Page 91 of Bitter Prince

No matter. There was no sex going on until after my birthday, which wasn’t for another few days.

I, on the other hand, was ready to jump his bones. I wanted to discover all there was to know, learn how to feel good and make someone else feel good. But only with him.

38

AMON

Hiroshi entered my office at the club with a solemn expression. He’d been my constant shadow—more than usual—for the past few weeks. Dante flicked me a look, and I could’ve sworn he was about to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself at the last second. He wasn’t thrilled with Hiroshi being up our asses at all times. I suspected it was partially to do with my mother and her impatience to get our hands on the document.

The first thing I would do when I got my hands on it would be to read through it. I didn’t understand why my mother was so hell-bent on getting ahold of it. There was more to it than what she’d shared with me.

“I’m surprised to see you here today,” I stated calmly. The old man deserved our respect after all he’d done for my grandfather, my mother, and me. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Italy with Mamma?”

Once a month, Hiroshi and my mother worshiped at kamidana, a household shrine that my mother built in Miramare Castle. They both practiced Shinto, a religion in Japan. They worshiped ancestors and spirits of the old days. It gave them both peace, and for some reason, Father tolerated it.

“Maybe praying wasn’t in the cards today?” Dante snickered. Despite Father dragging us to the odd Sunday mass and insisting we be faithful Catholics, we’d sooner claw our eyes out than sit another hour in church. Confession in those churches was out of the question; Father had them all on his payroll. And making up sins for confession—when you had plenty already—was a major pain in the ass.

“Something came up,” Hiroshi answered, his tone serious. I didn’t have to wait long for him to elaborate as he continued. “I got information that Itsuki is still working with the Brazilian cartel.”

“The Corteses?” I said slowly.

I knew my cousin still fucked around with the Brazilian cartel. Itsuki had even opened lines of communication with Sofia Volkov, which would end up being disastrous for the Yakuza, and there’d be nobody to blame but him. Only two of Itsuki’s goonies knew he’d started an alliance with the madwoman, but a secret like that wouldn’t remain so for very long.

And I’d let him fall on his own sword.

“Yes, with Perez Cortes.” Hiroshi’s tone matched mine as he narrowed his eyes. They drilled into me, burning holes. “You have to keep your cool.”

There was only one thing that made me lose my cool, and that was finding out anyone was fucking with Reina Romero. So that meant that the Cortes cartel was still trying to get their hands on her.

Hiroshi, just like my mother, didn’t like Reina, although he’d never met her. It was her last name alone that caused the tension.

“Tell me everything,” I said coldly.

Hiroshi took a seat across the desk, his expression dark. “According to the intel, Itsuki told them Reina’s off the table, but Cortes is not exactly convinced.”

It would seem Itsuki had some brains left after all.

“How so?” I asked.

“They wanted all the information on her and her location.”

That little fucking—

I offered a cold smile while my insides were fuming. Everyone knew that Perez Cortes was a heartless and cruel motherfucker. He had no qualms selling out his youngest sister. He’d sell his own children—if he had any—to get what he wanted.

“Do we know what he wants with her?” Not that it mattered. He’d never get her. I’d sooner burn his fucking empire to the ground. In fact, this might be a good opportunity to bump up the destruction of his flesh trading business on our list of priorities.

Hiroshi’s look said it all. He either wanted her for himself or for his business. Just like the Belles and Mobsters agreements that Benito King had going on, Perez Cortes had a similar kind of arrangement in South America. The Marabella Mobsters arrangement, except it had nothing to do with flowers or the famous city in Spain.

“Shouldn’t we worry more about getting the document Mamma wants from the safe than Romero’s daughters?”

Hiroshi flicked him an annoyed look. “Yes. And I’m not worrying about Romero’s daughters. Seems to me you two are.”

“So why did you bring up the Corteses and their bullshit with the Yakuza?”

If anyone had a way to increase Hiroshi’s blood pressure, it was my brother. “Because if he grabs the girls, how will you find out where the safe is?” my second-in-command stated in a calm voice with an undercurrent of violence.

It’d occurred to me a few times to let Hiroshi kick Dante’s ass. But entertaining as it’d be to watch, today wasn’t the day for lessons. I needed to touch base with the man I had watching over Reina.