The Devil Inside

by Amano, Mia

  “No.” I’ve never picked up a golf club in my life. “Get to the point, Masa. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Sorry.” The place is noisy, the sound of golf balls being hit peppering the air. It’s a good place to meet. No-one will hear our conversation. Masa leans in close. His voice drops to a low murmur.

  “That trouble you had with Lucini’s boys wasn’t an accident.”

  I raise an eyebrow, waiting for Masa to elaborate.

  “They’re hitting our businesses all over town. They’re agitating us for some reason, trying to expand their turf.”

  “Why now?” I keep my expression blank as Masa’s small entourage checks me out. I know what they’re thinking. They’re wondering who I am, why I’m so tight with their boss. I recognize one of the men from Black Rose. He stares back at me with flat eyes. I glare back, and after a pause, he looks away.

  “There’s a changing of the guard happening. Old man Lucini is doing poorly. Rumours are Lucini’s son has taken over most of the business, and he’s young blood. Ambitious and aggressive. They don’t like the fact that we’ve expanded under right under their noses.”

  “Shouldn’t matter to them. Most of Kuroda’s operations here are partly or completely legit.”

  Masa nods. “True. But they see us doing well, making money, and now we’ve expanded, in partnership with the Koreans and the Chinese. Business isn’t good for the old-fashioned racketeer right now. They feel threatened. They want us out.”

  I watch Masa’s face carefully as I turn the facts over in my head. Something doesn’t add up. “So what do you need me for?”

  “The old man’s son has done something unforgivable. Remember that night you told me to sort out those thugs who had threatened the sushi bar?”

  I nod, watching from the shadows as one of Masa’s underlings takes a sudden interest in a golf club, lifting it out of its bag. He takes a mock swing. I shoot him a disapproving stare.

  These boys, once they come to America, some of them lose discipline.

  Masa continues. “We’ve had reports of this kind of thing happening for a while now. Because you cut off that guy’s finger, I thought things might get ugly. I went to Goto-san for advice.”

  I raise my eyebrows. Kenichi Goto is the head of the Kuroda Group in LA. For Masa to seek his advice means this shit with the Lucini family has gotten serious.

  Beside me, Masa shifts nervously. “Goto-san went to meet old man Lucini to sort the dispute out once and for all, to try and argue some kind of truce. But when he reached the agreed meeting place, the old man was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the son, Vincent, appears and all but tells him to get fucked. Of course, if you know Goto-san, he’s cold as ice and doesn’t give anything away, but inside, he would have been ready to tear the prick a new asshole.”

  “Yeah?” I shake my head. “But this ain’t Tokyo.”

  “I hear you. It gets worse. So that guy whose finger you amputated? That’s Angelo Gallo, Vincent Lucini’s cousin. Lucini junior took it real personal. Told Goto he would only stop fucking with Kuroda’s operations if Goto gave him his a finger in return. Of course, Goto refused. Vincent made him do it anyway. With a gun to the head.”

  “You’re kidding.” I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. A high-ranking Kuroda-kai member like Goto losing a finger because of a gai-jin? It’s unthinkable. And somehow, it’s tied to me. Fuck.

  “You know Goto is married to one of the kumicho’s sisters, right?”

  “Right.” No, I did’t know that Kenichi Goto had gotten himself hitched to one of Ishida-san’s sisters. Double fuck.

  “Erika Goto flew back into LA yesterday. She’s aware of your reputation, aniki. And she wants to talk to you.”

  Kaito

  I ride with Masa in an Escalade with windows tinted so dark you can’t see inside. Two of his boys are in front, the other two follow behind us in a black BMW. We end up somewhere around Newport Beach, navigating quiet, suburban streets. The houses become bigger and bigger, and all of a sudden we’re turning. An electric gate rolls back, revealing a long, stone driveway lined with tall palms. I can hear the familiar rhythm of the ocean. In the midday sun, the air is warm and thick, laced with brine.

  We roll up to a low set house, all sweeping, minimalist white curves. The cavernous entrance is lined with solid glass, stretching from floor to ceiling. Masa and I get out. He tells his men to stay with the car.

