Page 23 of Dangerous Deceit

Her lips crunch together, and she takes it from me slowly.

“Thanks?” she says, almost like a question. She stares at the tampon like it’s a bomb.

“Heard you in there,” I say sheepishly.

“So you’re nosey, then.”

I wince, and I want to point outshewas the one who practically shouted about her menstrual state, but I don’t. I want her to like me. If she’s Kenzo’s sister, then Ineedher on my side.

“Can’t help it,” I babble nervously. “We’re sisters now, right?” And now I can’t stop; the embarrassing words keep tumbling out: “I’ve always wanted a sister. We girls have to stick together, right? Even if that means giving each other tampons or whatever. Girl stuff.”

She tilts her head. “This is the first time we’ve met, and you’re already calling me your sister?” she says cautiously.

“Do you have any sisters?” I ask. The information about the Endo-kai is extremely limited online, and everything I found about Kenzo has to do with Samurai Corporation, not his family.

Her upper lip curls, and she steps back. “Uh, no. Grew up with brothers.”

“Me too! Well, a male cousin, but?—”

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “You’re fucking weird.”

“Thanks!” I say out of habit. I’m acting way too nervous. What’s wrong with me?

She lifts the tampon and gives a clipped laugh. “Thanks for this.”

As soon as she’s gone, I smack my forehead in annoyance.Sisters? You called her your sister?I want to bury myself inside of a hole and never come out.Thisis why I’m on research and not conning. I do dumb stuff like this and make a complete ass of myself. I need Cherry to like me, not to think of me as some weird sister-in-law she tolerates.

The door opens again, and this time, the wedding planner chirps: “You’re walking in five minutes, Miss Vi!”

I gather myself, then head back over to the bride’s quarters. Uncle Jay offers me his elbow, and the two of us walk to the lobby. Patrick must be in the audience already.

In the windows facing the ballroom, rows of people patiently watch as the wedding party—bridesmaids and groomsmen I’ve never met before—walks down the aisle. Nausea swims in my gut, and I try to stay positive. This is nothing. It’s a job. A few more days, and we’ll be gone. This wedding won’t matter.

But I can’t swallow those thoughts. My eyes scan the rows of seats.

It’s a lot of people to lie to. A lot of people to trick.

“You’ve got this, sweetheart,” Uncle Jay says, shuffling some gray-brown hair off of his forehead. He’s not your typical father figure, but he’s always protected me and believed in me. You can’t ask for more from a parent.

Still, nausea rolls through me. “What if they kill us?” I whisper.

“No one’s going to die,” he says. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

But those symbols on his hand, crusted red and purple, a symbol of the yakuza, glare at me in warning. It’s healing, but it seems like proof someonewilldie.

“In two weeks, we won’t even remember this,” he adds. “We’ll be sitting on the beach, making mundane comments about the weather.”

He’s right. He has to be right. And if nothing else, I can do this wedding for us. For our family.

I push my shoulders back. If anyone can handle this, we can.

As the wedding planner motions for us to walk, I squeeze Uncle Jay’s arm, and my body quivers with adrenaline. Everyone stands like we’re royalty. Some gawk suspiciously at Uncle Jay, probably because of the bruises on his face and his disfigured hand. It won’t take long to figure out the backstory of this marriage.

I bite my lip and walk with purpose. There’s a tear in Uncle Jay’s eye, and it brings a tear to my own. He’s acting like I’m really getting married.

And, legally, I am.

We near the altar, and Kenzo’s eyes settle on me, sending heat between my thighs. His words echo in my mind:Run away while you still can.

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