We’re taken to a small room at the back guarded by one more Yakuza. He stands firm in front of the open doorway, eyes like slits at Quinn as he approaches.
“Gentlemen, you’ll have to leave your weapons outside,” somebody calls from inside the room. Quinn’s head tilts around the guy, his shoulders loosening their rigid demeanour for a second. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.” Heels sound, their clip gentle on the concrete below us. “This is a business meeting after all.” Quinn snorts, amusement in his tone. I don’t know what the hell for. “I’d like to get out of this particular…situation as soon as you would, I’m sure.”
She comes into view then, her petite body almost eclipsed by the Yakuza in front of her. She’s around five foot four with dark hair, and clothes most couldn’t afford. I recognize her from the library of images I’ve sifted through these past few days. There was never a name attached. Never a position in the hierarchy that I could find either, but she’s got some power we know nothing of. She’s younger than I thought she would be from the photos, too—maybe late twenties, early thirties at most. She narrows her stare over the other guy and draws a cigarette to her mouth as she looks Quinn over with a smile, barely acknowledging my existence.
Fuck her.
“Quinn?” she says, lips widening like a goddamn whore. He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his energy change. He’s become looser, amused. It makes me frown and wonder what the hell’s gotten into him. “Weapons please.” She peers around him at me. “And you’ve brought your accountant with you. Nathan Cane, I presume?” Bitch. “Yours as well.”
Screw that.
I step to the side of him, and then in front.
“Back up into that room,” I snarl out, eyes levelled straight at her. She frowns a little and crosses her arms, a puff of smoke blown out in my direction. “Business meetings should have some pressure attached to them. These weapons will keep you focused. That, and the amount of collateral you’re about to lose if you don’t do as you’re damn well told, should have you sitting your entitled fucking ass down.” Quinn chuckles. She scowls at that, eyes whipping back to him. I keep staring straight at her, shoulder beginning to push into the Yakuza on guard. “Not him. Me. You’re dealing with me.” She looks back at me and lets that smile come again, arms softening until she lets them swing at her side and says something in Japanese to the guard. He moves instantly, opening the route in.
Damn right.
“Where’s the girl?” I spit out, storming over to the desk.
“Oh no. That comes at the end, Nathan,” she says, rounding behind me and sitting across the other side of the desk. I sneer at the thought of getting to the end, listening to the sound of more feet hurrying across the concrete outside. “When you have agreed to our demands.” Demands? Fuck her. She’s not getting a damn thing from Cane this way. “And I’d rather deal with the one in charge.” I glance back to see Quinn pulling his gun and closing the door, his back turned on us. She smiles at me, as if there’s nothing to concern her, and waits for him to say something. My laptop is out and set up, gun laid alongside it before she can blink. “The east coast is what we require for our business to be completed. Specifically, your hold over Chicago’s river and port access.” Of course, it is. “Mr Alves has already conceded his stance. You are the last obstruction to clearing our shipping routes. Your brother knows that well enough.”
Quinn’s right—arrogant little fucks.
“You bring her here now, so I can see her,” I mutter, booting up and inputting codes. I’ll show her a goddamn thief she can’t intimidate. All these years of manoeuvring as legally as our life allows, trying to act within the rules we live by, and finally the need comes for full on larceny.
No one should ever trust an accountant, certainly not one like me when pushed.
We’re capable of anything given enough impetus.
The financials pop up on screen, all their offshore accounts open for my use if I feel so inclined. It’s taken days for this to happen, constant syntax evaluation and making my way through their cyber security, quietly. Fucking useless firewalls, bugs and flaws weakening their threat vector, allowing me in at the back end. Weak as shit. It was easier than I thought given their stature. No one stopped me. No one even fucking noticed I was coming through back doors. “Or this discussion goes nowhere further than me stripping your east coast assets with the push of a key.”
I lean back in my chair, finger hovering and waiting. She scowls but still doesn’t move or speak. Instead she widens that damn smile, perhaps assuming I’m bluffing or hoping I’m interested in fucking her.
I’m neither.
The damn bitch looks to Quinn again.
“I don’t think there’s any need for—”
“East coast first then.” I turn the screen to her, my finger depressing the key the moment she sees it. Fifty-two million empties into my control, the numbers rolling back until nothing but zero shows on the account balance. “Bring the girl in here before I pull up the west coast assets.”
Still she remains quiet, no movement to get Gabby to me as she continues with that smile. It fucking infuriates me, rage bubbling under my skin regardless of my cool demeanour. And then she damn well laughs. She laughs as if this is a game and nothing is of any goddamn interest to her.
“I’m not sure which Mr Cane I should be conversing with,” she says eventually, catching her breath after whatever hilarity she just went through. “Very smart, Nathan. But your Gabriella is still in my control, so you’ll put our money back.”
Not fucking happening.
