Page 47 of The Oyabun's Boy

And despite all logic and reason, despite knowing exactly what kind of man he was and what kinds of things he did in those "business meetings," I found myself nodding.

"Tonight," I agreed, the single word feeling like a contract signed in invisible ink between us.

For better or worse, I was in this now. All the way in.

Chapter Twelve

~ Joy ~

I checked my phone for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour. No messages, no missed calls, and the clock now read 11:47 PM.

Kenji had promised tonight would be ours after his meeting, but as midnight crept closer with no word from him, the knot in my stomach twisted tighter.

Something wasn't right. I could feel it in the way the air seemed too still, in the way Chairman Meow kept pacing alongside me, his tail swishing with nervous energy that matched my own.

"He's fine," I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. "He's literally the most dangerous man in New York City. He's fine."

But the words sounded hollow even to my own ears. I'd been waiting in his quarters for hours, alternating between sitting, standing, and now pacing like a caged tiger.

The bed remained pristine, untouched since morning—a silent reminder of what we'd shared and what was supposed to continue tonight.

I couldn't stay in this room anymore, with its perfect sheets and lingering scent of Kenji's cologne. The walls felt like they were closing in, mocking my growing unease.

"Come on," I said to Chairman Meow, who chirped in response and followed me to the door. "Let's take a walk."

The corridors of Kotei Tower stretched before me like arteries of some massive, sleeping beast. At this hour, they were eerily quiet—the daytime bustle of suited men with concealed weapons replaced by the soft hum of security systems and the occasional distant footfall of night guards.

Chairman Meow trotted alongside me, his little paws making no sound on the plush carpet. Every few steps, he'd look up at me and mew softly, as if asking where his other human was. Or maybe that was just me projecting.

"I don't know where he is either, buddy," I sighed, leaning down to scratch behind his ears.

I pulled out my phone again. 11:52 PM. No messages.

My thumb hovered over Kenji's contact information. I'd already called him seven times in the past hour, each call going straight to voicemail. His voice—cool, controlled, slightly accented—telling me to leave a message had become a taunt rather than a comfort.

I pressed call again anyway.

One ring. Two. Then the familiar click and Kenji's recorded voice. "Leave a message."

"It's me. Again," I said after the beep, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's almost midnight, and I'm getting worried. Just... call me when you get this, okay?"

I hung up, shoving the phone back into my pocket with more force than necessary. The logical part of my brain knew that Kenji was a grown man who ran a criminal empire. He didn't need to check in with me. He wasn't accountable to me.

So why did my chest feel so tight? Why did each passing minute without word feel like a small eternity?

Chairman Meow nudged my ankle, drawing my attention back to the present. I realized I'd stopped walking and was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at nothing.

"Sorry, buddy," I murmured, resuming our walk.

We passed the library—my sanctuary in this fortress of danger—but I didn't go in. I couldn't focus on books right now. Instead, I found myself drawn toward the command center, hoping to find someone, anyone, who might know where Kenji was.

But the room was empty save for a lone guard monitoring security feeds. He straightened when I entered, clearly surprised to see me wandering around alone at this hour.

"Sir?" he asked, voice carefully neutral.

"Have you heard from Kenji? From theOyabun?" I corrected myself, using the title I knew his men preferred.

The guard's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Concern? Suspicion? "No, sir. Not since he left for his meeting this afternoon."