Page 105 of Wrathful King

“Aren’t you bright?” Hiroshi snickered while his mother looked slightly confused. “It was the only reason I stayed around. For that document, and to take over the Yakuza one day. Tomaso should have never been allowed to marry her anyhow.”

Overconfidence. It was his downfall.

“When did Ojisan create that document?” Amon asked.

“Fuck you,” Hiroshi spat.

Amon didn’t waste any time. He pulled the trigger and shot him in the other foot. His scream filled the space. “When?” Amon repeated.

“It’s been in place for generations. After Hana married Romero, he added a clause stating only a Japanese man could take over. It was to eliminate the threat of outsiders.”

“Why give it to Romero?” Amon’s confusion was rightly placed. It made no sense to give it to him considering it wouldn’t apply to him in any scenario.

“He gave him a copy of the old version.” Hiroshi coughed, growing weaker as blood seeped out onto the floor. “That copy would have allowed any husband of Hana’s to take over. It was better than no copy at all.”

It was information overload. Hiroshi had been scheming this for at least a decade.

“Amon, you know Hiroshi could never become the head of the Yakuza,” Hana reasoned softly. “I’m still married to Romero.”

Amon smiled. “You sure are.” My husband’s dark gaze landed on Hiroshi, promising painful retribution. “You missed a little detail, Hiroshi.”

Hiroshi shook his head. “I saw the annulment document.”

Amon snickered. “What? My mother didn’t tell you she put a hit on the attorney before he could process the annulment? She falsified the documents. They were never filed with the courts.”

Hiroshi’s darkened expression shifted to Hana. “Is that true?” he growled, but she ignored him. He gripped her forearm, shaking her like a rag doll. “Is it true?”

“Yes. My marriage to Romero was never dissolved.” That drew a growl from Hiroshi, then he bellowed, spitting words in Japanese. “I needed your help with Perez. I couldn’t risk him coming for Dante again.”

Wait… did she say “again”?

“What the fuck have you done?” Hiroshi hissed, mouth twisted in an ugly grimace.

“We’ve been together for years,” she reasoned. “I saw no reason to change anything. You were never supposed to find out that I was still married to Tomaso. It shouldn’t have mattered.”

“Except for the Yakuza empire and that little clause,” Amon snarled.

Her attention was on her son. “You’re the head of the Yakuza. The seat at the Omertà table is at your fingertips. I’m so proud.” Her voice sounded raw as she choked on her tears. “None of it matters.”

“You fucking bitch,” Hiroshi spat.

“Watch it,” Amon warned. “She’s still my mother.”

“I needed your help, Hiroshi,” she continued, crimson embarrassment staining her cheeks. “To line up an exchange with Perez Cortes and coordinate with Itsuki. You kept insisting on marriage, so I went along with it.”

“Hiroshi wanted to marry you to ensure his place in the Yakuza, because Ojisan had a clause stipulating that yourhusbandwould become the head of the Yakuza in the event the Takahashi line didn’t have an heir. Hiroshi ensured my elimination.”

My lips trembled at the thought that Hiroshi almost succeeded. No wonder they kept putting bullets into Amon’s body.

“How could you?” I rasped, my vision blurring with the images of Amon bleeding out on the gravel.

She ignored me, her eyes locked on her son.

“I would have never knowingly risked your life,musuko. I thought you’d be safe. I swear to you.”

Amon snickered. “Even as grenades flew, you thought I’d besafe? Why would they be shooting if they planned on taking Reina alive?”

My brain felt like a whirlpool of details. Hiroshi had either fooled Hana like the rest of us, or she was an extremely good actress.