Page 6 of Secrets & Sake

I wet my suddenly dry lips. “Suzuki was unable to pay, but he assured me he’d have the money by this weekend.”

Namikawa halts his counting, lips thinning. “You already let him off the hook once before. You were to collect the payment in full today. Did you punish him for his failure?”

“No,” I say through clenched teeth.

Namikawa rises, and as anger darkens his eyes, he seems taller. “Do you realize what this will mean for us if word gets out you let him get away without paying not once, but twice?” His weathered voice shakes with barely restrained fury. “People will stop paying their protection fees. They will believe we are soft, weak!”

I fight the urge to flinch at his ice-cold rage. “It’s worse,” I say, voice quieter than I meant it. When he uses that cold, disappointed tone, it’s like I’m still the eight-year-old brat indentured to him. “Saito Takada was in Asakusa. He killed Aida before I could collect from him. Then, he escaped.”

Drawing in a breath that makes his nostrils flare, Namikawa walks around his desk. His back is hunched, and his hands are clasped behind his back. My instincts tell me to avert my gaze and tilt back my throat in submission to my boss and alpha.

Before I can offer an apology for my failings, Namikawa strikes. Razor claws gouge open my cheek, tearing flesh down to muscle and bone. In seconds, my healing kicks in and the wound slowly closes, but the pain makes my eyes water, and I gnash my teeth so I don’t shout.

“Fool!” Namikawa bellows. The lights in the room flicker. The shadows get darker. “Your failure tonight has brought shame upon this clan. I took you in and raised you as my own, and you humiliate me in this way?”

“My deepest apologies.”

When I look up, Namikawa is back behind his desk. He opens a drawer and produces a dagger. He unsheathes it, and the blade gleams in the lamplight. My stomach churns, and the hairs on my body stand on end. Fuck. This is going to suck.

Namikawa locks eyes with me. I can’t look away, even if I want to. Deep within my soul, my wolf rolls over in submission, incapable of fighting back.

“Would you kindly pick up the knife?”

“Yes, boss.” I try to pull my hands back as they reach out against my will, unbuttoning my shirt. I can’t move my own fucking body. No matter how many times this happens, it’s never any less terrifying.

Stop. Stop it! I scream at myself, but my lips won’t move. I clasp the dagger. Someone. Anyone. Please. I press the dagger into my own skin. The blade is made of silver, and it burns like fire as I carve a bloody line across my chest. I thought I was stronger than this, but I guess not. A hoarse snarl of pain escapes me.

The wound won’t heal thanks to the silver, and blood weeps down my body.

Namikawa leans back in his chair and smiles. “Keep going. I will tell you when to stop.”

Gnashing my teeth, I cut. And cut. And cut. I can’t stop it. Nobody can hear my screams. I never look away from Namikawa’s dark eyes, and I hope he feels every ounce of resentment eating away at my insides.

Ever since Namikawa adopted me into the gang, I’ve lived in a world of endless night. The moon never waxes or wanes. The sun has ceased to shine. All I know is darkness, a darkness that festers within me.

I’ll never be free. I will live and die a caged wolf.

Chapter 3

My heart is in my throat as I stand outside The Blue Lotus in Asakusa.

This is it. After three weeks of planning, it’s finally time to begin my undercover investigation into the Namikawa-kai. I’m going to keep compiling evidence until I’ve got enough to put out a story that exposes Raiden Noboru in the abductions plaguing Tokyo.

For weeks now, I’ve been coming to the Lotus every night, getting acquainted with Ren Makoto, the bartender. She’s also a good friend of Raiden’s, and they’ve known each other since practically infancy. She’s nice, and we connected over stories of bad exes together. Ren told me that the photographer for the Namikawa-kai’s fan magazine had died. I let slip that I’m a photographer and that I’d love to photograph such a famous organization, really laid on the fanboy enthusiasm and won her over.

And now, here I am. Or, here’s Hiro Watanabe. My alias. Tonight’s the night I finally meet Raiden face to face, and I’m nervous. I can’t stop sweating. We’ll sit at the bar, have drinks, and he’ll look over my photos and decide if I’m good enough for the job. I can’t say I ever imagined using my photography skills to take pictures of yakuza for their fan magazines, but I guess there’s a time and place for everything.

I’ll get close to Raiden and find out everything he knows. But I have to be careful. If I’m caught… well, it's probably best I don’t think about that so I don’t throw up all over my nice suspenders.

Heart thumping, I push open the doors to the Lotus.

Here goes nothing.

Blue LED lights illuminate the ceiling, and the walls are backlit in pink. Sofas wrap around tables where guests eat and drink. A DJ plays music on a stage before a throng of writhing, dancing bodies. The music is so loud, it’s deafening. How are we supposed to do an interview here? Over at the bar, Ren Makoto bounces a shaker up and down with the confidence of a skilled dancer. She’s tall, and her sleeves are rolled up to expose her muscular, tattooed arms. Her sleek black hair is tied back in a ponytail that swings up onto her left shoulder when she looks my way and waves. “Hey, Hiro! You’re early!”

I am, but I’ve always preferred to be too early than too late. I sit at the bar. “Is Noboru here yet?”

Ren looks up toward a room on the second-floor balcony. “He’s in VIP, but he should be down in a few minutes. The usual?”

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