Page 6 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?
“Can we talk now? Please?” I say, casting my gaze around. The Akiyama men around us look like they don’t really know what the appropriate way to act is when the leader’s son is getting shit for being a little reckless.
My father lets go. He dismisses everyone with a wave of his hand and leads me and Aran to the outdoors pool bar out back. His eyebrows remain knitted the whole time, only relaxing once he’s poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“You know I am doing this for your own good, Chai,” he says, the sternness in his voice mellowing out. Not fully, but enough to tell me that his concern is real. “You are not a child anymore and in the near future you will become the Akiyama Group’s leader. Learn to act like one.”
He cut me some slack while I attended business college in London, but since I turned twenty-four upon my return last year, he’s gone full Spartan style on me. Part of me can’t blame him—he’s not been the same after we lost my mom when I was in high school.
“I know. But I wish you could trust me to handle myself,” I argue futilely, cringing at the look of disbelief he gives me.
“What did you want to talk about? I’m leaving for Tokyo in twenty minutes.” The change of topic makes itclear he disagrees with me and is not willing to give me a chance to prove him wrong.
If he’s going to Tokyo, then Herald Security, which is a subsidiary to the Akiyama Group, must’ve won the contract for the foreign conference in Thailand. I’m supposed to be involved in that once everything has been officially signed.
Taking a deep breath, I look him in the eyes. “I think we have a mole.”
His scowl immediately deepens. “This nonsense again?”
“How else do you explain the Nebisu Gang knowing I’d be at the Kouen Baths? The only way is if one of our men heard me and Aran talking about it earlier.”
My father turns his sour glare to my best friend. Aran doesn’t even flinch. “I was under the impression Kwanchai was going therenextweek,” he rats my lie out.
“Or someone saw you went without your bodyguards and informed the Nebisu?” my father suggests flatly. He does have a point, but I am ninety-nine percent sure that’s not it.
We slip into a back-and-forth for the next five minutes, getting nowhere. He has to go then, so that’s that, leaving me annoyed and frustrated.
Why wouldn’t he just believe me?It’s not like I’m saying it just out of boredom. Besides, if he considered it just for a moment, the few recent hits we’ve had on some of our warehouses make total sense.
“You could’ve taken my side, you know,” I hiss at Aran when he sits down on the stool next to mine.
He taps his slender fingers on the marble counter and gives me one of thoselookswhich make his brown eyes look cold and disappointed. “Don’t be an idiot next time.”
I scoff.
“I’m serious. If not for the clubber stepping in, what do you think would’ve happened to you?”
I scrunch my nose, suppressing a wince. So, he’s already found out aboutthatlittle incident. But my father didn’t bring it up, which means Aran didn’t tell him. Yet.
Being reminded of the foreigner gets me thinking about him. I’ve survived the scolding, so it’s time to get some intel on him. “You at least believe me about the mole?”
Aran swivels in his chair, facing the front. The light from the fluorescent strips along the awning above us gives his black hair a shiny finish. It’s longer than mine and he sometimes ties it in a bun at the top, whereas I stick to a slicked to the side style.
“I’ve not been able to ascertain anything. It could well be as Daichi said. Someone could’ve seen you and decided you’d be an easy pick with no bodyguards.”
Daichi is my father’s first name and Aran is the only one allowed to use it. He’s about fifteen years younger than my father’s fifty-four, though I don’t know his exact age. He was my personal bodyguard while I was growing up and we sort of became friends. Sometimes, I still wonder how father allowed it, seeing as back then Aran was still new to the organization, but then again, the two of them go way back and he’s always called my dad by his first name, so what do I know?
“Are you just going to ignore the shipment hits like he does?” I counter, huffing air out of my nose.
He shrugs. “This is not unusual. Strife between groups causes goods to get stolen all the time.”
Sure, but not so many occurrences in the span of just six months. Initially, I thought this would be the perfectopportunity for me to prove to my father I’m ready and more than capable of being his successor, but so far all I’ve gotten are dead ends.
All the more reason it has to be an inside job, if only someone would listen to me.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll prove it to you too, and when I do, you’ll wear the pig onesie for an entire week and tell everyone that I was right.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t rightfully suspicious. I just pointed out that there is no evidence to support your claim.”
I hate how smart he is with words sometimes.
