Han scraped a hand over his face, dispelling the memory before it could fully play out. But it lingered as he made his way out to the penthouse's lanai, like a bloodstain that even bleach couldn't lift.
Yes, he needed to get back to Rhode Island.
Instead of going to bed as he so often did just a few hours before sunrise, he found himself staring at the ocean, even though it was still too dark to see it.
The manager of the building had bragged about its proximity being one of the apartment's best features. But with the hours Han kept sleeping from dawn to late afternoon, he rarely took the time to enjoy the view.
How's your girlfriend?
The question floated back into his mind as he listened to the ocean, unsettling him in more ways than one. He didn't like that Kuang Jr. had asked him that question every single time they'd run into each other since Han's ill-advised rescue of his little surfer girl. And he really didn't like that he didn't like it.
Or that he'd started referring to her privately as his little surfer girl.
Or that he couldn't stop thinking about her, even though it had been over two weeks since he'd met her for the first and last time. He'd forgotten much more beautiful and charming women in less than two minutes.
Alright, that was a lie. Two actually. And he also hated that.
He hated that he couldn't come up with even one woman's face he could honestly say he liked more than hers. He hated that even though he kept telling himself that first time was the last time, he'd texted, "you belong to me for two years," when he should have let her go.
And he really hated that he'd been tempted to call her in for a surf lesson more than once, especially in quiet moments like these when he somehow wanted to be alone but also didn't want to be alone.
That was most likely the problem, he decided as he turned away from the crashing ocean. He'd been spending too much time alone. Time to put in an appearance at Aloha Ballers, remind K Diamond and whoever else might happen to be there who the bigger boss was.
Another idea occurred to him then, a way to stop obsessing over the surfer girl who'd managed to worm her way into too many of his waking thoughts—and a few of his dreams.
He was going to seduce and fuck her out of his system. And the idea, if executed properly, would also crush K Diamond's ego a little further while ensuring she would never fall prey to any of the predators at Aloha Ballers again.
With a devious smile, Han pulled out his phone and sent his little surfer girl a text.
7
HAN
If Yaron was surprised to be called back to his building just a few minutes after he left, he didn’t show it. Another reason Han preferred him as a driver.
It didn’t take long to get to the gentlemen’s club where Han had set up his temporary office. Hawaii could be a surprisingly quiet place after midnight, so the roads were mostly empty.
But as calm as it was outside, Aloha Ballers was in full party mode when Han arrived with Yaron trailing behind him. The club was packed with tourists, locals, and even a few celebrities.
When he made his way toward the club's back, Han also found a few of his men hanging out in the bar area. No surprise there. He’d brought eight of them down with him, but they were primarily for face and show since Han was handling the majority of the mission himself. When they weren’t flanking him, they had very little to do, so wiling away their time at Aloha Ballers had become their new M.O.
They all stood and greeted him with loud cheer in Cantonese when he came into the bar area. And without Han even having to ask, a stemmed shot glass of clear liquor found its way into his hand.
Han knew it was a baijiu by the design of the glass, and he was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar taste after toasting his arrival with his men and throwing it back. It wasn’t just any old baijiu, but specifically V.I.P. Bai 3, the high-end baijiu company The Silent Triad had purchased a few years back.
“Did you bring a bottle with you?” he asked Chen, The Silent Triad member who had handed it to him.
“Wish I had thought of that,” Chen answered. “The bartender charged us triple the retail. Said that’s policy. Kuang Jr. doesn’t even give his own guys a discount.”
Han glanced at Kuang Jr., who was snorting lines of coke with a couple of dancers over at the bar. Apparently, the 24K Dragon son didn’t believe in showing his father’s most valued business partner hospitality or in not doing drugs out in public where any undercover cop could walk in and see.
Yet the snakehead continued to wonder why his Dragon father had sent someone else in to take care of business.
Han made a mental note to have eight crates of baijiu flown out, one for each of his Silent Triad men. Unlike K Diamond, he liked to keep his men happy and satisfied, and it wasn’t their fault they’d been sent down here to cool their heels.
“Han Zhiwei? Is that you?” a voice asked in Cantonese.
The sound of his full name made Han turn out of his conversation with Chen. And he grinned when he found a former Red Diamond he and Victor had partied with a few times in Hong Kong before their original triad dissolved.
“Lam Yibo! What are you doing here?”
His friend from long-ago held up a joint. “Come smoke this with me, and I’ll tell you.”
The answer to Han’s question turned out to be more complicated than expected. After finding a relatively quiet corner in one of the unoccupied curtained-off champagne rooms, Lam reintroduced himself as a snakehead for the Golden Triangle. Han was familiar with the gang. Like the 24K, they’d decamped from China in the late 90s after the handover.
From what Han had gleaned, they operated out of Taiwan now and had also set up a couple of offshoots in San Francisco and LA. At the behest of the Golden Triangle Dragon, Lam had come to Hawaii a few days ago, hoping to score a steady stream of Hawaiian marijuana to sell to their more discriminating clientele and maybe start distributing it in their Asian markets.
