Kai didn’t move, his back to me. “Makiko.”

Her frigid mask fractured, intense emotion rippling over her features before she recovered. “You lost the right to address me that way eight years ago.”

“Mōshiwake gozaimasen,” Kai said softly, “Miura-sama.”

She raised her chin, stretching her body taller, but it did little to increase her stature. She was several inches shorter than me and several more inches shorter than Kai.

“Well, Kaisuke. The oyabun has given you to me to do with as I please. Starting now, your transformation from shameful runaway to respectable Yamada heir begins.”

I blinked at the sun, wondering how its golden light had lost all warmth over the last couple hours.

Zak stood beside me, arms folded as he leaned against the black SUV. Several goons in suits waited around, eerily quiet—small talk was not a thing here—and more men and women in traditional garb moved about in a busy sort of way.

“I don’t understand what happened,” I whispered.

“We laid eyes on the Yamada oyabun and lived to tell the tale.” He shrugged. “A better outcome than I expected.”

“Oyabun?” I repeated in a mumble.

“The head of the head family. The Yamadas are like the mafia. One family in charge, and dozens of lesser families under their command. Most people call them all Yamadas, but that’s not accurate.”

“How do you know so much about them?”

He angled his face toward the sun, eyes closed. “I’ve dealt with them on and off over the years. They’re a dominant player in the Vancouver black markets.”

“Oh.” I rubbed my face. “So, what the hell was going on in that room? Kai’s grandfather gave him to that woman?”

“You can’t figure it out yourself?”

I shot him a glare.

“The woman is his fiancée, right?” Zak didn’t open his eyes. “The oyabun is bringing Kai into line by humiliating him. He made Kai subservient to a woman—to his future wife. For a traditional family like the Yamadas, that’s the ultimate emasculation.”

“How will that change anything? Kai won’t obey her. Once we’re back in Vancouver, he’ll ditch them again.”

The druid cracked an eye open. “You aren’t familiar with the Yamadas, are you?”

“You know that already.”

“I thought you might’ve learned something while I was gone. The oyabun doesn’t need to make obvious threats. Kai knows what’ll happen if he disobeys. See?”

He tilted his head and I looked in that direction. Makiko was gliding down the main building’s front steps, and she’d replaced her kimono with skintight leather pants and a sleeveless black top, its collar snugged tight around her throat. A thick belt circled her narrow hips, and two odd silver rods hung from it, swinging with her steps.

Kai followed her, carrying two suitcases, and I could only assume they belonged to Makiko.

My hands curled into fists, but I choked back my fury. I needed to keep it together—at least until I could get Kai alone and find out how much we should be panicking.

He glanced at me, and the warning in his tight expression reinforced my restraint. Setting the suitcases down, he opened the hatch on the SUV and loaded his fiancée’s luggage into the back.

“Kaisuke, ride with me,” Makiko ordered. “Your friends can take the other vehicle.”

Kai shut the hatch with a bang. “Hai, Miura-sama.”

“English, Kaisuke. The oyabun doesn’t deem you worthy of Japanese.”

“Yes, Miura-sama.”

She cast an icy stare at the nearby men, as though daring them to comment—and it was a good thing she was looking elsewhere, because Zak had to grab my arm as I lunged for her. Breathing hard through my nose, I let Zak pull me toward the second vehicle.

Kai stood obediently beside Makiko as she gave instructions to the driver. Slim Japanese men surrounded them, some in suits and some in traditional clothing, and I was struck hard by how much Kai stood out. Taller than any of them, his complexion far more Caucasian than Japanese, and his features such a unique blend of his two heritages that he didn’t closely resemble either.

I slung his backpack off my shoulders. I’d been carrying it around since we’d left the precinct, and Makiko must’ve assumed it was mine. Otherwise, I was betting she would’ve confiscated it, snooped through his things, then thrown it all in the garbage, just to make Kai feel worse. Setting the backpack on the floor in front of my seat, I climbed into the vehicle.

Zak shut my door, though not out of chivalry; he was making sure I couldn’t punch Makiko. He circled around the SUV and settled into the seat beside me.

“What were you saying?” I demanded as soon as he’d closed his door. “About Kai having to obey that woman?”

“Think about it, Tori. You don’t need me to explain.”

