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As long as she doesn’t.
“Come on,” Martin grumbles, dragging me beside him to a small building at the edge of the depot. “I don’t have all fucking night.”
He shoves me through a group of men who I think might be Yakuza. If so…
Oh, Martin. You absolute idiot.
Sure enough, Raizo Watanabe is sitting behind the main desk, counting stacks of cash and listening to opera music. A woman in nothing but a satin slip and kitten heels massages his neck and shoulders while another one quickly rises from beneath the desk and wipes her mouth.
I quickly look away. I don’t need new memories replacing the already old and terrible ones.
“Who the fuck let you in here?” Raizo snaps at Martin.
“Shedid.” He finally lets go of my hair, but only to shove me forward onto my hands and knees.
Raizo leans over the desk to peer at me. His brow hits his hairline with casual surprise.
And then he grins.
Ihatethat fucking grin.
“Well done, Detective. Although I am confused. I distinctly remember selling her to… to… ah, right. Oleg Zakrevsky.”
“Zakrevsky’s dead,” Martin grumbles. “Word just came in through informants. Figured you’d want her back.”
The air leaves my lungs and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
Oleg. They’re talking about Oleg.
Now, I’m breathless for a whole new reason.
Oleg is dead?
Raizo seems to consider this for a moment. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I will say, however, that I am surprisedyouare the one bringing her to me. Last I heard, you were telling everyone who’d listen that she’s your wife. So tell me,DetectivePatterson, what is a cop doing here handing me his wife?”
“Selling,” Martin quickly corrects. “I’m selling you this ungrateful bitch because I’m tired of putting up with her shit. I’ll even look into a deal with you just to get her properly trained.”
Oh, Martin. You stupid, stupid man.
Raizo leans back in his seat and dismisses his slaves with an impatient flick of his hand. When he fixes his gaze on me, I feelmy skin crawl and my gut churn. He gestures for me to approach him, and that nausea only grows.
He swiftly pulls me onto his lap once I’m close enough, then looks at Martin like he’s some mouse the cat is about to enjoy playing with.
“Being a bad girl, are we?” Raizo gently strokes my hair over one shoulder. “We can’t have that.”
“She manipulated me!” Martin spits. “She got me to turn Greg in and now, they’re investigating me, too! I’m gonna lose everything!”
“Only a fool can be manipulated. That’s not her fault.”
I stifle a snort. This is not the time to laugh, or side with despicable assholes.
But Martin’s face? I’m loving it.
“But I guess you can’t be blamed too much. I imagine her pussy is beyond addictive.”
At this, Martin glowers. “I wouldn’t fucking know. The bitch keeps holding out on me.”
If Raizo looked surprised before, he’s downright shocked now. “Really? This whole time?”
