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“The day I blacked out was the last time he whipped me. I worked out, built some muscles, and got stronger to protect myself. But I avoided him as much as I could.”

“And you joined the Navy right out of high school.”

I nodded. “He’d gotten into trouble and then locked up. He reached out to me once to apologize.” My throat tightened. “But words from my father seemed distant after so many years of neglect and pain. I didn’t know what to think or say to him. In a deep part of me, I felt his sincerity. Or maybe it was just my secret wish.”

“He probably sobered up in prison, and he realized what an ass he’d been.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But then a few weeks later, someone found his body in a parking lot. He’d been robbed and shot multiple times. I had decided to leave the Navy because I needed a change. His death hastened my return. While I served in the Navy, I studied wine and statistics, two different subjects. When I got out, I analyzed data for companies while continuing my wine studies.”

She stared at our joined hands. “Because of your father?”

“Partially. I was curious about alcohol and how it could affect a person. But I also wanted to know how it was created. What process did it have to undergo? What uses did it have? Wine is a science and art. I discovered it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault that turned people into monsters. We all have choices. The wine didn’t ask us to overdrink. Anything to the extreme is bad.”

“Like if you had sunny days every day, all the plant life would die. And then animals and humans would follow suit. We need the sunandthe rain, right? Balance. Harmony.”

I smiled at how her mind searched for straightforward answers.

“Alcohol could also be medicine.”

“Yes.” She squeezed my hand. “Three times a week, my dad drinks a small dose of wine his friend ferments to improve his health. It has all kinds of herbal stuff in it. It’s an ancient practice. You know there’s a kung fu style called the drunken fist where you mimic a drunken person’s movement?” She demonstrated by moving her body in slow motion.

I laughed. “Not my preferred style.”

“And did you know that back in the day, the kung fu masters used hand-to-hand touch to transfer good energy into another person’s body for healing purposes?”

Nodding, I lifted our joined hands. “Holding your hand is like having the sun kiss my soul through your palm.” He squeezed. “It’s like a phone line from my heart to yours. We don’t need to say anything. A simple squeeze of your hand tells me what I need to know.”

“And what’s that?”

“That we belong together.”

Her face softened when she looked at our joined hands. “I knew a special man was lurking underneath the expensive suit on that day at the wine convention, but I didn’t know he was also a poet until now.” She caressed my face. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. It means a lot to me.”

I kissed her head. “Thank you for wanting to hear it. Now it’s your turn.”

CHAPTERFORTY-ONE

VIVIAN

I glancedoutside at the beautiful snowstorm keeping me here with him. This forced proximity was something I read in romance novels but never expected to experience. It wasn’t just the storm—it was all the events leading up to this moment.

Did the heavens plan this evening? I couldn’t help but think my mom had something to do with it. Perhaps she was watching over me and guided me to Arrow.

I looked at him, swallowed, and shared my past with him.

Wearing my new yellow shirt and pants, I sit at a table in the Lotus Flower Restaurant, waiting for my mom. She’s in a meeting with Grandpa and the uncles. They’re not my real uncles, but members of The Triad. Mom asked me to address them that way to show respect to the elders. They’re all nice to me because Grandpa is their boss.

I see Calvin sitting at the opposite table, talking with two boys older than him. I only recognize Calvin because his dad works closely with Mom and Grandpa. I don’t know him that well.

A man with a ponytail brings over a plate of dumplings for me. “You can snack on these. Food won’t be served until later.”

“Thank you.” I grab a shrimp dumpling with the chopsticks and pop it into my mouth. The ponytail man also gives Calvin a plate.

None of my school friends know aboutmy family’s ties with The Triad. It’s better that way. My mom is the daughter of a Triad lord, but she’s been out of the crime organization since she married Dad. Mom is now happy working as Dad’s office manager at his dental office.

I don’t like coming to New York, where Grandpa does his business, but today was his restaurant’s grand opening. Mom wants to visit her father and show her support. My dad is at a dental conference, so he can’t make it.

The restaurant workers speak Cantonese as they rush around, ensuring the red tablecloths are perfect with all the plates, cups, chopsticks, and utensils. I can understand Cantonese and Vietnamese because my dad made me go to Vietnamese school. Mom can’t speak it.