“You think I’m here for the girl?” I spit out. Quinn snorts, his feet beginning to pace the back of the room. “I’m not. I don’t care a damn for the girl.” Bile rises in my throat at the words, eyes hardening to cover the thought because this is all I’ve got to save her and us. “What I do give a fuck for is decency in business, honour amongst thieves.” My fingers work the keys again, opening up the west coast assets. “I’m here to show you we won’t be fucking moved by Yakuza this way—that this is how simple it is for me to defend our position if pushed.” She sits a little straighter, eyes focused back on me rather than Quinn. “And you’re damn well pushing me. You picked the wrong Cane brother to fuck with.”
She sneers and stands, hands planted on the desk in front of her as she calls out something in Japanese. The door bursts inwards, four men clattering into the room, guns aimed. I’ve hit the key the moment they come in, watching as another seventy-three million empties into my control. Mine. Not Cane’s. Not Quinn’s.
Mine.
“That’s one hundred and twenty-five mil so far. How about Northern Asia?” I stand and walk around to her, backing her away from her desk. “I’m guessing you’ve got three times that in that account.” The men move in closer, two of them loitering four feet from my back and the others cornering Quinn. “Or you could just bring the fucking girl in. Show some goddamn respect.” Her eyes finally widen slightly. “Maybe then we can discuss what you think you deserve from us.”
A full minute passes—me not giving her room to breathe, her holding her hand up at the mob behind me waiting to attack. Screw them. I’ll have that gun on the desk in my hand within a second if I have to, pull the trigger if needs be, but that’s not what I want here. I want Gabby alive and out of this place, then Quinn and I with any luck. That’s all. This bluff, regardless of how real it could be, is all I’ve got to ensure that happens. She glances at Quinn out in the corner.
“I could have him killed,” she purrs, attempting to raise her chin at me. I turn back to look at him, the gun in his hand still pointed at the floor as he stares the two men down. “I could have you both killed.”
“You could.” I move in a little closer, letting her get a good smell of just how pissed I am. “Try giving that shit a go.” She shivers as I reach for the laptop again and swing it towards us, empty accounts on show for her to see. “Or you could give me what I want, le
t us out of here, and get your money back. You won’t be getting it back any other fucking way. How’s that gonna land with the hierarchy above you?” This bitch, whoever she is, isn’t top of her tree. She’ll have someone to answer to, and that will be with her life if this doesn’t go as expected. “Your neck feeling fragile, is it?”
I slam the lid down on the burner laptop, all inputs destroyed the moment it closes, and grab my gun to back away until I’m standing in the doorway, head tilted at her. Quinn edges his way towards me. That’s it. I’ll die before I give her those codes, and Quinn doesn’t know them so he’s useless to her for that. Her eyes turn to slits, legs finally weaving their way back to her seat to settle back down.
“Put the money back in the account, Mr Cane,” she says calmly. “I may have misjudged you.”
“The girl? And then you let us out of here. I’ll put it back when we’re gone.” Not before. “I do have respect for business. We talk again after that’s happened. I’m open to negotiation, but not being fucking threatened.”
She nods her head at the man to the side of her. He walks off instantly, barely missing me as he stamps out of the room. Everything is quiet for the time he’s gone, but I can feel the heat coming. Quinn’s pissed, and growing more agitated by the second. I’m barely containing any element of control, and this woman? She’s become a wall of fucking ice, one who isn’t going to deliver a version of Gabby I want to see.
She brings her cigarettes to her side, and then looks me square in the eyes as she stands and walks straight past me into the main warehouse. Quinn follows her before I do, eyes looking at her ass rather than the threat she is to our lives.
“What’s your name?” he asks. She turns back.
“Hisa Yakata. I am the daughter of Yakata-Kai. You will know my grandfather already.” Quinn nods. I couldn’t give a damn. I know the name from the information he sent through, but he seems impressed to a degree. Not enough for that gun to be holstered, though. Or mine. “And I am disappointed.”
A scuffle of noise comes from the top corner, a pained shout following as someone is dragged towards us. My heart lurches, eyes barely wanting to stay open for fear of what I’m about to see, but it’s a man I finally get a glimpse of. He’s being shoved and kicked along the floor, hands crawling the ground to get away from three of them. I frown and look at her, uninterested in whoever the fuck this is.
She walks over to him without a care in the world, stepping around him as he collapses on the floor in front of her. He’s covered in blood, the jacket on his back already ripped and torn, black and blue tracing each hard contour of his face no matter the high-end suit he’s shrouded in.
“This is what we do when we want something, Mr Cane.” Still I stare at her as she reaches for one of her men’s guns, handling it precisely until it’s directed at the guy’s head. I sneer at the thought, not caring. He means nothing to me. “You put our money back, or I will kill your woman’s brother.” I frown as I look at the guy on the floor, unable to see anything of Gabby in him. “And then when I am done with him, I will have my men kill her—slowly. While you watch.” That riles my insides up to fucking explosive. And the groan coming from the brother doesn’t help. She presses the barrel into his head, grinding the metal into blood, and then nods over my shoulder. Quinn turns, ready, and slides his back to me muttering eight under his breath. “And when they have done that, we will pull those codes out of your head with a pair of pliers if necessary.”
I raise a brow at that, watching more Yakuza pour into the room behind her.
