Earlier, Yutaro dug the bullet out of his shoulder and stitched the wound shut without so much as flinching. Apparently, he doesn’t feel pain at all.
Lucky bastard.
During the attack at the hospital, there was a moment I feared Augusto and his men had returned to kill me, but none of them seemed bothered with me.
I know I should be thankful, but I’m in too much pain to feel lucky that the Sicilians didn’t end my pathetic life.
I hear heavy footsteps, and a fresh wave of fear creeps over my skin. I try to straighten my spine, but I don’t have enough strength.
When my father comes into the room, I almost topple to the side, but my right hand slaps against the floor as I once again catch myself.
“The Sicilians know you’re a woman,” my father barks, and the next moment he steps on my hand.
I let out a whimper, and unable to remain upright, I fall forward while trying to pull my hand from under his polished dress shoe.
He grinds his heel against my fingers, and I can’t stop the cry from escaping.
Lifting his foot from my aching hand, Father remains standing near my head.
“You can be glad you’re still of use to me,” he says with a biting tone. “You will be trained to become a wife. You have three months, then I want you ready to marry whomever I choose for you.”
No. Please.
Tears sting my eyes because that’s worse than a death sentence. Even though I knew I would be forced into an arranged marriage, I had clung to the hope that Ryo would save me from the cruel fate.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg Father to have mercy on me, but then he grabs hold of my hair and roughly yanks my head backward so he can look at my face.
As if I’m nothing more than a piece of property, he looks at me with disgust. “She’s fucking ugly. No man will want her.” He lets out a disgruntled snort. “Have the doctor drain the fillers and make her look like a girl again.” His fingers roughly force my busted lips open. “Get her teeth fixed.”
I think I lost three or four during one of the beatings Augusto gave me.
Father lets go of my head, and when he rips the hospital gown open to expose my body, I’m filled with crippling shame. “She needs to lose a lot of weight. I want her to look like the perfect, innocent bride. She must learn how to cook and do everything that’s expected of her as a wife.”
“Yes, boss,” Yutaro responds to all the orders.
While the Sicilians had me, I prayed they wouldn’t kill me, but I’m starting to regret it. I should’ve begged for a quick death, instead.
When my father steps away from me, I struggle to pull the hospital gown closed again. Exhausted and in excruciating pain, I remain lying on the floor.
I watch as Father and Yutaro walk out of the room, then my vision goes black, and I drift in and out of consciousness.
Augusto
I’ve been in Tokyo for close to three months, and I’ve killed more than three dozen Yakuza soldiers.
I’ve also lost too many men.
Christiano wasn’t happy at all with the Yakuza and arrived in Japan two days ago, along with the other heads of the Cosa Nostra.
Yesterday, Tanako crawled out of his fucking hole and agreed to a meeting at a five-star hotel.
I’m fuming, and come hell or high water, he’ll pay for agreeing to meet with Christiano after avoiding me.
I will drain the fucker of every drop of blood in his body.
Sitting beside Christiano in a bulletproof G-Wagon, I clench my jaw as I stare down at my busted knuckles.
“I’ll let you handle things,” Christiano suddenly says.
