Page 64 of The Oyabun's Boy

Every movement was deliberate, a ritual I'd performed countless times before violence. The routine centered me, cleared the unnecessary noise. Each breath measured, each adjustment precise.

Chen had confirmed the location. All five families would witness what happened when someone touched what was mine. The thought of my uncle on his knees, waiting for my judgment, sent a flicker of satisfaction through my veins.

Poetic, that his life would end in the same warehouse where he'd tried to take mine.

"You're not seriously wearing Armani to a murder, are you?"

Joy's voice shattered my concentration. I didn't turn, watching him in the mirror instead. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, hair slightly tousled in that way that always made my fingers itch to grab it.

"It's not murder," I corrected, adjusting my tie. "It's justice."

"Semantics." He stepped into the room, his reflection moving closer to mine. "You're executing your uncle in front of thefive families. Pretty sure that qualifies as murder in most jurisdictions."

I turned to face him, taking in his jeans and simple black button-down. At least he wasn't wearing one of those ridiculous graphic t-shirts.

"This doesn't concern you," I said flatly.

His eyebrow arched in that particularly irritating way that always preceded an argument I wouldn't win. "Doesn't concern me? I ran your empire for a month while you were in a coma. I found your uncle. I arranged this whole thing. But sure, it doesn't concern me."

"Your involvement ends here."

"No." The single word hung between us, defiant and absolute.

"You're not coming," I stated, voice dropping to the register that made hardened killers step back.

Joy stepped forward instead. "Watch me."

Those impossible green eyes flashed with challenge, holding my gaze without flinching. Any other person who defied me this way would be bleeding on the floor by now.

Yet here was Joy, five-foot-six of stubborn defiance, glaring at me like I was the unreasonable one.

"This isn't a discussion," I said, checking the knife concealed at my ankle. "You will stay here where it's safe."

Joy let out a laugh that held no humor. "Safe? There's no such thing in your world. I learned that while you were busy being unconscious. Besides, I've earned the right to see this through."

"You've seen enough violence." The memory of his expression when I'd returned, broken and bleeding, flashed through my mind. The haunted look in his eyes that hadn't entirely faded. "This will be... messy."

"I've seen messy before." His voice softened slightly. "Your blood on my hands, remember? I can handle it."

I moved closer, deliberately using my height advantage to loom over him. "You don't need to be there."

"No, but you need me there." He reached up, straightening my tie unnecessarily. His fingers lingered at my collar, a casual intimacy that still startled me. "Admit it."

"What I need is to know you're safe." The truth slipped out before I could stop it.

"And what I need is to see the man who almost took you from me get exactly what he deserves." His voice hardened, that new edge I was still getting used to sharpening his words. "I've earned that much."

I gripped his wrist, pulling his hand away from my tie. "I could lock you in this room."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Kinky. We'll discuss that when we get home. We need to deal with this moron first."

Heat shot through my body despite my irritation. This impossible man. This defiant, fearless, infuriating man who spoke to me as if I weren't capable of ending lives with my bare hands.

"You test the limits of my patience," I growled, tightening my grip on his wrist.

"Lucky for me, you seem to have an endless supply where I'm concerned." He leaned closer, unintimidated. "I'm coming, Kenji, either with your blessing or despite your objection. Your choice."

The stubborn set of his jaw told me everything I needed to know. He would follow me even if I ordered Chen to restrain him. He would find a way—he always did.