AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Takeshi presses his lips to my forehead, and I close my eyes at the loving gesture. “Now that we’ve satisfied one hunger, let’s see about the other.” He pulls me into his side and we exit the supply closet.
Euphoria adds a layer of new colors over everything and my body feels weightless after being tended by Takeshi. Katsuo’s receptionist greets us with blush-stained cheeks and our lunch orders.
Although Takeshi remains stoic, I don’t hide my satisfied grin. There isn’t a guilty bone in my body when fucking or making love to my man regardless of the time or place. Our behavior isn’t different from our oyassan and ane-san. Portia’s screams put mine to shame.
While we eat in the sitting area facing the elevators, Takeshi observes me with a slight grin as I hum beneath my breath.
“Think we have time for another before the boss ends his lunch?”
My husband hesitates before shaking his head. “We’ll be cutting it too close.”
I huff my disappointment, but he’s right. With Portia’s and Katsuo’s schedules, these lunch dates are a luxury.
Ryota, one of Takeshi’s men who should be somewhere else in the building monitoring security, steps off the elevator. Beforewe can question him, Portia and Katsuo exit his office. Our boss’ relaxed body conflicts with his annoyed expression.
“I’ll see you at home tonight,” Katsuo says to Portia. He hugs her and releases her to face me and Takeshi. “Takeshi, I need you to stay here for a while. Ryota will escort Portia to her office and take over her protection while you’re here.”
Takeshi and I glance at each other. I shrug but nod at the door Katsuo disappears behind. I follow to resume my post at the door, but Katsuo says, “You need to be here for this, too, Shinji.”
CHAPTER 14
Takeshi
I wait for Shinji to enter Katsuo’s office. Curiosity flutters doubts in the back of my mind. The only reason I see for Katsuo’s uncharacteristic behavior is he’s discovered something about Lakeshia that puts our promise to her in jeopardy. All relaxation from my interlude with Shinji disappears. Tension slowly tightens the muscles in my body until I stand rigid, lacking the ability to breathe freely.
But I don’t show my weakness. I must wait to evaluate what this unknown problem is, I remind myself. I’ve learned never to react on impulse. Doing so has killed too many people I cared about. It’s one reason delaying my impending fatherhood is a relief.
My reaction is selfish, especially considering Shinji’s feelings on the subject. He has said nothing, but his disappointment is palpable. He swallows it back because, like me, he’s seen Lakeshia’s defensive behavior. As strong as our chiisai senshi no megami is, she is wounded. She needs to heal before Shinji can fulfill his ultimate desire.
And I will take advantage of every delay that keeps me from fucking up our future child’s life.
“Oyassan, why so serious? After lunch with your wife, you usually whistle show tunes,” Shinji says as my cousin closes the office door.
Katsuo spears Shinji with a deadly stare meant to curb my husband’s tongue. I shake my head because no one, including Katsuo, can completely subdue Shinji’s glib tongue.
“What’s so urgent?” I ask.
“Tommaso Giametti.”
Katsuo’s response works to wipe the levity from Shinji’s face. Although I expected the name and the potential problems to leapfrog over the other concerns in my head, I hate that my instincts are right.
“What about him?” Shinji comes to stand by me, his body vibrating with suppressed energy.
“He’s on his way here as we speak. Before you ask, I don’t know why or what he wants. You two are here because I don’t want to repeat whatever happens during this meeting.” Katsuo turns a hardened glare on Shinji. “And I don’t want you opening your mouth because you think I’m going to hang your woman out to dry. For Tomasso’s sake, she’s a Kimura now.”
My husband and cousin stare down at each other until Shinji agrees with a nod.
Katsuo nods and addresses me, “Although I know you won’t do anything impulsive, you need to hear the words, too. Lakeshia is under our protection.”
I bow my head and swallow the gratitude clogging my throat. Katsuo won’t accept it, anyway.
His phone rings, and he picks up the receiver. “Send him in.”
An older man with a full head of silver hair enters with two younger men flanking him. This must be Tomasso. I compare him with the few photographs Ichiro, the man I put in chargeof researching the Giametti family organization provided. Tomasso’s bearing demands respect, but he’ll get none from me.
The danger emanating from him is one I recognize. Predators can sense each other. Tomasso’s evaluating gaze lands on Shinji, me, then Katsuo. We are all dangerous, but what gives us the edge is that we don’t posture, thump our chests, or advertise that we’re the biggest baddies on the block. Our actions have won us the title. A title we don’t display, and from his disdainful stare, a title Tomasso doesn’t pick up on.
He sits in the chair facing Katsuo’s desk without an invitation. “So you’re Katsuo Kimura. You’re a hard man to find.”
