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It means at some point, Sota had to make amends with hisoyabun—his boss, before he himself became the man at the top. And when you need to make amends with a Yakuza boss?
You cut off your own pinky.
The Bratva has a reputation for being hardcore. But the Yakuza fucking redefines the word.
To be polite, I bow stiffly as he walks up to me. He smiles, chuckling quietly and shaking his head as he stops in front of me.
“While I appreciate the gesture of respect, there’s no need for that, Miss Holm.”
I arch a brow. Sota smiles.
“You’re surprised I know who you are.”
“A bit, yes.”
He nods. “You’ve had many people looking at you tonight, haven’t you, Miss Holm?”
I glance down at my outfit. “I’ve…noticed some interest.”
Sota chuckles quietly. “I’m sure. And I’m sure that was at least part of your goal.”
I clear my throat. “Sota-san, if I’ve offended you with my attire this evening?—”
“Far from it, Miss Holm,” he says with that same polite smile. “In fact, I think this party—if we’re even calling it that—could use the sort of life a spiked choker injects into the conversation.”
I grin. “Thank you.”
He dips his head. “I too was looking at you.” He holds up a hand. “Not for any inappropriate reasons, I can assure you. And not for the same reasons others might have been. No, Miss Holm, I was looking at you because I’ve heard a lot about your…talents.”
My brow quirks up again as I sip my drink.
“I’m not sure?—”
“Specifically with computers, and gaining information.”
I feel my cheeks heat slightly.
“Oh?”
He dips his chin again. “I have a similarly talented man in my family. Perhaps you’ve met Mal Ulstäd?”
I force back the shiver that finger-walks up my spine.
No, but he’s been staring at me like he wants to either skin me alive or fuck me all night. Or both, in that order.
“I’m not sure I’ve had the pleasure,” I say through a tight smile.
“Ah, well, he’s quite good at what you do.”
Interesting.
“And,” Sota continues, “with your organization and mine setting aside hostilities, I was hoping I might be able to entice you with some employment opportunities. Provided, of course, that Kir approves.”
I smile at Sota. “That’s very kind of you to offer, Sota-san. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
He beams. “Excellent. That would be—ah!” He looks past me as the cold, chilling sensation returns, dragging like a blade up my spine. “Here he is. Mal—come and meet Miss Holm.”
Before I can come up with a reason to extricate myself from this hellacious situation, I feel it—a shift in the air, like a gust of cold wind sweeping through the room. My heart stutters, a low pulse of dread rippling through my chest as I turn and follow Sota’s gaze.
