Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 29 - 33

Chapter 29: Chapter 33

Botan POV

"As a courtesy of letting us use Haru’s airfields. We are prepared to give you five percent of the haul. We can provide our own security escort to deliver the cargo to a secondary location."

I remain silent, staring back at him fixedly. The Czech shifts restlessly under my gaze, casting fretful looks at his associates. I don’t say anything and like always. I never have to. He consults with those around him, whispering in a foreign fevered rush.

I keep staring.

Avoiding direct eye contact, he says. "Do we have a deal or not?"

I keep staring.

He looks beyond me at Akio who stands behind me on my right side. "Well? Does he need a translator or something?"

Akio steps to stand at my side. "Kare no shita o dasa sete kudasai." Let me take out his tongue.

I lift a hand. He obeys my silent command, returning to where he was.

"We should take your heads for your blatant disrespect," Akio seethes in a steely hiss.

The man’s face blanches, panicked whispers ripple amidst his associates.

"We would never seek to disrespect Haru—"

"Eighteen percent," I state, knowing it will be met with swift submission. "You shall present the cargo to me so that I may personally evaluate its quality and worth."

He nods quickly. "Yes, of course. The shipment is docked at the bay. We can take you there now."

I stand up. My phone rings. Akio takes it out of his pocket and he gives it to me.

I answer without saying anything.

"Botan?" A shrill of terror in her voice.

I halt, the sound of her fear is an unutterable dread that seizes me where I stand.

"What’s wrong?"

She breathes raggedly, fast and unstable. "I–I need you."

"Where are you?"

She tells me. I snap my fingers, rallying a few of the men to follow and we head out. Kai sends me a protesting look, gesturing to the Czechs and the perplexed expressions of his counterparts. I tell him to handle it in my stead and close the deal. Akio and I take the black Range Rover and the other four climb into the matte black g wagon. Akio rockets down the road, heading to my Bella’s current location at a private estate by the beach.

Akio sends me countless glances through the rear-view mirror.

"Say it or keep your eyes on the fucking road."

"You know Haru wants you supervising certain transactions and facilitating trade agreements."

"Kai is more knowledgeable in military-grade weapons than me."

"Not about that. You’re distracted. Everyone sees it. Your obsession with her."

"Skip to the point where any of that is your business."

He makes a sudden sharp left turn. "It is my business if it’s cutting into the business. She’s been talking to that cop. Ex cop, but he still has influential friends."

"And we have the Chief of Police on our payroll. I’m not moved by some fucker who doesn’t have a badge. His days are numbered. He didn’t take the warning the first time, so Haru wants him gone. Frankly, I do too."

"Killing him would raise too much suspicion."

"Who said anything about killing him?" I rest my head back with my throat exposed, meeting his gaze in the rear-view mirror. "Accidents happen all the time... heart attacks...car wrecks...and my favorite. Fire."

He nods slowly. "Arsen is almost impossible to prove."

"And no one will look past the facts. A natural tragedy."

Akio huffs out a heavy breath. "You’re still too close to this. The grip she has on you... she calls and you come running."

"Still not seeing your point."

"She is. She’s a mark, but not to you... I know you."

I nearly bark out a laugh. "You know me?"

He nods confidently, platinum white hair combed back, a stark contrast to his black brows.

"The things I’ve seen you done would dissolve the soul of any man. I didn’t think you had the capability to care for a living being, which is why Haru made you his number two. You have the mettle to do what no one else can. Your hyper focus is on the job, but your focus has shifted, which is dangerous when imperative functions of transactional affairs hinge on your focus. You are the fulcrum of Haru’s organization, without your focus. Things will malfunction."

I mull over his words, taking it into consideration. "Have they? Have things malfunctioned?"

A deep breath seeps through his lips. "No."

"My focus is where it’s needed, and everyone knows where my allegiance lies."

He nods sharply. "I never questioned it. It’s her I’m worried about. You know what happens to people like her in our world."

"Her father put her into it—I want her out."

My phone rings again. I answer.

"Lost visual on the Mayor." Fujin. One of my plants moonlighting as security for Governor Adler’s party. "He and the Governor as well as Rostova, Kosloff and Afrim went to discuss a private matter. I’m outside their door right now."

A Russian oligarch, an infamous trafficker and an Albanian politician.

"What’s the security layout?"

"Two guards monitoring their meet. Three more at the entrance and another four securing a perimeter, rotating every hour."

"I’m organizing an extraction. I’m sending a team of four to cause a diversion. Make it clear that it’s a surgical strike. No one gets hurt or incapacitated. It has to be like we were never there."

"An extraction for who?"

"The Mayor’s daughter. I’ll call her to send her your way."

