She never planned to murder Hui Ye.
Her family were mere workers in a web of power. They owed money to the families for their small bakery, and they welcomed the group’s leaders with graciousness and admiration. For as long as she could remember, her parents always bowed their heads low in the families’ presence, and they made her and her siblings bow their heads low as well. The families protected the bakery from crime and vandalism, and they lived in peace.
She was thankful for their help. They immigrated to the United States with little knowledge of the language, and they would’ve certainly grown up in poverty if the mafia group hadn’t taken her measly, unassuming family under its wing. Because of the families, Yin Mei never grew up hungry. She had toys for her birthdays and could spend a little extra on better clothes.
However, more than the gratitude, Yin Mei always admired the power they held and the respect they commanded. With money, they held power over people. It was different from the white man’s money. The white man’s money was displayed to the people of the poor, and, because they were white and men, the poor people lauded them for their supposed success and hard work and formed a culture around the idea of the white man’s journey. The Chinese families did not have the luxury to build undying envy and love from the civilians on proudly stolen wealth, so they lived with their money in secret. They manipulated events and stayed safe behind the curtains, and it was that protected power that she had wanted since she was a child.
She got what she desired. She caught the attention of a young man her age who was set to inherit the family business. He wasn’t one of the top families that made the final decisions, but he was one of the dragons—lots of might and lots of influence.That was good enough,she thought to herself then. There were no other eligible men in the other families.
She married him, her parents cried, and she had two children. He was good to her, and he worked hard at his job. He took great pride in his identity within Infinite.
Then the Chen and Hui family dispute happened, and he was shot dead under bullets sent by the Hui family in retribution for a deceased wife. Not only did she lose her husband, but she also lost her influence. The Hui family desired a thorough sweep, and they killed her husband’s entire family except for her and her children. Lao Hui took pity on her. Perhaps she reminded him of his own dead wife and young children.
It was sad that she lost the man who helped her grasp the power she desired, but she knew she had no time to regret or mourn. She would not go back to being a worker at a bakery who was dependent on other people to decide whether they lived good lives or not.
She would choose her own good life.
She openly forgave the Hui family. She wept with him over their lost spouses. She asked about his children, and he blabbered to the point her ears fell off, but she always smiled and pretended to listen. He asked about her children, and she bragged about their good features while angling their flaws to appeal to him. Lao Hui’s oldest son was smart, and he had little to teach him. “I never got to be a father to him because he caught on so quickly,” he once said.
She told him that her son was dumb and desperately needed a teacher.He would want that,she thought when talking to him. He had no daughter and wished his second child was one. “Admittedly, Lang Lang was unexpected, but it’s always good to have a full set, you know? A son and a daughter.”
“I have a daughter,” she told him. “I have a wonderful daughter.” She described her daughter like the graceful women that Chinese people, stuck in the legacy of tradition, loved. Quiet but inquisitive. Dainty but strong-minded. Artistic but with a penchant for math. She lured him with her useful children, and despite losing the man who first provided the ladder, she found herself climbing higher.
He was lonely and needed her, and, thanks to the younger son’s trauma, he had nowhere to go to process his grief except into her arms. She liked Hui Lang for that reason. She kept her children separate from the sons—she did not want them forming bonds—but she had a fondness for the younger who was always obedient, kind, and predictable.
She was wary of Hui Ye. Older than Hui Lang by ten years, Hui Ye never treated her with antagonism or coldness, but he was careful wherever he went and whomever he spoke to—including his own father. He, so similar to her, also wanted something, and she was wary against people like herself.
The older man died, and Hui Ye became head of the family. “It’s fine,” she told herself. She contributed in other areas. The Zhou and Yang family found Hui Ye too young, so she stepped in to ease their suspicions. When Hui Ye introduced the Chen family back to Infinite, she was the first to extend her hand and show support for Hui Ye’s decision. It was fine if their relationship remained professional. As long as the Hui family stood on top, she retained power.
Until she began noticing unusual behaviors. He recorded everything to great detail, he spoke to people she didn’t recognize, and after his move to Hong Kong, things changed. Their businesses floundered without him, and smaller families within Infinite were picked off. Stores got busted for their trafficking, and gambling dens were overturned in supermarkets. The most powerful families remained detached from these setbacks, dismissing her concerns. She, however, knew better.
She investigated on her own. Hui Ye interacted with people outside of the mafia world. There were politicians with idealistic dreams and families with money that never associated with Infinite. Piece by piece, she placed the truth together.
Hui Ye had betrayed Infinite.
She would not let that happen. She had her own games to play, and her own dreams to keep. She threatened his chauffeur by taking photographs of his family, and with consistent reminders, the chauffeur took matters into his own hands.
It was supposed to be over then. She would not speak a word of Hui Ye’s truth to the other families to ensure they would never suspect or inspire rumors that she had secretly been helping him. Hui Lang was a soft boy who didn’t want anything to do with the mafia, so everything Hui Ye left behind would properly belong to her and her alone.And in a few years, he would happen upon some accident,she thought to herself. It did pain her to imagine killing an innocent boy, but she knew such severity was necessary in their world. Ruthlessness was how they all survived and thrived.
Her place at the table would finally be hers, not the men she had convinced to let her in.
Until the will disappeared. Until the law grew bolder in searching. Until Hui Lang disappeared with the help of a woman who was undoubtedly Hui Ye’s ally. Her power threatened to slip right between her fingers after everything she’d done.
“I shall not let that happen,” she mumbled, pulling at her pearl necklace.
Should she tell the truth to the other families?Of course not. How will they ever trust me again?Hui Lang and his accomplice must be found and killed. With his convenient death alongside the actual traitor, the law would lose their final connection that kept the operation going.Then everything this time, truly, will belong to me.
• • •
Incessant buzzing hovered around Aiden’s ears. He tried to shoo the insect away, but the buzzing grew louder. Groaning, he located the vibrating phone left on the dresser and grabbed it.
Dad.
Dad?Aiden stared.No—not my dad.
He sat up. The phone stopped ringing, and a notification popped up. It joined hundreds of others lining the front screen of the phone. Texts from Christina and Javier demanded to know where Brendan was because of the news of a dead man outside his apartment complex. Texts from people Aiden didn’t recognize. Nonstop calling from Brendan’s parents.
“Brendan.” He shook the still-sleeping boy awake. “Brendan, your family and friends are looking for you.”
