle around me and the world spins. Or maybe I’m the one who’s spinning.
I shake my head, closing and opening my eyes a few times so I can focus better.
The blur covering my vision slowly disappears and the place I’m being kept in comes into focus. My memory kicks in with a vengeance.
I couldn’t forget this hellhole even if I lived a thousand years.
This is where Naomi and I were kept and emotionally tortured. This is where they broke her so she’d play into their hands without any second thoughts.
The metal door that she walked through stares back at me with the same sturdiness as before, as if it’s mocking me.
As if telling me it’s happening again.
Or maybe it’s already happened.
I search my surroundings, but there’s no trace of my Naomi.
Did they take her, too? Is she being kept in a separate place?
Using the wall for balance, I stagger to my feet and walk to the door.
I bang on it the hardest I can. “Open up! Open the f*ck up!”
There’s no sound or movement from outside, but I kick and punch it with both hands until I bust my knuckles.
I don’t stop to think about the pain.
Or the grogginess.
I don’t stop to consider anything but my Naomi. There’s no way in f*ck I’ll stand by as they torture or threaten her.
