Page 59 of The Queen's Denial

One day, she gets a visit from one of the men she didn’t choose. She tells the guards at the gate to turn him away, but I hear her father mention that the man is very high up in a sect of the Yakuza in southern Japan. Apparently, that means she has to make nice.

She allows him in, and he makes his case, but I’m proud of her when she sweetly and assertively tells him she has had to make a difficult choice, and she was happy they spent some time together. He’s angry as he leaves, but mumbling so much I can’t make out the words. Oxy informs me that he calls Chi a baka onna, and that she’s choosing the idiot just to try and contain her family’s power.

I know that phrase without Oxy’s immediate translation software: stupid girl. It makes me want to get out of the car and stomp his brains into the sidewalk, but I don’t. I do wonder how he knows which guy she’s chosen. The only reason I know is because Oxy has been keeping tabs on her conversations after the first guy turned out to be such a piece of shit. We are, of course, making sure there is no more violence or disrespect.

I was telling Chi the truth the night she came to stay at my safehouse: I really don’t sense a huge threat right now. I don’t mean that there are zero threats, just that they are small.

I’m still curious about her brother, though. I need to know more about this 32-year-old man who, even after his father almost died a few weeks ago, hasn’t stepped up to the plate for his family at all. He still lives off of his father’s wealth. My feeling is that Akio is suppressing him in some way, but why?

Unfortunately, there is truly nothing in any media about him, including the Japanese papers. The last tidbit of information about him is the well-placed, fake-as-hell newspaper article about their sweet little family, with the cloyingly close picture of them all standing like statues with their botox smiles, dusting each other’s shoulders with their fingertips, but clearly worlds apart for anyone looking a bit deeper. They are just a small group of people who don’t really seem to know each other at all when you really look closely.

The only issue with my reconnaissance on Chi’s brother is that I know so little about him, and I hate not knowing about someone. The lack of information on a billionaire’s son is jarring, and I don’t know why I can’t get any sort of read on him. I don’t even have a picture of him except for this one taken six years ago. He could have gained 100 pounds and started balding. He’d look completely different.

I have to admit to myself that Chi’s wellbeing has become too much of a preoccupation for me. I would never normally spend this much time on one thing, and it is probably taking my attention away from other areas of the job. But I want to know that the mansion and its occupants are safe.

Of course, I could tell my men stationed at the guardhouse to keep an eye out, but in my heart, I know that no one will watch the mansion the way I will. Cas would be the best alternative, but even he wouldn’t be as vigilant as I would. And I would never ask him to do such menial work while he and Mara are off dealing with all the family drama that popped up for her after the war.

I don’t want to be completely consumed with this, but I feel it taking over my life, even while Chi seemingly goes about her merry way on her own. I know she has to do it — that her life will move forward whether she wants it to or not, and that there is no use fighting it. But my life is utterly stagnant at the moment, and the contrast is a constant reminder to me that she’ll be gone in a matter of months, both figuratively and literally, and I’ll still be here, doing what I always do.

But my life dictates that I need to stay my course. Hers dictates change, and that’s the way it has to be. I’ve just found that change is always easier to plunge into when you’re leaving something. I’m left to sit in it and dwell. To stew in the feeling of being alone, without new challenges to sink my thoughts into. Despite the bitterness I feel over it, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll take it so that she doesn’t have to.

Chapter 31

Chi

The weeks pass in a haze of planning, tastings, and ugly dress shopping. And, of course, trying with all my might to ignore the sentry van that Andy sits in outside my house. Andy is pretty brazen about the fact that he doesn’t care if we know he’s there. He has even come to the front gate guards to speak with them. Of course, I try to ignore it and pretend I don’t care, but I feel safer with him there despite myself.

I still need to do all the things that a soon-to-be-married woman must do, though. “Can’t I just choose a traditional Japanese dress? I hate these big, poofy white things. I’m five feet tall, and they weigh nearly as much as I do. I’m drowning in all these beads.”

My personal assistant, a woman who has seen the best and worst parts of me from the sidelines for my entire life, bustles around me at the bridal shop, pushing her glasses up on her nose as she pulls out dress after dress from the rack. “They’re Akoya pearls, Chi, not beads. And remember, even you don’t have a warehouse of available dresses for short, tiny women that will fit you perfectly the first time you try them on. They’re going to all be big on you. I don’t make the rules, and my head is going to fucking explode if you keep complaining.”

I snicker at her frustration. “You poor thing, sipping your champagne and nibbling on your cheese as I try these monstrosities on.”

She scoffs but doesn’t look my way. “Yeah, champagne and cheese are great perks, unless you’re too busy catering to a spoiled little rich girl to consume them.”With great effort, she heaves five enormous dresses off the rack and holds them up, panting with exertion. “Which one’s next?”

I catch sight of one dress that doesn’t look so bad. The material seems stretchy and sleek, and it’s the first that doesn’t have bows and hoops and ruching that make me look like a toy poodle. “That one,” I sigh out in annoyance.

She checks the tag. “It’s only 4k,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Are we trying to make a ‘look how down to earth I am, wearing an affordable wedding gown,’ kind of statement or something?”

I roll my eyes. “Just because most billionaires would get a dress custom made with an extra zero or two doesn’t mean 4k is ‘affordable.’ Anyway, you’re the one who showed it to me. I don’t give a shit how much it costs; I just want to look decent and be able to see people over the balloon sleeves.”

I don’t bother walking down the long hall to the dressing room since we’re the only people here and my assistant has seen me naked a few hundred times in my life. Besides, I would live in underwear if it were socially acceptable.

“Okay, have I transformed into the Yakuza queen?”

Her smile falls off her face and her mouth drops open. She takes in a halting breath. “Oh, Chichi-girl. You look…”

I catch sight of myself in the mirror. The dress hugs my body and accentuates my small curves. The beading is tasteful and weaves its way across the bodice in a light floral pattern. The hem is tea length and amazingly, the back just barely brushes the floor behind me, trailing behind me elegantly.

I don’t look cute or pretty. I look literally breathtaking. I look like a woman in a beautiful dress, ready to take this next huge, unimaginable step. All I really need are some 4-inch heels and diamond drop earrings before stepping dispassionately into the abyss.

“Chi, I think that’s the one.” My assistant’s voice snaps me out of my own head and puts me squarely back under the bright florescent lights of this bridal dress boutique.

I let out all the breath I hadn’t even known I was holding and swallow hard, grabbing my clothes from the chair I laid them on a moment ago. “I think you’re right,” I say, as I nearly rip the dress trying to get out of it. “We’re done for the day.”

*****

“I have a question for you, Chica Chi.” I’m out to lunch with Mara and getting way too much joy out of watching her down a double cheeseburger as though her life depends on it.

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