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“Who and why,” Takeshi responds. For a second, his fingers tighten around me, but he relaxes them almost immediately.

Of course, he hasn’t forgotten I’m the reason we don’t already have this information. But I find it hard to muster an ounce of regret. Takeshi isn’t the only one between the two of us who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

“The Giametti family. Specifically Tommaso Giametti.”

“Never heard of him,” I say while mining my memory for any information I may have on them. “You?” I turn to question Takeshi.

“Me neither. Where is he based? Do you know if he’s protected by another family?”

“He’s mainly in Florida, but he could have his hands in other states.” Lakeshia crosses her legs, providing a momentary distraction from our discussion with the way the pants’ material stretches across her thick thighs.

I adjust myself.

“I’ve run from the Giamettis long enough to know they have allies, but I don’t know who or how much power their associates wield. The information I’ve gathered over the years is very limited.”

“That gives us the who…”

She huffs and clenches her fists, but she stops avoiding the topic. “I watched while Tommaso murdered my father and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”

She turns glassy eyes filled with frustration, fury, and anguish on us. I’ve never had a loved one taken from me in the same way but I understand the powerlessness she must feel. Loss is loss whether from violence or other causes. And no matter why it happens, how much one begs, how much money one has, how many bargains one makes with God, the result is the same; death leaves a permanent reminder on one’s heart.

“How old were you?” Takeshi’s voice is thicker than normal and his stuttered breath feathers my back to tell me I’m not alone in sympathizing with Lakeshia.

His response is a good sign. Nothing gets Takeshi invested like a person holding back emotions strong enough to cripple a weaker person.

“I’d just turned twelve and I ended my birthday digging a grave for my dad.”

I sit in awe of her. Years ago, her behavior and how quickly she caught me following her spoke of a person on the run but nothing I saw prepared me for her reality.

It’s a miracle her long-held thirst for vengeance hasn’t completely poisoned her. She is still the woman who helped our ane-san when she faced the unthinkable, cushioned my head with a scarf after she knocked me unconscious the first time, and the same woman who forewarned Dr. Kelekolio what to expect the second time she left me with a concussion.

If I hadn’t fallen for her the day I woke to her scent on the scarf, I wouldn’t stand a chance now.

My body vibrates with suppressed energy. I want to start digging into our contacts and find everything there is to know about this Tommaso Giametti. The sooner we deal with him, the sooner Takeshi, Lakeshia, and I can focus on building our family.

“Before we plan anything, we’ll need my cousin’s blessing,” Takeshi says, reminding me that our obligations outside of this new unit we are creating are still a thing.

“Blessing?” Lakeshia rears back. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about this? There were no caveats while we negotiated that one-sided contract you had me sign.”

“We have to tell Katsuo,” I say. “It is a formality, but a necessary one to show we respect our oyassan and to prepare our organization for potential blowback. When we declare war on an enemy, they’ve already lost. We’ll have taken control of the battlefield and removed all hope for victory from them before they raise their first gun.”

“So this Katsuo person will not be an obstacle to getting what I want?”

“Not in the least,” Takeshi says as he stands, leaving me on the couch. “The earlier we impregnate you, the more resources he will willingly lend us.”

“Yeah…about that, we still have to wait for my test results to come back. I used protection with my clients, but you can never be too safe, am I right?”

Lakeshia’s second mention of her clients does not sit well with me. It never will. When I discovered she was the madam our organization had been protecting for years, I didn’t connect what she did with who she was. Then I woke to find she’d fled. For the past three weeks, every time I thought about her servingother men, I shied away from the thought because there is only one other man I will allow her to fuck.

Her clients are her past. Takeshi and I are her present and future. And moans like the ones she let out at lunch will be for our pleasure and no one else’s if I have any goddamn say in the matter.

Although I can respect a woman’s healthy sex drive, Lakeshia is different. I don’t need to hear about the men that came before Takeshi and I entered her life. They need to remain faceless and nameless. If one of them ever crosses my path, I’ll have zero chill and no regrets in ending them.

“Do yourself a favor, Lakeshia,” Takeshi says granite-faced. “Don’t bring up your previous profession or the other men you fucked again. Until our agreement ends, your pussy belongs to us.”

Fuck, I love this man so much.

I eye my husband, wondering if I can entice him to fuck me now. He rarely lets me initiate our sex play. And he has yet to lose control with me. But he promised me a reward at the hotel this morning. A shiver of anticipation runs up my spine as I wonder how he’ll fulfill his vow.

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