Page 72 of Five

I’d rather die.

Chapter Twenty-One - Five

Chen is looking at me weird. “What?” I ask.

“Why was Wen here?”

He might’ve gotten in undetected, but he didn’t leave that way. I escorted him out, shook his hand in the driveway, and when I turned around, there was a crowd waiting for an explanation.

Which I did not provide.

Chen isn’t leaving my apartment until he gets an answer, so I pour us each a drink, hand him one, and take it to the window.

He follows me and we stare out at Victoria Harbor at night. “It’s very pretty here,” I say.

“Cut the shit, Five. What the hell was Wen doing here? And how did he get in?”

“In?” I ask. “I have no idea. But he was here to offer me a deal.”

“There is no deal you can offer. You’re not in charge yet.”

“Right,” I say, looking over at him to smile. “And with any luck I never will be.”

Chen frowns. “You will be. If you don’t fuck it up by inviting your grandfather’s mortal enemy to his home. Now what did he want?”

“What all men want, Chen. More power.”

“And you gave it to him?” Chen’s face is red with anger. “What kind of—”

“I didn’t give him shit,” I say. “As you just pointed out, I don’t have that ability yet.”

“But you’re thinking about it?”

“I don’t know what to think right now. My grandfather is dead and you have no answers for me. On top of that, I’m somewhere I’d rather not be. I can’t go home or even leave this house until you tell me to. I’m practically a prisoner.”

“You knew what this was when your grandfather brought you in.”

“I was nine,” I say, trying very hard not to seethe those words. “You can’t expect a nine-year-old child to make a life decision like that.”

Chen is silent, so I continue.

“I don’t want this life, Chen. I don’t want to live in Hong Kong. I don’t want to run a mob. I don’t want power.”

“Since when?” he asks. “Because everything was fine before you went to Colorado to see Rory.”

“I went to Colorado to put out a fire. Rory never factored into that.”

“But she was there and you saw her. And now things have changed.”

“Well,” I say, taking a sip of my drink, “as you well know, that fire didn’t get put out. I just left it smoldering. But it’s got a lot more fuel now. And I think we both know I’m not the man for this job.”

“With me by your side, you could be.”

Right.

“Do not make a deal with Wen. They will kill you if they find out you were even discussing it. You will say he came to offer condolences. That you gave him permission to meet you here. Had him smuggled in. And I will threaten some gardener to lie for you. Do you understand?”

“Sure,” I say, turning my back to him. “As I said, it’s not even my deal to make. And I made that clear to Wen before he left.”