I stare at the three men present. “Concerning what?”

“Kai,” Sergei explains with a proud gleam. “His leader, Abe, is open to negotiations, and it’s all thanks to you.”

I smile. “It’s my duty.”

I knew Kai’s profit-oriented brain would be favorable for a lucrative partnership.

Vlad grunts under his breath, but he says nothing. He’s like a grumpy large bear who finds it a chore to speak.

“If there isn’t anything else, I’ll go to work,” I tell Sergei.

“No, no. Since you started this, you have to take it to the very end.”

I halt in my tracks and face him. My granduncle appears healthier lately, his face less darkened and his coughs seldom making appearances. It gives me hope that I don’t want to have, like the hope I had when Dedushka’s heart condition got worse. I thought he was stronger than the world, but he left me. Sergei will leave too.

Everyone does.

I shoo those thoughts away and ask, “What do you mean?”

“We have a meeting with Kai and Abe today.”

“And?”

Sergei exchanges a look with Igor, who speaks on his behalf. “Abe specifically asked for you, Kirill, and Damien.”

“He did?” I stare incredulously. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if Igor goes?”

“That’s what I said,” Kyle’s fake father agrees. “Damien, of all people, shouldn’t be anywhere near a strategic meeting.”

He can say that again.

“It can’t be helped.” Sergei stands. “Can I trust you, Rai?”

“Of course.”

“Keep that wild dog on a leash,” Igor tells me, appearing uneasy as if we’re heading straight to a disaster, which might as well be the case.

Kirill, Damien, and me in a meeting all on our own?

Yeah, this needs a word stronger than disaster.

16

Rai

The meeting is set in a traditional Asian restaurant with private rooms.

It’s one of the places where the Yakuza conduct their outside meetings. If I remember correctly, they own this one.

Our guards remain outside as we agreed on beforehand.

Damien, Kirill, and I arrive a bit early, so the three of us are sitting on the floor. Damien is beside me to the right, and Kirill chose to sit opposite me even though there’s room on my left.

The table is empty except for a ceramic teapot that rests in the middle. Every five minutes, a waitress comes to refill our teacups.

“Don’t you have some vodka in here?” Damien barks, and the slim woman flinches at the strength of his voice. She’d probably piss her pants if he showed any hint of his Russian accent. He’s really a bull.

“No need to yell at the lady.” Kirill smiles, speaking in a smooth, suave voice. “Can you please get us some vodka? Our friend here lacks class and is not a fan of tea.”

She mirrors his smile, falling right into his fake charm. “Right away, sir.”

As soon as the wooden door slides shut behind her, Kirill’s smile vanishes. “How long are they going to keep us waiting? Is this a tactic?”

I take a sip of my tea and relish the relief it creates at the bottom of my stomach. “The question should be why they chose the three of us.”

“Especially you,” Kirill says with condescension.

“Why should that be a surprise when I’m the one who brought Kai around?”

“Did you use some lady skills?” Kirill taunts. “Does that tool husband of yours know?”

“No, but if you really want him to know about something, I can tell him about your own set of skills.”

Kirill readjusts his glasses with his middle finger, glaring at me, but he drops the subject.

The waitress brings us a bottle of vodka and glasses, smiles at Kirill, then leaves. Damien uncaps the bottle, ignores the glasses, and drinks straight from it like the savage he is.

“Stop it.” I try to take the bottle from him, but he pushes me away.

“Drink your tea and leave me the fuck alone.”

“I can’t leave you the fuck alone when the brotherhood depends on this meeting.” I grab the bottle and yank it away, causing droplets to fall on his shirt. “You’re hard to handle sober, so there’s no way in hell you’re getting drunk on a day like this.”

He licks his mouth, wiping away the droplets of vodka that stuck to his upper lip. “Are you this bossy in bed, too? That lucky bastard, Kyle.”

“More like poor bastard,” Kirill mutters.

“Lucky or poor is none of your business.”

“Tell me, I’m curious.” Damien leans his elbow on the table. “What made you settle with Kyle, of all the men who surrounded you all your life? You had much better options. Hint: me.”

“He understands me better than anyone else,” I say without even thinking about it. That’s what always made Kyle special. He sometimes understands my needs before I do.

“How does one even begin to understand a witch?” Kirill asks.

“You would never know because when you start, you’re already under my spell.”

“Holy fuck, that must’ve hurt.” Damien barks out a laugh. “You okay there, Kirill? Want me to get you something for the burn?”

I smirk at Kirill and he flips me off. Damien uses my distraction to try to reach for the bottle of vodka. I swat his hand away, clasp the bottle, and place it in front of me under the table so he doesn’t have access to it.

Even though he’s sitting still, his eyes are shifty and agitated. I’m ready to bet it’s because of whatever seed Kirill planted in his head back at the house.

The door slides open again, and this time, it’s not the waitress. Kai walks in, followed by an old, short man who wears a pressed suit.

Abe Hitori. The leader of the Yakuza branch in New York.

Kirill and I stand in greeting, but Damien remains planted in place. Not only that, he also uses the chance of my standing up to grab the bottle of vodka.

I glare down at him, but he just sips from the bottle. “What? Surely they know how I am if they specifically asked for me. Right, old man?”

The motherfucker.

I curse inwardly, but I pause when Abe laughs, wrinkles forming around his eyes, then speaks in a subtle Japanese accent. “Always a black sheep, Damien.”