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One of the reasons I’ve won as often as I have in court is that I can put myself in the headspace of whoever is sitting across the room from me. I can see their motives. Read their thoughts. Anticipate their next moves before they even think of them, because I’m in their fucking heads.
That’s how it suddenly hits me: now, for the first time, I allow myself to get inside Takato’s head. And very quickly, I realize what I’ve missed in all of this.
“Mr. Ito, do you want to keep your empire?”
His face is expressionless as his eyes lock with mine, and he doesn’t answer.
“I’ll ask again. Do you?—”
“Of course I do.”
“Then I’m going to need your help.”
He looks confused when I pull the sword away from his neck. “Mr. Ito, your nephew Takato is stealing from you, at best. At worst, which is much more likely, he’s plotting to overthrow you and take all of it—the Ito empire and the Mori-kai remnants—for himself. I was there, in the room, when that money was transferred. But it was transferred by Takato’s men. And now it’s Takato who is attempting to marry Fumi to bring the Mori-kai under his own control.”
Something twitches in Orochi’s eye.
“You know there’s truth to what I’m saying,” I growl. “He’s been making big purchases recently, hasn’t he.”
Orochi is silent, his jaw tight as an iron band.
Yeah, that was a guess, but his reaction means I’m right.
“So, Ito-san,” I smile grimly. “These are your options: you can sit here watching TV while your traitorous nephew steals your throne out from under you. Or, you can help me, and you have my word that I will make sure that doesn’t happen.”
I’ve done what I’m about to do in court a hundred times. But in those instances, “handing over control” to a witness, or the accused, was always metaphorical.
This time, it’s an actual sword I flip in my hands and offer handle-first to Orochi.
Criminal as he may be, and as pissed at me as he is, Orochi is also a man who exists in a world built entirely on honor.
Or at least, I’m betting pretty heavy that he is.
But when he pushes it back toward me, I know I’ve won this round.
“Takato is mine,” he growls quietly as he stands.
“Mr. Ito, you have a deal.”
32
FUMI
“You can’t do this.”
“Shut up.”
I wince as Takato yanks me after him through the torii gate and up the stone steps to the shrine. The pair of armed men we drove up the mountain with follow us.
The last day has been a nightmare. I remember the floor dropping out from under me when I came face to face with the hard reality about what Gabriel is. I remember running from him, my heart breaking into a hundred pieces.
I remember going home, and then realizing I couldn’t be there at all and going for a walk.
Then there’s the shuddering flashback of the black van roaring up next to me. Of hands in black gloves grabbing me and yanking me into the darkness before putting a bag over my head and driving away.
Seventeen hours on a plane later, it was Takato who smiled darkly at me as he yanked that bag off me.
And now my fate is sealed, no matter how much I protest. No matter how much I scream that I’m already married, and he can’t do this.