  We’re met at the door by a quiet man in black who greets us formally and leads us through the house on silent feet. He moves with graceful economy, this one. He moves like a killer.

  Takes one to know one.

  We pass through a cool, tiled living space. The bleak, white walls hold dramatic, abstract paintings. Striking potted plants rise above pristine, white couches that look like they’ve never been touched. Through the endless expanse of glass on the other side, I can seen an infinity pool, stretching out to the blue ocean beyond. For a moment, all I see is an illusion, an endless joining of pool, sea and sky.

  I put on my shades as we walk outside, into the sunshine.

  At the far end of the pool are a set of lounges. A woman stands. She’s wearing a long, flowing, white halter dress. A wide hat casts shadow across her face, her eyes hidden by a pair of large, black sunglasses. As she turns, I see a sinuous dragon rippling across her back, as if alive.

  There’s no doubt that this is the boss’s sister, Erika Goto, formerly Ishida.

  She smiles as we come closer, baring perfect, white teeth. I stop and bow in response.

  “Araki-san. That’s the name you’re using now, isn’t it?” She gestures for me to sit beside her, on a low pool lounge. She speaks in Japanese. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She turns to Masa. “Thank you for bringing him. Please, go help yourself to refreshments.”

  Masa bows and disappears, leaving me alone with the tigress.

  I wait for Erika to sit, lowering myself slowly onto the pool lounge only when she’s comfortable.

  “The ocean breeze is refreshing, isn’t it, Araki-san? I hate Tokyo at this time of year. The humidity is overpowering.”

  “Yes.” I stare out across the Pacific Ocean. It’s an endless plain of blue, shimmering under the midday sun.

  Erika turns to face me, her expression inscrutable behind the dark shades. “I remember you, Kaito, now called Araki. Such a scary young man. You had so much anger. Though my brother saw a lot of promise in you. The fact that you’re still alive tells me a lot.” She pauses, staring out towards the ocean. Her voice becomes soft. “We’re all survivors in our own way, Araki-san.”

  I’m quiet. It’s warm, but a gentle breeze caresses us. I feel as if I could sit here forever, suspended above infinity.

  “It’s nice isn’t it, this city? In some ways, it gives the illusion of a perfect life, if one has enough money. Has your life been good these past few years?”

  I hesitate, thinking back on my life here. Working an almost normal job with regular hours, away from the violence, a different person. A different life. “It’s been fine, Onee-san.” I refer to her as big sister. As the sister of Kuroda’s kumicho, I have to address her with respect. Erika wields big influence within the organization. Some say she’s the real power in the Kuroda-kai.

  I’m not being truthful with her. My life has not been fine. It’s been uncomplicated, unremarkable. Solitary.

  Fucking boring.

  Until I meet a girl, and suddenly my existence over the past three years seems as bland as mush.

  And now, the undertow is calling me back in, sweeping me into its dark, turbulent depths.

  This is going to fuck everything up.

  “What you did to that gai-jin was impulsive. We don’t usually extend traditional forms of punishment to outsiders.”

  I nod. It was a rare flash of anger. I don’t get angry often, but when I do, my temper is hard to control. It’s a weakness of mine. I know why I reacted that way. It was the racial taunts, the disrespect. It was years
of hiding my true nature, pretending to be meek and polite. But most importantly, it was the way he touched Adele. Already, I had unknowingly marked her as mine. Something inside me snapped.

  I wanted to make a statement.

  I needed to exert my dominance.

  It’s that dark, hidden part of me.

  Who the fuck told Erika Goto about that incident?

  Erika’s pink lips curve into a sliver of a smile. “Normally, I wouldn’t disapprove. But every action has a consequence, and now my husband is missing yet another finger.” Her voice is cold and hard. “He doesn’t know the one who caused all this trouble is you. And I won’t tell him, because he’ll ask for more than your finger in exchange. And that would be such a waste of potential. My big brother wouldn’t be happy about that. He’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

  I remain still as Erika stands and moves behind me, placing her slender, manicured hands on my shoulders. She kneads my tense muscles, slowly, gently. “I’m giving you the chance to make this right. These Lucini people think they can push us back. It’s time to send them a message, the kind that you deliver so well. I want them to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they can’t fuck with the Kuroda-kai.” She leans down and whispers into my ear, her soft, jasmine fragrance surrounding me. “I want Vincent Lucini dead. It’s time for you to come out of the shadows, Kaito.”