Lam lit the joint and passed it to Han after taking a toke himself. Some might have thought it rude to partake before the person he invited to smoke out. But in their world, this simply proved that the weed he offered carried no danger.
Han took a pull but grimaced, nonetheless. No, the weed wasn’t poison, but it tasted dirty and full of seeds. It was no better than the low-quality pot that circulated through much of China.
“Finding quality weed is proving harder than predicted,” Lam explained with an apologetic look when Han quickly handed him back the joint and took the bottle of champagne straight to the head to wash the taste from his mouth.
“Yes, I know several people in Hawaii who can do much better than this,” Han assured him after setting the bottle back down. “Where did you get this stuff?”
A shadow crossed over Lam’s face. “From K Diamond.”
This time Han schooled his face to prevent himself from grimacing again. It was one thing to dislike Kuang Jr., it was another to disparage the son of a valued business partner in front of another snakehead.
Lam kept going, nonetheless, and he watched Han carefully as he told him, “He’s trying to get me to buy a half-ton of this shit. He probably didn’t expect me to test it out first since he was personally recommended to me by your brother.”
“Victor sent you to Kuang’s son?” Han asked, finding that hard to believe.
Pot wasn’t a product The Silent Triad bothered with since the profit margins tended to shrink with every state that legalized it. And even if it was, Han very much doubted Victor would have recommended Kuang Jr. to any of their contacts.
“Sorry, not Zhang Victor,” Lam said with a shake of his head. “I forgot you two call each other brother. Your other brother, Delun—your brother by birth—suggested K Diamond. He’s a snakehead for the Golden Triangle now, too, you know. Out of San Francisco. That’s why I thought maybe he’d have a good connection down here.”
Han’s blood froze, the bony fingers of memory creeping up his spine. He hadn’t thought o
f his half-brother in years. Had never bothered to wonder what had happened to his father’s older son—the legitimate one who had gotten all the privileges Han had been denied.
It struck Han as somewhat apropos that he now belonged to a gang called the Golden Triangle. Growing up, Han had thought of him as the Golden Son. However, he couldn’t say he appreciated the update from Lam.
But he was a Dragon, and Dragon’s rarely showed what they were truly thinking. He pasted on a smile for Lam and said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for here. If you’ll excuse me, I’m due to meet someone.”
He started to get up, but Lam placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to go back to Taiwan empty-handed. Maybe you could help me with K Diamond, make sure he sells me only quality stuff—or maybe point me in the direction of another connection?”
Before Han could answer, the room’s gauzy curtain opened with a loud scrape, revealing Kuang Jr. himself on the other side.
“Good, you two aren’t kissing in here. I was afraid of that.”
Han didn’t bother to give Kuang Jr. the satisfaction of seeing his irritation. Instead, he just asked, “How may I help you?” in a tone that was only technically polite.
Kuang Jr. cast a suspicious gaze between Han and Lam before saying, “Your new girlfriend’s out there looking for you. Want me to keep her company while you finish up your little conversation?”
Another wave of irritation rolled through Han. But this was why he’d invited Jasmine here in the first place, wasn’t it? To re-establish their link in front of Kuang Jr. and his crew. To remind the snakehead and anyone else who might want her that she still belonged to a Dragon.
Han had hoped a few weeks would make Kuang Jr. forget about Jasmine. After all, he had his pick of onsite beauties ready and willing to keep him company.
Then again, maybe that was why the snakehead kept bringing up Jasmine. He wasn't used to being usurped, and he'd almost had her in his clutches when Han snatched her away.
Han almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“I must go,” he said to Lam with a respectful head bow. Then just to annoy Kuang Jr., he added, “We can continue this conversation later.”
Lam glanced at Kuang Jr. and nodded. “Yes. Good to see you again.”
Han gave him another bow, committing to the illusion that he felt the same way, even if the mention of his half-brother had been most unwelcome.
Back in the hallway, Kuang Jr. fell into step beside him.
“What were you talking about with my contact?” he demanded in English. Most likely suspecting correctly that Lam’s English wasn’t good enough to make out what he was saying over the loud music pumping overhead.
“He’s an old friend. We were catching up,” Han answered. He made sure to keep his voice neutral. “You should make sure to give him your highest quality product.”
“Those Taiwan triads don’t know good weed from skunk,” Kuang Jr. answered with a dismissive snort. “They’re lucky I sell to them at all. I got clients up and down the west coast willing to pay top price.”
“Still?” Han asked. “Even after legalization?”
He must have hit a nerve. Kuang Jr. flinched. “Don’t matter. Hawaii weed has a good reputation, brah. It’s always going to get top price.”
“Yes, it does have a good reputation,” Han agreed. “One you’ll ruin if you sell your overseas clients low-quality product.”
Kuang Jr. stopped walking. “Did he say something to you about the weed I gave him? I was just testing him out.”
Han also stopped. “I have no hand in your business, so I will simply give you some advice.”
Kuang Jr.’s face took on a petulant cast. “I don’t need your advice—”
“Treat your legitimate partners nice. And treat your criminal partners even nicer,” Han advised. He clapped Kuang Jr. on the shoulder. “Nobody wants to risk their life and jail time for shitty product.”
