Page 15 of Brutal Obsession

It’s such a small thing, but I’ve never been in control of something like the music in a restaurant before. Picking out which station everyone will listen to is an unexpected thrill. Today, I’m choosing the music. Maybe if I stay withthe Fukuokas long enough, I’ll also get a say in the next staff uniform design in the next month or two.

I don’thatethe current uniforms, but I don’t love them either. Flower-patterned button-downs over dark shorts for the men and same-length dark skirts for the women. The male members of our staff rock the look.

Like Benjamin Hinx—“Binx” to the initiated—the almost thirty-year-old, bespectacled, polite but pain in the ass man. The staff shirt manages to render his extreme lankiness as stylishly slender.

And the uniform is downright gorgeous on Jay Choi. He has 4K clear skin, perfect, luscious hair, and the cutest face I’ve ever seen on a man. Even wearing the Dishuniform, he could pass for a K-pop star in a music video.

The last member of our front-of-house team is Anna Carlos. She’s got these deep hazel eyes thatbegto be accessorized with other earth tones, but the blue shirt and accompanying black skirt don’t pop the way they could.

Luckily, since I’m the hostess, I get to dress a little differently.They could’ve forced me to wear the same uniform as Ernie, Zeke, Lulu, and Wyatt, who work in the kitchen and all wearCrocs.

Those shoes are heinous. I don’t care how comfortable they are.

“That’s two poke bowls, one katsu curry, and a kid’s cheeseburger.” I read over the to-go order I’ve just logged into the system. “The cheeseburger comes with an apple juice, fountain soda, or POG. Which would you like?”

“What’s POG?”

Unluckily, since I’m the hostess, I have to answer repetitive tourist questions until the end of time. But this question is my favorite. I didn’t know what POG was either until I started working here.

“Passionfruit orange guava juice.”

“We’ll take the POG.”

“Great. Should be about forty-five minutes. We’ll have everything waiting for you up front when you arrive?—”

A huge crash disrupts the atmosphere. I jump, and every pair of eyeballs in the room swivels to the chaosunfolding just over my shoulder.

When I spin around, I find Binx holding a plastic yellow caution sign. On the floor, a fallen Anna, surrounded by rainbow-colored puddles and a cascade of broken glass, holds her ankle and winces.

“Someone spilled some water. I was just going to get the sign when Anna slipped, and…” Binx trails off as Mike and Paul Fukuoka appear from the back to assess the damage.

Together, they extract Anna from the hazard zone and carry her to the back, her ankle swelling more and more by the second. Lulu and Wyatt appear with brooms and a mop, and I’m asked to cover Anna’s tables.

Despite the chaotic mess and Anna’s injury, I’m reminded of how much I’ve grown to love working here.

Where I come from, true teamwork doesn’t exist. Not for women, anyway. The mafia is all about power and control.

Around the time I started high school, my body began to change, and so did the looks people gave me. Especially men. I’m the kind of person who’s usually lost in my own imagination, so I didn’t notice how my appearance was maturing faster than my brain.

My father did.

And around the same time Riley expressed interest in working as an informant for him, he showed interest in sending me out on assignments too. In the beginning, I was excited.

As the outgoing twin, I was eager to prove myself when he came to me with my first job. I was ready to do everything I sawRiley doing, but Thomas Brennan didn’t want me to research or run errands.

He wanted me to distract someone. Some random enforcer in some random club.

I still remember his instructions.

Talk slow. Draw it out. Smile at him and touch his clothes. Show a little cleavage and leg.

I was seventeen and giddy about spending time in a real club even though I was underage. Catching looks from the men flattered me.I must be pretty,I used to think, if I stood out to them in a room full of gorgeous, mature women. I took their perversion as a compliment.

I was so proud of myself, feeling all grown up, talking to that enforcer like my father asked. Completely oblivious to the fact that, just a few steps away, behind a closed door the enforcer was supposed to be guarding, Irish King operatives were brutalizing his boss to death.

My father utilized his teenage daughters to help him kill a man. He used Riley to keep tabs on the target and find the best assassination window, and he used me to get through the target’s security detail.

That was the first time.

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