Page 11 of Dangerous Deceit

He laughs a deep,reallaugh, and I swear my stomach doesn’t know up from down anymore.

I blink up at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Vi,” he says. “Don’t worry. You’re with me.” He clinks our flutes together. “Kanpai.”

“Cheers,” I say.

I take a sip, and the sweet, bubbly taste fizzes against my inner cheeks. I’m rosy already, and with the alcohol, it’s only going to get worse.

But I take another big sip. It is liquid courage, after all.

“Screw it,” I say, then I down the rest.

Kenzo’s jaw drops slightly. “All right, then.”

The bubbles float to my head, and with his words and the champagne, it’s like I’m walking on clouds. Several people come up to us, and I bob my head, pretending like I know what they’re talking about. Kenzo introduces me, and I pretend to be his date. Not a hostage.

But after a while, we’re alone again, and Kenzo pulls me around to face him.

“How many exits do you see?” he asks.

I wrinkle my nose. Usually, I like double-checking for escape routes, but once I got into the car with Kenzo, I figured I was committed to the evening.

I lean forward. “What do you mean?”

He quickly motions around the room. “There are eight exits on the stage side. What about the entrance?”

I count. “Maybe another eight? More?”

“Keep an eye on them. That way, you’ll always be ready.” He squeezes my shoulder, and my neck tingles. It’s almost like he’s warning me I’ll have to run tonight. Maybe he expects an enemy to attack us. It probably happens in the mafia.

But more likely, he knows I want to escapehim.I don’t know any of these people, but I knowKenzois from the yakuza.

“Which exit will you take?” he asks.

His confidence is distracting—relaxed shoulders, a charming smile, his lips open and wet. It’s like he knows if I run, it’ll only be becausehe wants me to.

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice,” I say.

Did that come out of my mouth?

I smack a hand to my face, but he grins down at me, amused by my outburst.

“There’s always a choice, Vivian,” he says.

I die a little inside. No one calls me that anymore. Not since my parents died.

“Not when you tortured my uncle,” I whisper. But then I hit my hand against my forehead and slosh my second glass of champagne on the carpet. Apparently, Ididn’tneed the second glass. “Don’t worry. It’s fine,” I whisper. “I get it. He crossed a line, so he had to pay.”

“What do you want?” he asks.

My heart stops. I blink at him. It’s a simple question, but it’s complicated coming from him. His rich, brown eyes drink me in, and I’m entranced. He’s masculine and authoritative, but his eyes gleam, and it’s almost like he’s curious. Like he’s actually considering me as a wife. Images of glamorous fabric and masculine hands swirl in my mind, and for a split second, Iimagine Kenzo throwing me down on the floor. Right here. In a room full of people.

I shake my head. I’ve never trulylikedsex, but I’ve also never really been around anyone else besides Uncle Jay and Patrick. Whenever I had crushes, they always stomped those out before I could experience the reality of other men.

But with Kenzo, theywantme to be here, and I have no doubt he can kill me with a few simple strokes of his fists. Based on this first impression, I bet he’d even make me beg him for the opportunity.

Kenzo is the biggest red flag of them all, but I’m still here.

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