***

The diversion was successful. All units have relocated to the other side of the estate, giving them a leeway to escape. Fujin emerges in the massive doorway, clutching Bella’s bicep. He guides her down the steps and they make a brisk approach. She’s a golden ember against the black of night, and I quickly notice she’s barefoot with a thin cream shawl draped over her head, using the ends to cover her face. Fujin opens her door, and she slips inside. Fujin sends me a curt nod before he closes the door behind her. He pounds a fist on it. The car speeds off.

I try to get a look at her, but she angles her face away from me, sniveling silently. A trembling hand holding the fabric to her face to conceal herself from me.

"Doko e ikou?" Where do I go?

"Watashitachi o watashi no basho ni oroshite kara, kai ni chekkuin shite kudasai." Drop us at my place, then check in with Kai.

***

The barred gate of the elevator rises, revealing the inside of my loft. Surprisingly, she walks out first, strolling deeper, drawn to the panoramic view that my floor-to-ceiling windows provide, displaying the cityscape from above. Starlight pours inside, bathing her in an ethereal glow, making the gold of her wear radiant like the sun doused by silver-sieved moonlight.

I come out of the reverie, exiting the elevator, and the gate closes behind me.

She pivots to the side, eyeing the brick-faced walls and exposed wooden ceiling beams. "Very industrial...and masculine." Her eyes skim over the stainless steel kitchen, then it rises to my bedroom raised on the top level with a glass railing, then her eyes drop to the chain dangling a worn punching bag with a pull-up bar nearby.

"This place is very you."

"Meaning?"

I go to the kitchen, lighting the gas stove to boil the water inside the cast iron teapot.

"You have no pictures in your home." She swivels around, the shawl still laced around her head. "No decor. Only furniture and besides the busted punching bag. You’d swear no one lives here."

I move aside to lean my rear against the edge of the slab of granite, crossing my arms.

"And what does that tell you about me?"

"Absolutely nothing."

I set my gaze on her and she turns her back to me, pretending to admire the view, shivering slightly but uncontrollably. Something unspeakable must have happened for her to call me. Whatever threat or trauma she faced, her instinct was to involve me. I’d be happy if my curiosity wasn’t running rampant, burning to know what happened. But I don’t want to force her. She called me and knows well enough I’d want to know why.

"You look cold in that dress."

"Is that your way of trying to get me out of it?" Her voice is free from humor and filled with nothing, sounding numb. Devoid like dry wind.

"You’re shaking. Why do you think I’m boiling water? Whilst I make you a cup of tea, you’re welcome to raid my wardrobe upstairs for something warm. It’s an offer, not a demand."

She remains statuesque for a long while. I can’t see her face, her back is to me. After a long, high-strung moment, frigid with an unexplainable tension. She ambles to the side, heading to the staircase. Once she disappears upstairs, I wait for the water to finish boiling so I can make her a cup of Sobacha, a caffeine-free Japanese herbal tea. It’s also known as buckwheat tea as it’s produced from roasted buckwheat kernels which gives a nutty, earthy taste. I set everything up in the lounge, placing the tray on the black glass table.

"You drink tea?"

I rotate around to see her swathed in a furry black blanket that was draped at the foot of my bed. She hefts it around her form so it ends at her ankles, but as she drifts closer, I catch glimpses of her legs, dressed in one of my t-shirts. She holds the blanket lifted to her face, covering something. Once she’s close enough, I capture her face in my hands, ignoring the sparkling sensation surging through me, gently tilting her face to the side to expose what she’s been hiding. A discolored bruise that billows into darker shades. Anger heats my blood. I release her quickly, overcome by the desperate need to break something.

"Who?"

She shakes her head quickly and many times. "No."

"No, what? Who—" white-hot rage spreads through my limbs, gripping my bones. "Who did that? Who would dare fucking dare do that?"

She bursts into tears. "Please." Her sob intensifies, her chest heaves, gasping for breath.

The sight of it does something to me—taking something—everything from me. An unfamiliar ache seeps through me, bleeding my strength until I’m hollow. I am powerless, watching her unravel in sorrow, helpless as the weight of her unspoken pain crushes her. Every fiber of me yearns to cradle her suffering, to shoulder the burden so she won’t have to carry even a fragment of I’m yet to understand. I take her into my embrace, enveloping her in my arms, chest-to-chest, pressed flush against me, melding into one. She melts into me, allowing herself to weep freely. My hold on her is strong, hoping she can draw whatever solace she can from me.

A time, infinitely small, a glimpse of eternity. It passes. And eventually, she breaks away from me. She takes out her phone and calls someone, wiping her face with the blanket.

"Kels? If anyone asks about me, tell them I’m sleeping over at your place. I promise, no one will bother you there again."

I can hear the angered, feminine voice from where I am, ranting about something.

