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I hate how much I still want him despite the chaos he brings into my life. I’ve even been havinginsanelyvivid dreams, two of which I woke up from outrageously wet and legit breathless.
Shoving those thoughts aside, I focus on Annika, who is still talking animatedly before her eyes suddenly widen as she looks past me.
“Oh my god! I was wondering if you’d actually come.”
Kir chuckles as he walks down the stairs, followed by the quiet-as-usual Isaak.
“Being that we’ve entered into this peace treaty with the Yakuza?—”
“You mean being that Imarried intothe Yakuza, but yes, please, go on,” Annika grins teasingly.
Kir rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Well, exactly. It felt like a good opportunity to come and visit Sota too. We can talk business all day over the phone, but it’s important to occasionally break bread and share a drink with your allies.”
Annika gives first him and then Isaak a hug before we all pile into the cars and leave the airstrip. Japan has been on my bucket list forever, and Kyoto isstunning, so I keep my face glued to the window as we wind through the scenic hills, taking it all in.
Annika’s voice lowers conspiratorially as she whispers to me about Kenzo’s mansion. “This place isinsane. Kenzo took it over from the head of this other Yakuza family that he…you know…”
I draw a line across my neck and make a dramatic “death” sound.
Annika snickers. “I fucking missed you, weirdo.”
“Ha! Missed you more.”
Kir chuckles. “You know, she’s a married woman now, Freya.”
“Yeah, to hersecondhubby,” I shrug. “You know I’ll always be her first and favorite.”
Annika hoots in laughter as she hugs me. Kir just sighs.
“Judging from the glow she’s got on her face,” he grins, “I’m not so sure I’d bet on that, Freya.”
“Pfft. Who asked you, anyway,” I tease back, returning my attention to the window and the stunning views.
Gorgeous as it is, the closer we get to the house, the more my thoughts are completely consumed byhim.
Mal.
The moment we arrive at Kenzo’s mansion, I understand what Annika was talking about. It’sbreathtaking. Nestled high in the hills overlooking old Kyoto, the estate is a mix of traditional Japanese architecture and modern style, blending seamlessly into the lush gardens surrounding it. It’s a fortress of luxury where old meets new.
“A toast!” Kir smiles, tapping the side of his vodka glass.
We’ve had dinner in one of the lush gardens on the grounds of Kenzo’s estate, and now the whole mad gathering has turned into a party. Everyone’s here: Annika and Kenzo, Hana, Takeshi, Kir, Isaak, Sota, and a number of Sota’s and Kenzo’s people. All smiling around the garden, drinking and having a grand old time.
Well, noteveryoneis here. In the four hours I’ve been here, I’ve still yet to get a single glimpse of Mal.
Just the same, I’m having fun. I’m ignoring the black cloud that his absence always brings, and instead choosing to have a ball with my best friend in the world and the man she isclearlynow head over heels for.
I limit myself toonejoke about being Annika’s “first wife” and telling Kenzo that he’d better watch himself. But he appreciatesmy weird humor, or at least does a really great job of pretending to.
Sota istickledwhen I lift my shirt up to my ribs and show him myMemento Moritattoo after a few drinks, hooting that perhaps we need to strengthen the Yakuza-Bratva bond by having me marry Takeshi, since I’ve already got his last name on my skin.
There’s an even bigger laugh from the older Yakuza boss when Tak and I make the same puke face at the same time.
That said, even though I’d never in a million yearsmarryTakeshi, I like the guy. All of Kenzo’s siblings—yes, including Mal—are different, and yet seem to carry the same fierce streak. Hana is a boss bitch on steroids—all business and clean cut, surgical edges. Mal’s the dark, somber, slightly scary one.
Takeshi, though, is pure unadulterated chaos, to the point where I’m legitimately wondering if he actuallyhascrashed one of his barely street-legal motorcycles and done some brain damage. He’s constantly in motion, with this almost maniacal, psychotic glint in his eye, like he’s about to challenge death to an arm wrestling match or a car race down a mountain road.
He’s alsofunashell, and even loves some of the same weird, esoteric bands that I do. Plus he’s promised to take me out on a couple of his crazy souped-up bikes for a ride around the hills outside Kyoto while I’m here, which sounds super fun.
