Page 23 of The Queen's Denial

“I have used all of my collector’s items in my videos, and I have shops I can literally call at a moment’s notice to bring racks of clothing to any shoot I choose. I don’t need to use what I have here. So why don’t you stop trying to be my daddy, because you’re not very good at it.”

I tighten my naked body closer up against hers and bite her ear. “I’ll try to do better if you call me daddy again.”

She pushes my face away from her own and gets up on wobbly legs to get dressed. “I’m serious, Andy. I’m going.” She turns to me as she puts her bra back on. “Tonight at eight. You in or out?”

I grit my teeth together. There’s no way she’s going to that fucking club. I’m going to have to bring out the big guns. “I didn’t want to threaten this. But I’ll have the doctor call your father and tell him it’s not a good idea if I have to.”

The doctor is one of mine, and although he would never do this for anyone else, I know he’ll follow my directions. And if a doctor tells Akio Yan that his daughter shouldn’t be going out for the good of her physical health, there’s no way she’ll be allowed to go.

Her mouth drops open. “Why are you doing this, you asshole?” She’s very, very angry at me now. I actually think I feel bad. As stupid as I think her social media gallivanting is, I know it’s important to her. I’m not trying to take her away from the things she enjoys, but I’m not about to let her put herself into dangerous situations, either.

I decide to do something that I don’t usually do with my charges: I decide to be honest with her. “Listen, Chi… it’s not just your concussion, okay? There’s a war going on right now.”

“I’ve told you: I’m not going to live being scared of the many dangers that I face as a billionaire’s daughter.”

I shake my head at her naivety. She knows a surprising amount about this business, but she doesn’t know what it’s like to be in a war. Her father seems to have carefully stayed out of the limelight so far, but there is always a reason to kidnap young, beautiful mafia princesses that are the heir to their father’s fortune and the apple of his eye.

“I’m just trying to protect you, Chi. I’m telling you that a club is a dangerous place to be. I bet if I had an audience with your father, I could even convince him of that right now, and then you really wouldn’t be able to go.”

She narrows her eyes on me. “You’re jealous,” she spits out.

Her words pinch something — a clenching pain directly under my ribs — but I don’t let her get to me. “No way, babe. Just telling you the way it is. I’m responsible for you, and I say it’s dangerous. This is my area of expertise, okay? Cas’s legitimate businesses consist mainly of security operations, and I help him run all of them. Would you just stop being so fucking hard-headed and listen to reason?”

She stops all of her movement and looks at me with a scowl that I’m certain could kill a human being if she did it for too long. I somehow maintain eye contact, and a moment later, she huffs, sticks up her chin, and turns away from me to finish dressing.

Then she leaves me alone in the library to ponder the fact that I’m definitely not getting anything else tonight.

Chapter 11

Chi

I’m definitely going out tonight.

There hasn’t been a question of it since I began discussing it with Andy. Nothing he says makes any sense, and I’m not going to listen to his bullshit reasoning anymore. He doesn’t own me, as much as he seems to wish he did, and he also doesn’t understand how I live.

He’s going to have to get used to not having a say in the things I do. I’m not his. I can’t be his, even if I wanted to be. And in just a few short months, that will become even clearer to the both of us. Might as well jump start the process.

I decide to wait a bit longer after dinner to leave, so that when eight o’clock comes and goes, Andy will think I’ve listened to his instructions and stayed in. I go downstairs and have a quick dinner in my regular clothing, and then go back into my bedroom and rotely put on the dress I’ve chosen for myself.

The dress is dark red and tight; I haven’t actually worn this since I was a teenager, complete with the hyperactive metabolism and all. But it suits me tonight. I want to be sexy and dark, like the blood-sucking fiend I am. I want the very vision of me to ruin someone for life — to make someone want to do anything to obtain me. But no one ever will, of course. Not even the man lucky enough (or unlucky enough, really) to find himself married to me.

I head out at 9 p.m., without looking back. Once I get to the guard house at the edge of my property, I speak with the authority of a mafia queen who is heir to her father’s throne. “I’m going out,” I tell the head guard in Japanese and they follow me without question in their Escalades.

I feel just the spark of an uneasy twinge in my gut as I head away from the mansion, the wind caressing the hair from my face gently as I get closer to the club. I have nothing to worry about, of course. I know that. Even Andy knows that. But there’s something about doing this right now — going against what he’s explicitly told me to do and knowing he won’t be happy about it when he finds out —- that significantly reduces the excitement of going out.

I really don’t usually give a shit about what people think of my habits or if they agree with my choices, but I’m not looking to upset Andy or do something he doesn’t like. Still, he really can’t tell me what to do. I may never even see him again once I get married off in Japan.

Something clenches tight in my stomach as that thought goes through my brain. I take a deep, centering breath and look at myself in the mirror again. I look fucking good. I’ve worked my way from scrawny teen to toned, filled out 20-something. I get my full eight hours every night. And we are all young and beautiful for such a short time in our lives. I’m just doing what everyone else wants to do at my age.

In the end, I’m just doing what I have to do to get by in this life. I’ve had this itch I’ve been dying to scratch since my father told me we needed to get my life moving in the right direction. The direction that has been laid out for me since before I was born. I knew what he meant then, and Daiki confirmed it yesterday; I’ve been running out of time for a while now. My fun is just about over, so I’m going to fill the days I have left with as much of it as possible. I’m going to do what I do best, and I won’t allow Andy to overreact and ruin my last few months of freedom.

I don’t even look at the doorman as I walk up to the entrance. I don’t look at anyone. The fact that Chichi Yan is here is far better for the club’s image than the club is for mine. It’s funny, honestly; even though I have so much more money than anyone else who walks through these doors tonight, I won’t be paying for anything unless I decide to get a bottle of Johnnie Blue or something. I don’t even have to ask; they will know my favorite drink, and they won’t let a moment go by without shoving a glass into my hand.

And as I start my night, that is exactly what happens. I feel myself drinking more than usual, but I’ve gone toe to toe with the best of them, so for a tiny Asian girl, I have a surprisingly high tolerance. I find a couple of Barbies and their various Ken dolls that I haven’t seen since my pool party a few weeks ago, and I pretend that I find their dumb jokes funny.

After a while, their jokes are actually pretty funny. The Ken Dolls don’t look so bad anymore, either. The bar is starting to get a little crazy. There’s yelling and streamers and gold confetti. Someone bends my head back and feeds me a cherry. At one point, one of the many Barbies, Sasha, has a heart to heart with me about how Ena, the newest pregnant chick in their squad, doesn’t deserve to have a baby and won’t be a good mother. I think she gets offended when I say that none of us bitches will be a good mother, and she ends up drifting away just a moment later.

Eventually, we get invited to dance behind the bar. We spill club soda and alcohol everywhere trying to make drinks. “I fucking love cherries!” I scream, before someone squirts grenadine into my mouth with liquor I can’t even decipher at this point. We are wasting a stupid amount of top shelf alcohol and eating all the garnishes, and who gives a shit?

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