Page 42 of Dangerous Deceit

“It’s not like law-abiding citizens are the only ones who value hard work,” he says. “Our yakuza works hard too.”

He’s right. Uncle Jay, Patrick, and I work hard in our own ways, even if we are criminals too.

“So where’d you get the record collection, then?” I ask.

“It was a present.”

He sits down on the mattress and spreads his arms, shifting his weight on the bed like nothing in this world can disturb him, and that peace unsettles me. Normally, you can see a person’s weaknesses when they’re in their own homes—they’re too comfortable to hide them—but Kenzo acts like he has the world at his feet. Like I’m simply another vinyl record he’ll play.

“Tomo gave it to me when I officially joined the yakuza,” he explains. “Asakazukigift.”

His tone carries weight.Sakazukigoto,the sake ceremony he mentioned at the reception. The record collection isn’t solely about music, then. It’s a visible demonstration of his bond with Tomo. A man who has taken care of Kenzo like his own blood.

“For joining the Endo-kai?” I ask. “The Endo-kai is your family then.”

“It’s the only thing worth fighting for.”

A warm heat builds in my stomach, flaming tendrils licking my heart. What “family” means to me has changed over the years, but I respect Kenzo for holding up the Endo-kai like that.

“Niko was here,” I say.

Kenzo’s brows lift in amusement. “Did he give you a hard time?”

I press my lips together, formulating a quick answer. “He made a sandwich or something.”

“That fucker is always after my food.”

I laugh, maybe a little too hard. I should tell Kenzo that Niko was the one who unlocked the office door, but I keep it inside. If I tell him, he’ll know I checked to see if it was locked earlier. On the one hand, it may be natural for a just-married wife to explore her new home. On the other hand, it seems too risky to admit I was looking around the place, like that truth will somehow prove I wasn’t actually decorating.

“By the way,” I say quietly. “My cousin wants to work for you.”

I shouldn’t be doing this. Too many people working on a job means there are more opportunities to mess up. But if Patrick works on the drugs, we’ll have some extra cash, and soon, we’ll be somewhere tropical and warm. And then I can even start my own family. A job like this won’t matter.

“You want him to smuggle guns?” he asks, amusement in his voice.

I grimace. Patrick can handle that, but gun smuggling is not something I want on my conscience.

“I was thinking more like your other product,” I say sheepishly.

“Shabu-8.”

I play with the hem of my shirt. “Yeah.”

His eyes study me. My cheeks warm.

“For a virgin, you sure know a lot about the Endo-kai,” he says.

“Being a virgin and being naïve aren’t the same things,” I say. “Besides, I’m not a virgin anymore.” And I haven’t been since I was sixteen, but he doesn’t know that.

A grin is plastered on his face. He likes when I quip back at him.

“You end up trying the Shabu-8?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Drugs aren’t my thing.”

“Nah. You just like the thrill of stealing then.” He winks. Even though I’m in a loose top and leggings, his eyes drink me in, my nipples pebbling. “You think he can sell for me?”

I tilt my head to the side. “He’s a bonehead, but he’s good for it.”

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