Inventive if nothing else.
She’s still not getting the codes. No matter how screwed up this is about to get.
“Fuck, you’re a stupid bitch.” I look high, watching as Den shadows his way along the top overhang of offices, and then glance right, noting the door where Rusty should be by now, listening. “You think you can play this game? In my fucking country? With us?” I laugh, unable to contain the lunacy that’s driving me towards not giving a damn. They come here, infiltrating our investments, then steal my woman and threaten our lives because what? They want a slice of all our hard work?
All my hard work?
That’s not a damned business discussion.
“You’re lacking goddamn honour,” I snarl out, lifting my gun. It’s aimed directly at Andreas’ shoulder, and I’ve pulled the trigger before I’ve thought much more of it, knocking him flat to the ground and hopefully out of harm’s way. “This could have been so much easier than you’re making it.” She scuttles sideways as the crack rings out, language pouring out of her mouth as she raises her gun at me and shouts orders around the room. “All you fucking know is death.” Quinn’s on my back again in seconds, both his arms raised and pointed around the room, and I pray that either Frankie or Jon have already found Gabby, covered her at least.
‘Cause this shit’s about to blow.
Game on.
“Every person in here will die if you don’t bring the goddamn woman to me now.”
She glares and backs a step away, mouth ready to give more fucking orders until I nod above her head. She turns back, eventually looking to where Den’s perched, his favourite AR57 aimed directly at the protective mob closing in on her. Rusty steps into the room, two Berettas pointed at the eight Quinn has covered behind me. “Cane will not be moved like this.”
She smiles eventually, a leer that has my hackles rising, and raises her gun again, all her men moving in front of her the moment she does. Fuck. My back braces against Quinn, eyes focused on every goddamn gun that’s pointed my way as I aim at each one of them, hand steadier than it’s ever been. War’s coming now, and there’s not a fucking hope of stopping it. Fuck them. Cane will not be moved.
Quinn chuckles as the first shot is fired into the air.
I don’t even care who fired it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The sound of a gunshot rings out in the room. It jars me from wherever my mind had taken me. Probably to protect me from all that’s happened.
Andreas. I look around and he’s gone. My eyes don’t miss the man still with me.
The evil one is still in the corner of the room, although he looks worried now. He’s pacing by the door as if he’s waiting for something. There’s no sign of the other one—the one who held me down and choked me until I could barely breathe. All the pain I’ve suffered has built and built over the days until now. It’s such a large part of me, physically and emotionally, that I’m unable to think of anything but the screaming of muscles and crying of my skin.
My lips, cheeks and eyes are swollen so badly I can’t feel my face. Smack after hit after slap. My sight’s only gotten worse since the first instance on the plane. Although, not being able to see what they’ve done to me might be a blessing. My skin is raw and tender, and if there was enough light in the room I know I’d see blood smeared across my thighs. As the thought creeps into my mind, my breathing hitches and tears burn through my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
Nate. What will Nate think? What would he do if he were here?
Another shot echoes in the building, followed by a steady procession of Japanese voices and footfall. The silence that has tortured me is finally broken. The thump on the door makes me jump, and I inch myself back against the wall. The door opens, and several curt words are exchanged. My rapist looks at me, almost longingly, before leaving.
Seeing him leave and hearing a volley of shots ping in the air finally breaks the dam I’ve been so careful to craft into position. It’s too much now. My tears fall—tears because of my brother, for what Nate might think, and tears for me. So many for me.
The salt eats away against my broken skin, adding to my pain, my punishment for letting them fall. I shouldn’t be sitting around. I need to be moving. I need to escape, to find my good-for-nothing brother. Although why I should after how he’s betrayed me is a mystery. After everything, surely now, I must be able to see that he’s no family to me?
; As I orientate myself, I see something I desperately need. A bottle of water left on the table is a prize I can’t give up. First the water. Then escape. I drag myself along the floor with my elbows, my legs still numb from their rough handling, but I need the water more than I care about the pain. My knees bend, and my legs hold as my feet take soft steps on the concrete the rest of the way. It’s the first drink I’ve had in days—or what I assume is days. It couldn’t be less, surely?
The water cools my throat and instantly lessens the pain, but it tastes of copper as I guzzle it down. I leave some and use it to rinse off the blood and semen from between my thighs, needing to rid myself of both. They disgust me, making me unfocused on what I have to get on with. As the water runs down me, I cough back more tears at my own action. I’m still alive. I’m breathing.
Keep moving.
The gun fire remains in the background, but more footsteps head my way. I shrink back into the far corner, hiding in the shadows as best I can.
“Hey, are you Gabby?” A man enters, dark hair and beard disguising much of his face, but his voice sounds warm, if not hassled. I peer out from the shadows, wondering if I should speak or not.
“Why?” I eventually spit out, part of me clinging to the possibility that this might not end badly.
“Good. Come on. Quinn sent me.” He looks back out the door, checking. “My name’s Jon. Come with me.”
The words make sense, but I can’t quite believe them. “Quinn?”
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 24
