Page 40 of Dangerous Deceit

“So there’s no such thing as privacy then,” I say jokingly, keeping my tone light. Inside, I’m jealous though. Why can’t our family have trust like theirs?

“If you have a problem with that, take it up with your husband.” He pries through the refrigerator contents again. “Go back to your”—he angles his head toward the side—“hair.”

Something tells me Niko is not here to make a sandwich, and an uneasiness rolls through my stomach. Niko isn’t like Kenzo at all; he gives me the creeps. But he’s probably not here to kill me. Ifthatwas the plan, Kenzo would’ve done it. Niko must either be waiting for Kenzo, or searching for something Kenzo has.

Like me.

I go back to the bathroom and actually fix my hair, keeping my eye on the door, conjuring a plan to get Niko to leave.

I’m not here to be Kenzo’s kept wife. The more I know, the better, and if that means talking to my husband’s weird underboss or whatever the hell Niko is, then I’ll do it.

By the time I’m done in the bathroom, the penthouse is eerily quiet again. I don’t find Niko anywhere, so I check the refrigerator to see if he was truly grabbing a snack. But everything is organized and in its place,untouched,as if nothing happened and I imagined Niko entirely. Either Niko was here to organize Kenzo’s fridge, or Kenzo hires someone to do his grocery shopping for him. Kenzo likes moving where he sleeps frequently; he lives on chaos and adventure. This level of organization isnotKenzo.

I don’t understand his family.

My eye catches on the locked room. The door is pushed halfway open, like it was never locked in the first place.

Niko must have unlocked it.

If Niko is the underboss, then why wouldhebe snooping through Kenzo’s locked room?

He has to know everything Kenzo is doing, right?

I double-check to make sure there are no security cameras in the penthouse, and then I step inside.

Natural light enters from a window. A wooden desk is positioned at an angle, and a bookshelf covers the back wall. A small globe. A set of books with bookends. Another record player, but this time, only a small set of albums sits next to it. Reading glasses collect dust on the top corner of his desk. His laptop is closed, stacked with a handful of papers.

My pulse races. It’s almost like this stack of papers was placed there so I could find them, like this information was waiting for me.

Golden Honor Firearmsis written at the top of the first page, with a few illegible notes. I decipher a couple:Harry Hayes. Offer sixty?Then a phone number.

Does the note mean sixty thousand or sixty million? Either way, I type the company name on my phone for later. This is the kind of thing our client wants.

The second page reads:Legendary Analysis. “Charity donations” never went through. Jones used payments for what? Tuesday.

I type that name too, but it seems different from the firearms company. Kenzowantsthe firearms company, but Legendary Analysis seems like a company he wants to blackmail.

The door slams open at the front of the penthouse, and a deep male voice bursts with song.

“Vi,” Kenzo shouts. “I bought you something.”

My stomach drops. I have no idea what that could be, but my heart pummels my rib cage, and I race to the front of the penthouse.

I hope whatever he brought for me is big enough to distract him.

I can’t let him find out I was in his office.

CHAPTER 20

VI

As soon asI lock eyes with Kenzo, I realize I should have closed the office door, but I was so eager to flee the scene of my snooping, I forgot. My throat aches, but Kenzo smiles at me, lifting up a thick candle. Gold and red metal encases the wax;Gucciis written on the front.

Gucci.

Gucci makes candles?

I inhale deeply, taking in the citrusy scent. It’s a paraffin wax with a long wick. It’s sweet of him, and maybe this gift means we’re onto something. If he actually likes me, then I can get more information out of him and figure out what he’s doing with the firearms company.

---