Page 18 of The Oyabun's Boy

"You're planning something," he observed, not looking at me, but somehow seeing right through me.

I batted my eyelashes innocently. "Me? Planning? I'm just trying not to get lost in your murder palace."

"Murder palace," he repeated, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "Creative."

"I try."

We reached what appeared to be a command center—a large room with multiple screens displaying security feeds from around the building. Two men stood inside, their postures straightening as we entered.

The first was the same man who had been outside my house—the one Kenji had called Chen. Up close, I could see the subtle differences in his suit from the others—slightly better tailored, with a small pin on his lapel that looked like a stylized lotus.

The second man was broader, older, with dark hair and a beard. He looked like the kind of face that had seen some things, none of them pleasant. His suit was Italian rather than Japanese in cut, and he wore his authority differently—less rigid, more casual, but no less dangerous.

"Joy," Kenji said formally, "this is Chen, my second-in-command."

The first man gave a short bow, his eyes assessing me with clinical precision.

"And this is Vinnie Borelli, head of the Italian family in Manhattan, an ally."

The older man inclined his head, a hint of curiosity in his weathered face. "So this is the one you've been hunting," he said, his voice carrying the faintest trace of an accent. "Interesting choice,Hú."

I wasn't sure if I should be offended or flattered. I settled for awkwardly waving. "Hi! I'm Joy, the hostage! Nice to meet you all!"

Chen's expression didn't change, but Vinnie's eyebrows shot up, and the corner of Kenji's mouth twitched in what might have been an almost-smile.

"You are not a hostage," Kenji corrected, his voice firm, but not angry. "You are under my protection."

His hand settled possessively on my back again, lower this time, his thumb tracing small circles just above the waistband ofmy jeans. Heat spiraled through me, embarrassingly intense. It took every ounce of self-control not to lean into his touch like a cat seeking affection.

"Semantics," I muttered, but my body betrayed me, subtly pressing back against his hand.

I didn't miss the knowing look Vinnie gave Chen or the slight nod Chen returned.

"We'll continue our business discussion tomorrow," Kenji told them, dismissal clear in his tone. "Chen, ensure Ms. Carmichael is comfortable in her quarters. Vinnie, my apologies for the interruption."

"No apology necessary," Vinnie replied with a slight smile. "It's not every day we get to meet someone who calls himself a hostage to your face and lives to tell about it."

"I have my uses," I quipped before thinking better of it.

Three pairs of eyes turned to me with varying degrees of surprise, amusement, and in Kenji's case, something darker and more possessive.

"Indeed you do," Kenji said softly, his fingers flexing against my back.

I swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the heat radiating from his body, the slight spice of his cologne, and the way his proximity made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

This is not attraction. This is Stockholm syndrome… or adrenaline… or temporary insanity. Maybe all of the above.

But even as I thought it, I knew I was lying to myself. Whatever this pull toward Kenji was, it had started before the kidnapping, before the danger. It had started in that alley with a kiss that should have terrified me but instead had awakened something I hadn't known was sleeping.

Vinnie cleared his throat. "I'll take my leave. Kenji, always a pleasure. Joy..." He paused, his eyes twinkling with mischief."Good luck. You're going to need it." With that cryptic remark, he exited, leaving me alone with Kenji and Chen.

"Continue your rounds," Kenji instructed Chen. "I'll show Joy to his quarters."

Chen bowed again, more deeply this time. "As you wish,Oyabun."

As we left the command center, I couldn't help asking, "Oyabun? What does that mean?"

"Boss," Kenji answered simply. "It means boss."