Han didn’t bother to wait for Kuang Jr.’s reply. His little surfer girl was waiting.
However, he didn’t find Jasmine when he returned to the bar area.
“If you’re looking for your girl, she said she’d wait for you in the parking lot,” Chen came over to tell him.
Your girl.
Han added that he didn’t entirely hate hearing her referenced as his, to his ever-growing dislike list.
“Thanks,” Han replied, nonetheless.
That should have been it, but suddenly Kuang Jr. reappeared beside him. “I’ll walk outside with you. Say hi.”
Han kept his expression neutral. The whole point of this exercise was to remind Kuang Jr. that Jasmine was his and therefore off-limits after all.
But every instinct inside of him protested the shorter man going outside with him. He didn't want Kuang Jr. talking to her. He didn't even want him looking at her.
However, that was exactly what they both ended up doing when they found Jasmine in the parking lot, adjusting the surfboards balancing on top of an old Jeep Wrangler. She was a vision of sporty femininity in the early morning sun. Surfer shorts framed her strong trim legs and firmly rounded butt. And the profile of her pretty face radiated health and beauty underneath the early morning sun.
His breath caught, wanting to kiss her. Not just for claim, but because he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Damn, look at that ass!” Kuang Jr. exclaimed in English beside Han. “Maybe she was worth all that money. I bet you’re hitting that every night.
Jasmine stilled. She’d definitely overheard Kuang Jr.’s words.
Han could only hope that she was smart enough not to let Kuang Jr. know that they hadn’t touched each other since the show they put on for him.
Actually, Jasmine turned around and did him one better.
“You ready for your surf lesson?” she asked Han as if she didn’t notice and couldn’t even see Kuang Jr. standing there.
Han could practically feel the snakehead fuming. This was another thing Kuang Jr. wasn't used to with this deliberately loud and flashy wardrobe. Getting ignored.
But the snakehead’s obvious anger suddenly cleared.
“You going to teach Han to surf?” he asked with a glance up toward the boards strapped to the roof of her Jeep Wrangler. The thing was ancient—at least fifteen—possibly twenty years old.
A flash of confusion passed over Jasmine's face, which reminded Han that he never gave her his name.
But her puzzled look disappeared quickly.
“Ready to go, Han?” she asked. “I'll drive since I have the surfboards.”
“You've got five boards up there,” Kuang Jr. observed. “You expecting somebody else?”
Finally, Jasmine gave the snakehead the courtesy of her acknowledgment. But her tone became tight as if she was gritting her back teeth while telling him, “No, I always carry a bunch of boards. Sometimes whole families want to learn.”
“So that’s what you do for a living? Teach people how to surf?” Kuang Jr. asked, dropping some of the smarm. “I see you. That’s real fucking cool, girl.”
Jasmine hesitated and glanced at Han. Perhaps she sensed that she was walking along a dangerous line of conversation with a complimentary Kuang Jr. If so, she was correct to worry about sharing too much. The less he knew about her, the better. But at the same time, he could become a real pain in her ass if she dared to insult him again.
Han watched her, strangely curious to see how she would handle Kuang Jr.’s scrutiny.
“Yes, but this is a private lesson,” she answered, her voice smoother and more professional than he would have given her credit for after watching her punch Kuang Jr.
Good answer. Han made a mental note to congratulate her for her quick thinking when they were alone.
But then Kuang Jr. said, “Okay, in that case, I'll come along too. I know my boy, Han, won't mind, right?”
He held out his fist to Han for an American-style dap.
And Han
inwardly cursed. Yes, Kuang Jr. was craftier than perhaps even his father suspected. The snakehead had put Han in the position of giving him what he wanted or saying no to him joining them—which would be considered a grave insult in their triad world. The perfect offense to report to his Dragon Daddy, and then Han would have a situation on his hands.
Gritting his teeth, Han gave in with a slight nod. Then ignored Jasmine’s questioning look as they all climbed into the car.
8
JAZZ
Teaching Han and K Diamond to surf didn’t go as bad as I thought it would. Han was a natural, and K Diamond mostly fell into the water.
Usually, I had a policy about making sure all my first-time students managed to catch at least a couple of waves, whether they were paying me or not. However, in K Diamond’s case—well, actually, I stuck to that policy. But I had a whole lot of fun watching him tumble off his board for longer than I normally would have before I interceded. I took him back to shore, drew a surfboard in the sand, and worked with him on nailing his pop-up and immediately finding his center of gravity.
And as much as I disliked him, I cheered when he finally managed to catch a wave and stay on it until he was ready to hop off close to shore.
After that, I left him to it and paddled farther out to progress Han on the bigger waves.
Those were a lot more challenging for him. But he stuck with it, paddling out again and again until he finally managed to catch a bigger wave and stay on it.
I cheered for him too. But it wasn’t necessarily out of teacherly obligation. A lot of being a surf teacher is encouraging first-timers not to give up. So the students who stuck with it and leveled up their skills without me having to aggressively inspire them to work for the entire time we’ve allotted always struck me as impressive.
HAN: Her Ruthless Mistake: 50 Loving States, Delaware (Ruthless Triad Book 4) Page 5