  Adele

  When I arrive for work at Black Rose in the evening, the place is packed. I called the sushi bar, telling the manager, Eiji, that I was sick. That I’d probably need the rest of the week off. He sounded sympathetic, and said he hoped I’d get better soon. I felt a little bad about lying, but there’s no other way to do this.

  The crowd tonight seems different, somehow. The booths and tables are occupied by menacing looking bodyguard types in dark suits. I search around the room for Kaito, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

  The corner table we sat at last night is occupied by a different group of guys.

  They’re playing some kind of Japanese pop music, but the atmosphere seems heavy. I inhale the thick scent of cigarette smoke.

  Mama-san appears beside me. Something’s got her on edge. I can tell by the way she’s looking around the room, her eyes darting back and forth. “Busy night tonight, Adele. I need to warn you. These men don’t like assertive women.”

  “Huh?” Her warning annoys me. “You want me to pretend to be arm candy and stroke their egos?”

  “Men part with their money more easily when they’re feeling in control.” Mama-san looks me up and down. I’m wearing all black tonight; black cropped cigarette pants, a black strapless top and a fitted black leather biker jacket. I’ve topped it off with gold; I’ve got large faux amber and gold stud earrings and a chunky gold necklace. Black heels, studded with metallic spikes, finish off the outfit. Mama-san raises one eyebrow. “Not exactly a demure princess, are you, Adele?”

  I sigh. Secretly, I’ve dressed for Kaito, not any of these men. I had a feeling he might like my outfit. “It’s not really my style, Mama-san. But if it’s good for business, I’ll be that princess for you, just for tonight.”

  Mama-san narrows her eyes. Her voice drops to a whisper. “That man from last night, you left with him, didn’t you?”

  I throw her a sidelong glance. “That was personal,” I murmur. “Nothing to do with with work.”

  “It’s not a good idea to mix business and pleasure,” Mama-san warns. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into with that one?”

  “I have no idea,” I shrug, putting on a mock-innocent expression. “But that’s part of the excitement, isn’t it?”

  Mama-san shakes her head. “Oh Adele,” she sighs. “You almost make me remember what it was like to be young and foolish. Let me just tell you that these men,” she glances pointedly around the room, “are not long-term relationship material, if that’s what you’re looking for. And that handsome specimen you took home last night is one of them, no matter what he tells you.”

  “You’re the second person who’s told me that today.” I roll my eyes. But I’m able to admit to myself, deep down, that she’s probably right.

  As I look up, I notice a man staring at me. He’s tall and fine featured, almost effeminate, but his eyes are anything but gentle. I glare back as his dark gaze roams up and down my body. I shift uncomfortably on my feet. Unlike the way I felt with Kaito, this man makes me feel violated when he looks at me. His expression is brutal. I get the feeling this one would use me, eat me up and spit me out if he got the chance. He smiles. What is it with this guy?

  “I’m just speaking from experience.” Mama-san nods, dipping her head in a small, assenting bow as the man across the room points and gestures for me to come over. I look back at her, but she shakes her head, her expression hard. “Looks like you’ve caught his attention. Behave with this one, Adele. He’s got a short temper. And, he’s the manager.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” I walk over to the table in the far corner, hiding my sudden unease. A wide grin crosses the man’s face, but it never reaches his eyes. He’s flanked by two big guys. They’re all wearing sharply tailored suits. As I reach the table, the man puts a cigarette in his mouth. One of his pals lights it, cupping the flame, his body language deferent. How strange.

  “Hi.” I force a smile onto my face. Taking Mama-san’s warning at face value, I don’t do anything as reckless as stealing this guy’s cigarette. After all, I don’t know the guy. I cringe inwardly as I inhale the acrid tobacco smoke.

  I really, really hate cigarettes.

