Page 10 of The Oyabun's Boy

"Mr. Carmichael," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "My employer would like to speak with you."

He gestured toward the waiting car—a sleek black SUV with tinted windows that reflected the streetlights like a dark mirror. Through the open door, I could make out a familiar silhouette in the shadows of the backseat. The curve of a jaw I'd felt against my lips, the line of shoulders I'd been pressed against.

My heart hammered in my chest, a trapped bird battering against my ribs.

"Your employer has a funny way of scheduling meetings," I said, aiming for sarcasm but landing closer to breathless. "Most people just call."

The man—not a goon, definitely more of a valet or butler or whatever rich dangerous people employed—offered the faintest hint of a smile.

"My employer is not most people."

Ain't that the truth.

"And if I decline the invitation?" I asked, taking a step back.

"Then I will respect your decision and depart," he replied, surprising me. "However, given the current situation, I believe it would be in your best interest to accept."

"What situation?"

As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, keeping one eye on the man and the car as I checked the screen.

A text from Annie:DON'T COME HOME. MEN HERE ASKING ABOUT YOU.

It was all in caps.

My blood turned to ice water. I looked from the phone to the man—Lin, I would later learn was his name—then to the shadowy figure in the car. The mysterious man who'd kissed me, who'd warned me that he was the most dangerous thing in my life.

But maybe not the only dangerous thing.

"What do they want with me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lin's expression remained impassive. "That is a conversation best had with my employer."

I stood frozen on the sidewalk, caught between two terrible choices—the devil I didn't know at home, threatening my mother, or the devil I'd tasted in an alleyway, waiting patiently in a luxury car.

The memory of that kiss flared hot in my chest, warring with the cold fear gripping my spine. I thought of those eyes, dark and hungry, and the way his hand had felt against my throat—not squeezing, just... claiming.

"Fine," I said finally, squaring my shoulders. "Let's talk to your boss."

As I stepped toward the car, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking willingly into a predator's den. But with unknown men at my home and Annie in potential danger, what choice did I have?

The man held the door wider, and I slid into the darkness beside the shadow who had haunted my dreams for the past week.

"Hello, Princess," came that voice, low and smooth as aged whiskey. "I've been looking for you."

Chapter Four

~ Kenji ~

Before I could say anything more, my phone vibrated against my thigh. One glance at the screen and my blood went cold. The surveillance feed from Joy's house showed three men in tactical gear moving through the front door. Another two circled to the back.

Not my men. Which meant only one thing—my uncle had found him first.

"Turn around," I ordered, my voice like ice. "Princess, we have a change of plans."

Joy's eyes widened, confusion written across his features. "What's happening?"

I ignored his question, already speed-dialing Chen. "Code red at the Carmichael residence. Five hostiles, possibly more inside. Full tactical team, now."