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Raizo considers this through a narrowed stare. For a moment, I think he’s going to call my bluff. But then he sighs and tiltshis head. “Done. Adding Detective Everett to the guest list as we speak.” He taps something on his phone, then sets it down with an air of finality.
“Do me one more favor.”
“I suppose I must, since you’re hosting.”
“See if his partner will join him.” It’s a low fucking blow, but the thought of flaunting Clara’s worth in front of her deadbeat ex-boyfriend is too tempting to pass up. I want him to see just how goddamned valuable she is, and I want him to realize just how fucking powerless he is and will always be.
Wait—focus, Demyen.
This is about revenge. On Clara.
“Why not invite the whole family?” Raizo chuckles and throws back his own shot of sake with a loud smack of his lips. “I hear Everett’s daughter is a fine piece of ass. Dumb as rocks, but she doesn’t need a brain when she’s on her back.”
He laughs like it’s the most deliciously funny idea he’s had all night. I know he expects me to join in. Hell,Iexpect myself to join in with at least a chuckle.
But that churning feeling in my stomach won’t go away no matter how much I try to drown it in rice wine and green tea. It roils when he talks about Clara, and my fist clenches around the shot glass.
I have more than half a mind to stab this glass through his fucking eye socket.
I should stab myowneye socket. The hell is wrong with me? Clara Everett isn’t my problem. She sure as hell isn’t mine to protect.
Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.
“We have a deal.” Raizo signals to the servers that we’re finished, and he gives me one final nod. “Bring your artifact to the auction. I will trust you’ll have it inspected and verified beforehand.” At my nod, he continues. “I’ll cut you the check for seventy percent of the highest bid?—”
“Cash.” It’s not that I don’t trust his paper; I just don’t trust him at all.
Raizo grins. “Cash, Mr. Zakrevsky. As you wish.”
With the deal struck, I take my leave. I’m not inclined to shake hands with him, and he knows what will happen should he double-cross me. He’s playing on my turf, by my rules, surrounded by my people.
It’s the allure of the unknown—the temptation to find out the secret of my “antique”—that has Raizo Watanabe in the palm of my hand.
He knows what will happen if I close my fist.
18
CLARA
The door slowly opens. I want to jump at the sight of him darkening the doorway, but I don’t want to startle Willow from her sleep. So instead, I tuck the blankets around her once more, then slide off the bed to meet him halfway.
I press a finger to my lips. I expect him to tell me to go to hell, that he’ll do whatever he wants, but he sees Willow in my bed and nods.
And then he ushers me into the next room over. The firm hand pressed at the small of my back doesn’t allow me any room to run. The look on his face dares me to try.
Once the door is closed, Demyen turns on me. But instead of backhanding me or pinning me to the wall, he only smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
I almost wish he’d just hit me instead.
“So,” he says quietly. “You remember me.”
“W-what do you mean?” My tongue feels thick and dry. Even though he’s not caging me in, his presence is suffocating.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Don’t play stupid, Clara. You?—”
“Don’t.” The word flies out before I can stop myself. My arms wrap tight around my waist without me thinking about it. I’m cowering. And I hate myself for it. “Don’t call me that. I’m not… I’m not stupid.”
Demyen’s fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move. “I know. I know you’re not. And that’s the problem.”