My stomach turned to a hard, sick lump. “If he doesn’t do what she says, she’ll tell his grandfather. And his grandfather will …”

He would threaten the people Kai loved, the same way his family had threatened to kill Izzah when she and Kai first dated. Except … what had his grandfather said? Do not test my mercy again. That almost sounded like—

“It wouldn’t be the first time the Yamadas have assassinated a family member who became a liability,” Zak murmured.

I stared out the window, horror rolling through me as Kai got into the SUV. Two men headed toward our vehicle—the driver and a spare goon.

“Frankly,” he added, “I’m surprised they let him off the hook for this long. Maybe his friendship with Aaron played a role in that. The Sinclairs are powerful enough to inconvenience the Yamadas.”

“You sound really choked up about this,” I growled.

He leaned back in his seat. “Kai knew this was coming. You can never truly leave a family like this one.”

“Yeah, but—”

“He’s alive.” His sharp stare pinned me in place. “There are far worse things, and far worse people to control your life.”

That flat, frozen hatred burned in his eyes again, and my heart drummed in my throat, a voice in the back of my head whimpering fearfully.

The driver’s door opened, saving me from answering. The goons got in, started the engine, and pulled behind the other SUV as it drove through the front gate. I could just make out the shadow of Kai’s head through the tinted window.

Far worse things … but that didn’t mean this wasn’t Kai’s worst nightmare.

Chapter Eight

I was back on a plane—or more accurately, a jet. And it was a whole different beast from the one we’d flown on this morning.

The sofa—yes, sofa—I was slouched on was upholstered in supple white leather. The ceiling was a smooth arch paneled with more leather and gentle yellow lights, uncluttered by overhead compartments. To my left, four plush armchairs sat around a floating tabletop attached to the wall. Across from me was another sofa, and on my right was an elegant little bar, wine glasses clinking gently with the occasional rumble of turbulence. I was pretty sure I’d glimpsed a full bedroom at the back, partially obscured by a privacy partition.

This was one of the Yamadas’ private jets, and we were on a direct flight back to Vancouver.

Kai and Makiko sat on the sofa across from me and Zak. She held a slim, shiny tablet, a small crease of concentration between her brows and her thin legs crossed at the knee.

“A lot has changed since you left,” she murmured, her quiet tone a stark contrast to her snapping commands from earlier. “My family has expanded operations significantly in the Vancouver region, and in Seattle as well. Our standing with the oyabun has increased proportionately.”

Kai said nothing.

“My father transitioned to semi-retirement four years ago, and I’ve stepped into his role—with his guidance.” She glanced at her fiancé, a hint of hope in her eyes, as though he might praise her accomplishment.

“Yes, Miura-sama,” he said after a moment.

Her lips squeezed together—not angrily, but to suppress her reaction. “If you’d stayed in the family, you would already be head of our Vancouver operations. I can’t place you in a senior role immediately, but we can move you up from a junior position quickly.”

“Yes, Miura-sama.”

She leaned toward him. “If you commit to your role, I think my father would name you his successor in as little as three years.”

My eyebrows rose. Wasn’t she the current successor? Why did it sound like she wanted Kai to usurp her position?

“Yes, Miura-sama,” he repeated.

Makiko’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her tablet. She opened her mouth—then glanced at me and Zak. She coughed delicately and tapped on her screen.

“For now, you can shadow me and get reacquainted with everything,” she went on, her tone cool and businesslike. “With the preparations we’re making, my schedule will be hectic. Are you aware of the recent developments following Red Rum’s withdrawal?”

A flicker in his expressionless face, but he said nothing.

I, unfortunately, did not have Kai’s impulse control. “Do you mean the lack of crime? Did you give all your thugs a holiday or something?”

She scoffed, annoyed that I’d responded instead of Kai. “We haven’t altered our operations. We drove out the last dregs of Red Rum at the end of December, and with the disappearance of the Ghost, it’s grown unusually quiet.”

Zak, who’d so far been trying to nap upright in his seat, cracked his green eyes open.

“The Ghost?” I repeated warily. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“His habit of inconveniencing larger organizations gave other lone wolves the idea that they could defy us, but without him, they’ve tucked their tails between their legs. Either way, he isn’t a concern anymore—or won’t be shortly.”