  One of the pals moves aside, making room for me beside the manager. He grins. “Good evening. Please, sit down.”

  I slide into the velvet lounge. The manager gives me an appraising look. “I haven’t seen you here before. You new here?”

  I nod, returning his scrutiny. This guy reminds me of a sleek, predatory cat. He’s got delicate features and red-tinted hair that he wears longish, framing his pale face. His dark eyes are cold and calculating.

  Suddenly, he laughs. “You’re a unique one.” His accent is similar to Kaito’s. “Why haven’t I heard of you before?”

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” I response to his mocking laugh with a hard smile of my own. “I’m Adele.” I offer him my hand. I’ve painted my nails black, to match the outfit.

  He takes my hand in his own. His palms are cool and smooth. No missing fingers, thank God. “Masahiro. You can call me Masa.” He nods towards his pals. “That’s Eiji and Kevin.”

  “Hi.” I extend the smile to the manager’s pals. They nod back, but both wear bored expressions. Masa says something to them in Japanese, and suddenly they’re calling girls over to keep them company.

  “So. Adele. You’re new here. Mama-san has a good eye for girls, but as the manager, I’m supposed to orientate my staff. So you’ll keep me company tonight. I want to see what you’ve learnt so far. In the looks department, you pass, but conversation is a fine art. You need to make them want you, without coming off as easy. The trick is to get them coming back, chasing after something they can see and touch, but never really have.”

  “Of course.” I keep my tone pleasant, a wide smile plastered on my face, but inside, my heart sinks. What the hell is he going on about? And it doesn’t look like I’m going to make any money from this guy, especially if he’s the manager. That means this will be a wasted night. Shit. The deadline to pay off Gavin’s debt is in less than a week. I push the anxious thoughts to the side. No time to worry about that now. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Orange juice.” Masa moves his chair closer to mine, so our knees are touching. My surprise must be showing, because he rolls his eyes. “I don’t drink alcohol. I’m the type that easily gets addicted to things. It’s a weakness of mine. Drugs, alcohol, violence, sex. You should be kind to your liver, too. When you’re with clients, we can give you watered down drinks. Doing this kind of thing night after night takes its toll.”
<
br />   Masa’s long, slender fingers rest on my knee. I fight the urge to remove them. He starts stroking my leg. “Alcohol and heroin are the devil. I don’t touch the stuff. Sex, on the other hand, that’s fucking heaven, isn’t it?”

  I’m frozen in my chair. I can’t help but glance over to the entrance. Where the hell is Kaito? This guy is giving me the creeps.

  “You expecting someone?” Masa notices the direction of my look.

  “Actually, I am.” My fingers twitch. I’m just dying to grab Masa’s offending hand and twist his narrow, girly wrist. “He’s a lucrative customer for your business. Last night we shared a bottle of Ethereal Beauty.”

  Masa laughs. “Well done. You make it sound so sensuous.”

  An amused snort escapes me. He’s right. We definitely shared more than that.

  “So, Adele, what are you going to share with me tonight?” Masa’s hand has reached the top of my thigh. He slides his thumb in down near my pussy. I shift uncomfortably. Is this guy for real? It’s time to put my foot down. I don’t care if this guy is the manager or even the fucking president. This wasn’t in my job description.

  “Excuse me?” I give him a long, pointed stare. “What are you suggesting?”

  Masa looks at me like I’m stupid. “I’ll ask you this one more time. Think of it as the final part of your job interview.” He leans down, his breath whispering across my ear. “What are you going to share with me?” Masa traces his finger down my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  I grab his offending hand, pulling it away from my face. “I don’t think my boyfriend is going to approve of this. So I can share a drink and we can have a conversation, but that’s about it.”

  “Your boyfriend?” A mocking laugh escapes Masa. “What kind of useless fuck lets his girl work in a hostess bar?”

  My anger rises. Okay, so I’m not sure whether Kaito’s technically my boyfriend yet, but this guy is insulting him, and I can’t let that slide. “Maybe I’m working here of my own free will, and maybe he’s okay with that because he’s not a controlling, insecure asshole who takes advantage of women.”