Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty Seven
KING’S POV
I take a deep breath before I knock on Yasuki’s door, waiting until I hear him ask me to come in before I do so. I’m kind of apprehensive about this meeting and what it’s for, because it’d not been scheduled prior like our other meetings. No, he’d had my father of all people call me at ungodly hours for this one, requesting my presence in his den, not his office, first thing this morning. And if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my years of being in his service? It’s that this only happens when there’s serious business he’s not willing to fuck around with on the table.
It's absolutely exciting and equally terrifying.
After a moment of silence passes, I knock again and this time I hear his almost too excited voice from inside, asking me to come on in.
Unsurprisingly, I find the source of his amusement hog tied to a chair in the middle of the room, looking like regret come alive. He’s a ginger male that’s at most in his mid twenties, watching in horror as a bright eyed Yasuki preps for him. His absolutely scared, pleading eyes fly in my direction immediately he senses me in the room, begging me to save him from what he knows is coming, but I watch unamused instead, as he fights with great futility against his constraints, trying to shout through the bright red gag ball forced into his mouth.
Yasuki ties the most complex knots known to man and he does it so effortlessly.
I find no pity in me for the pathetic boy or spare him a second glance though, because Yasuki, I know, doesn’t bring people into the den except their crime is worthy of his attention and when he does, he takes his time to make an artwork out of them.
“You sent for me, sir.” I say after I’ve bowed in greeting, gearing to find out what this is about and get out of here.
“Ahhh…” He says smiling, even as he picks up his pliers from the table.
“This one was brought to me last night. He’s found assaulting the daughter of one of my soldiers, a minor might I add, which baffles me because I know there are pleasure houses tucked into almost every corner of his side of town.” He announces casually, plucking a nail from its bed with such precision even I am amazed.
Muffled screams assault my ears and I have to bite down to keep myself from joining the party. I love getting my hands dirty with pigs like this.
“I was keeping busy with him while I waited for you.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
He laughs it off easily. “Always so prim and proper, you. Waiting has never killed anyone.”
Turning, he gets busy again with his bound victim for another minute or ten, pulling nail after nail until all ten fingers lay sore and bleeding. I just stand there, waiting, watching, taking gratification in knowing this one here will pay gravely for not keeping it in his pants.
Abandoning him, Yasuki pulls off his gloves, he’s the only one I know that takes the time to put a pair on before torturing people. Going over to the mini bar in the room, he pulls down two glasses and pours around two fingers of scotch each.
“Drink with me.”
He hands me one before going to sit on one of the couches in the other half of the room, inviting me to take a seat opposite him. His eyes are dancing with mischief as he takes a sip, relaxing into the chair as he waits for me to get comfortable too.
“Do you know why Matteo is married to that pretty little thing of his?” He asks out the blues, taking me by surprise.
Why is Yasuki of all people asking me about Matteo fucking Perez and his marriage? The man’s name never comes up in our conversations except it’s business.
“Not exactly, sir…..”
The only thing I know for sure is that it’s obviously not for love because that man is all over my assistant, who is a man, like a bad rash. But with this question hanging still in the room, I’m starting to think it has something to do with the syndicate. Knowing this doesn’t make me any more comfortable because I can’t for the life of me fathom why I should be concerned about that and what it has to do with this meeting in particular.
“It’s a small sacrifice he made for the family.” Yasuki drops with a casual shrug like the damned thing is not a big deal, taking another swig of his drink.
I look up, confused, only to find him already watching me, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his flattened lips. After a brief pause that feels like a charged eternity, he continues in his usual tone like we’re having the most basic of conversations.
“We all make it eventually, say vows, play pretend, whatever, as long as it’s what’s needed to protect the interest of this organization, we get it done.”
What the fuck is he going on about? And what has that got to do with……
“You’ve always wanted to branch out into more legitimate businesses, King, and I’ve always respected that but it was never the right moment. Let’s say, I’ve been waiting for the right time to work that out and the right opportunity just fell into our lap.”
He finishes the content of his glass, tossing it aside to focus fully on me, his body acquiring that intimidating stance of his that makes men even twice his size cower in his presence.
“I have a new business in Chicago that I want in your name. It’s clean and legit and exactly what we need to begin setting our legitimacy in stone, especially with our expansion into Chicago. But it comes with an iron clad clause that makes the acquisition possible only by marriage. The consigliere and I talked, he agrees you’re the best we can do.”
My first, instant reaction to everything Yasuki just told me is anger, red hot anger at being treated like a commodity in my absence and being told now like a child what to do. I glare at the man as he pours himself another drink, thinking of all the disrespectful ways I can call bullshit on this and ask him to go fuck himself.
But in the last minute before I lose my head, I reign it back in.
This is Yasuki, my Godfather and the only person I answer to. There’s not much I can do right now that won’t earn me a bounty on my head. He can be vicious like that.
“My father doesn’t speak for me, sir.” I grind out, watching him light up a fat cigar.
He looks unbothered and I know it’s because at the end of the day, he’s worked out exactly how to back me into doing his bidding.
I hate it when it gets like this, when I’m forced to feel powerless. I just want to slam my fist into something.
“It’s why I’m asking you to speak for yourself.” He pauses.
“Weigh it heavily before you do.”
Rolling his eyes as if calling bullshit on our back and forth, he holds his smoke in the fingers of one hand, the other tapping the table.
“It can be a marriage in name only. After the first year, you can do whatever you want, fuck your way through the whole of Illinois, I don’t give a fuck, but we need the marriage to get the damned company. A lot of money is riding on this and if you make me lose it, I might not get to your precious family fast enough to punish you myself.”
“Your girl, she’s in Chicago, no? Take the damn deal and go be with her. All I want is a fucking marriage certificate with my candidate and for you to hold back that first crucial year and then you can go as feral as you want. Keep your shit off the press, her father is kind of uhhhh….known.”
With that, he waves me off.
“Don’t give me reason to come after you, King. You’re the son I never had but by God, I won’t hesitate to come after you if you jeopardize me first. Do. You. Understand.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we’re settled. I have this bastard to get back to.” He says, rising with a slight difficulty because of his leg, the only sign, sometimes, that he’s human and can be vulnerable too. Someone that might not live to see the end of today because of his indiscretions.
What the fuck did I just walk myself into? Fuckkkkkkk!