“Please sit.” Motioning to the cushions across from him. He settles back, resting his pigment-stained fingers in his lap in a steeple-like fashion, not unlike the elder Shipmoore brother.
“I understand there is a misconception regarding my wife.” He drops that bomb as if it’s common knowledge that he married the woman who was gifted to him a year ago.
“Ahem, Bishop and Porter Shipmoore have expressed concern for their sister’s wellbeing. They are unaware of her marriage —”
“You’ve talked to my brothers?” Looking up to the beautiful figure entering from the garden, her arms filled with flowers, we finally see Prosperity Shipmoore the first time since she kneeled muzzled at his side on Akchiro’s super yacht over a year ago.
Looking at Tsuyoshi who gives me a nod, I answer, “Yes, they have taken up residence in Tokyo and made their desire to see and hear from you well known among our business associates. Presently, our wives are guests of your brothers as we work tohelp resolve the issue of their most beloved sister’s absence from their lives.”
Her eyes look to her husband and back to us. Swallowing visibly, she puts the basket down, making the bump protruding from her kimono evident.
Making her way over to Tsuyoshi, she takes his hand as he helps her to take her position at his side.
“You warned me this would happen. I’m sorry.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. Despite her best efforts, one slips through.
Face hardening, Tsuyoshi swipes the tear away like it offends him.
“I’ll take care of it,” he promises her, but she’s already shaking her head.
Gripping his wrist, she kisses it, shaking her head. “I need to do this — I should have already done so.”
Nodding, he reaching inside a hidden pocket of the kimono he’s wearing, handing her his phone.
She dials a number, “Bishop?”
Chapter 16
Mine ??
Takashi
“Take care of yourself.” I watch my wife whisper, hugging Evangelina tightly before trudging rather forlornly over to where I’m standing holding the door open to my GT-R like I’m her hired driver instead of the man who fought like hell to get her out of the clutches of the Shipmoore brothers. They don’t know all the bloodshed or how precarious the negotiations were for their release, even after Bishop and Porter talked to their sister for the first time in over a year.
Shooting a hesitant glance my way, she slips into the car. Snapping her into her seat, I close the door, nodding to Riyu as he mirrors my movements, closing the door behind Ev and then walking around to the driver’s side of his car before getting inside.
The black van that dropped them off peeled off as soon as they emerged. No tags, the drivers masked.
Nothing to speak of, where they came from. The drones we used lost the signal with the blockers they employed, scrambling the satellite. The Shipmoores are nothing if not efficient.
Frustrating to deal with, but the grudging respect I have for them has only grown. There has not been another syndicateequaling ours, and the Bastard brother for some time. The Carrington’s are family, so we claim them as our own despite their having some distant ties to the bastards. Flower, being our sister, supersedes Ozymandias’s claim as a mere cousin. Still, they are our allies. We and the Shipmoores are at détente. If they move against Tatsutmoto the bloodbath with will ensue will make the wars of the Samurai seem like child’s play.
Once I take my seat, I look at Bridget. She’s looking straight ahead. She’s hiding. Ducking from the guilt she must have from enjoying herself as a guest of the Shipmoores. They had no qualms about sharing daily updates with them entertaining our wives.
Bishop even deigned to play Go with Bridget. I’m not sure if she mentioned to them in passing. Yet they were immersed in intense play with Porter and Ev watching in the distance. They seemed to be far at ease than anyone who was the brother’s guests under duress.
More videos of them having dinner with the brothers were fed into our screens under health and wellbeing.
Rage ticks up my spine. Watching our wives sharing time with them and them enjoying their hospitality. Innocuous as it seems, it did nothing if not spur us into action of getting them far away from Bishop and Porter Shipmoore as soon as possible.
Huffing out a laugh, shifting the car into gear. Zero to sixty in one second snaps her pretty ass curls back against the leather. Nails curling into the leather is the only indication of her apprehension.
We are on the road for nearly an hour when I pass the exit that would take us back to Torannomon Hills, our penthouse suite in Tokyo. Up until this moment, she’d looked out the window with the intensity of one who wanted to avoid any conversation at all. I don’t for a minute think she’s miffed atbeing taken. Hell, she may be mad that she had to come back home.
Taking a particularly deep curve, I watch in my periphery as she clutches the door this time.
“We aren’t going back to Tokyo?”
“No. It was a mistake to take you there. You weren’t ready for that step yet.” Making no attempt to keep the snarl from my tone, I take the ascent toward the mountain to that will take us to the forest hideaway.
