Page 56 of Dangerous Deceit

And I will benice.

CHAPTER 25

KENZO

But there’snothingniceabout the way I drive. I tailgate every car in front of me, darting around until I finally make it to my destination. I put on my gloves and text one of my handlers, telling them to get Patrick and bring him to John’s Town on Boulder Highway.

The casino is lit up like it means something, but that’s the thing about Boulder Highway. You don’t find tourists here but seasoned residents, addicts, and people like me. People who can’t seem to crawl out of this fucking hellhole. People who need to be knocked down.

Nice people.

I gave Patrick a warning. I told him not to touch my wife. I simply didn’t realize it would extend retroactively. That’s usually not my deal, but with Patrick, I’ll be nice and make an exception.

A few minutes later, I find Patrick resting against the casino’s exterior, his ankles crossed. A button-up navy blue shirt and white slacks don his frame like he’s ready for a job interview. He’s tall, probably a year or two younger than me, but all I see is his hands on Vi.My wife.

Patrick straightens his shirt. He really thinks we’re going to talk business right now. And we are, in a way. Viismy business. It’s better to keep your enemies close to you, right under your thumb, where you can crush them.

“Hey, man,” Patrick says. We shake hands. There are no false niceties when it comes to Patrick. He didn’t learn Japanese phrases before meeting me. He treats me like a brother-in-law, and there’s something I can respect in that. No games. Just business.

And so, I get right to it.

“Vi tells me you want to sell,” I say.

He nods eagerly. “Yeah, man. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Shabu-8 is the shit. I can?—”

I motion to the side of the building, glancing around us like I don’t want anyone to overhear us. The truth is no one gives a shit in this part of town. Half of these people probably buy from my dealers.

“Let’s go around the back,” I say. “We can talk privately over there.”

He follows me like a puppy dog, and a twinge of sharp emotion runs through me. I don’t know what it is—guilt? Anger?Rage?What if Vi feels bad about her cousin dying? Maybe Patrick is a victim of his father’s upbringing too. Maybe his father is a piece of shit raising another fucking turd, his son, to believe this is how you protect family—by breaking them before the world can.

But that’s not family to me. I ran away from home, and I still have people watching out for my biological parents. This isn’t the life they wanted for me, but it’s the life I chose, and I still respect them. Still make sure they’re okay. Still send them anonymous payments so they’re well taken care of. That’s family. And that’s not even my chosen family! I’ve killed for the Endo-kai. I’ve dedicated my life to serving our yakuza.

Respect. Loyalty. Family. None of that means anything to Patrick Petrus.

A few cars are parked behind the building, probably employees, and dumpster bins dot the premise every couple of feet. Spotlights beam down on us, lighting the oil shimmering in the cracks of the asphalt. The security cameras are aimed at us, but I know the owner; he’s under our protection racket, and we’ve given him a discount on Shabu-8. The more drugged up his clientele is, the more likely they are to gamble away their savings. Everyone is happy. Everyonewins.And I happen to know those security cameras are for show. The owner won’t mind if I take care of business back here. And if he does, I’ll take care of him too.

I want to kill him, but if Vi’s “family” is working for someone, then I need to do my duty. I need to get Patrick comfortable. Get him to talk. See what he’s willing to say.

“Here’s the deal,” I finally say. Patrick’s sinewy muscles and blond hair face me, but he’s got the same blue eyes as Vi, and for a moment, that stops me. But not for long. I keep my emotions in, making sure he thinks this is legit. “I’ve got a beginner’s plan. Best place to start is over by the college. Plenty of students over there live off of Shabu-8. They’re gullible too. Play to their cocky sides, then upcharge the hell out of them.”

“I can raise prices?”

That’s what “upcharge” means, bakayarou.Idiot. He’s a fucking idiot. But I play along, giving him my classic charm.

“Exactly,” I say. “It’s easy to build a following there. Try Harmon and Maryland. There are plenty of little places you can use to meet buyers.”

He wipes his nose on the back of his hand. My upper lip curls in disgust; it’s like he’s dog shit on the bottom of my shoe.

“All right. You don’t have people over there?” he asks.

I do, but that doesn’t matter.

“Focus onyou,brother,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No one’s going to give you problems except for me.”

He flinches, but my lips pull up in satisfaction. Yeah, that was a bit much, but I want panic to rise in his chest.

“You’re a smart man,” I say calmly. I squeeze his shoulder, holding back the anger boiling inside of me at being this close to him andnotripping his head off. “If you make me happy, there’s no reason for me to give you problems. Everything is business. You know that.”

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