"I know. I swear this is the last time. I will make it up to you and tell you everything. Please, I need you to do this for me."

A moment later, she ends the call and bends over to place her phone next to the tea set. She retreats and settles on the very edge of the black leather couch. I come to the table, and I take the teapot to fill the handleless cup until the brim. And I hand it to her. She takes it with unsteady hands, clenching her jaw, frustrated with herself. She takes a long sip, pauses, then takes another one. My eyes stray to the old scar meandering around her thumb pad.

"Do you remember your mother?"

"I try to...but as the years go by, her face starts fading like a dream. I have to constantly try to remember to keep from forgetting. Funny enough, I remember the day she died, vividly."

She inhales another long draw.

"The car crash?"

She nods sadly, her eyes polished with held-in tears. "We were all traveling together to visit my grandparents. We wanted to leave early because my dad saw the weather report that they were expecting heavy rains like a ready bad storm. And they wanted to skip it, hopefully."

She hangs her head for a moment. "I didn’t want to leave. I loved hanging out with my grandparents as a kid, but that weekend I was supposed to go to a birthday party with a Disney costume theme.And I was obviously going to attend as Belle. I had a yellow dress and everything. I was so excited, for months I had my dress hanging on the door of my wardrobe like it was my most treasured possession. At the time, it was."

Her fingers twitch around the cup, staring vacantly into the distance.

"I threw a tantrum. I delayed everyone, slowly washing and getting dressed. My dad was furious, and he wanted to give me a good spanking, but my mom refused. I told them: I want to go to the party. This is my chance to be a princess." Her eyes glitter with fresh tears, brows knitting together. "And she said; you’ve always been a princess, Bella, my Belle. Now it’s time for you to act like a princess. And princesses do what they’re told with grace, always smiling and never cheeky."

The anguish of it all distorts her face into a sob and‌ she sinks to the floor. She frees an explosive breath and leans against the front of the couch, setting the cup beside her, swiping at her wet cheeks with her blanket-shrouded hands.

"By the time we got on the road, the clouds were bloated and dark. Usually, I’d be sandwiched between my brothers for long distant travels, but I was such a pain in the ass that day. My dad let me sit on the side, and Silas was in the middle. An hour into the drive, you could barely see anything past the blur of fog and rain. Not even the huge truck that plowed into our car."

I shift over, moving my leg over her so she’s seated between my legs on the floor. She nestles deeper into me, leaning her head against my thigh, her arms tangling around my leg like she’s clutching onto a lifeline. I tilt closer, stroking her hair, letting my fingers brush through her silky strands.

"I was out cold the longest, on ventilation and everything." Her grip around me tightens. "I knew something was wrong from the moment I opened my eyes—" her voice cracks, a cry grating the back of her throat, "everyone was there but her. And I knew, even then, I knew that she didn’t survive. They tried to explain what happened to me, but I didn’t even care—I just wished it was me instead of her."

"Don’t say that." A broken whisper. "That’s not what she would’ve wanted for you. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just life. Our time here is borrowed and one day we have to give it back. I didn’t know her, but I know she’d be proud of you...you embody all her best parts. You are the living echo of her finest qualities, everything good and pure woven into being. "

She stiffens, then pivots to look up at me.

"You knew her before..."

I nod rigidly. "Briefly. I was a hard-headed youth at the time but even in my folly I could appreciate her grace and kindness. And she had no idea your father was involved with the Yakuza."

Relief washes over her to the point she closes her eyes for a quiet moment.

"You couldn’t begin to know how much I needed to hear that. With everything that has happened...I realize that these past years I’ve only learned to know the facades of people and not the people themselves."

The profound realization stokes my curiosity, sensing an inbound confession.

Proceeding with caution, I say, "Who was fronting with you?"

She scoffs resentfully. "Other than my father and brothers?"

"Yes. Other than them."

She tucks herself back between my legs, one arm looped around my knee.

Though I want to shake the words out of her, I exercise patience, even though it wears thin.

"My mom was dad’s biggest fan," she says with a humorless laugh. "He used to call her his first lady. I believed in him the same way she did, perhaps even more after she died. I can’t count how many rallies, political conferences and galas I’ve attended. And how many G–Grayson was attending as well. He...he was like my favorite cousin at a family reunion. We always had a good time together at boring events, but we never saw each other outside of them."

I don’t like where this is going.

"The Vacherons have planned a getaway for us. We leave in a few days, actually. It would’ve been sooner, but my dad was insistent on attending Governor Adler’s dinner party. And Grayson really wanted me to be there, too. I was... excited. No different from the hundreds of parties we’ve been at together."

A long, tense interval of silence.

"You wouldn’t believe how wrong I was."

Rage chars my insides. "Did he—"

"He tried to," she interjects with speed. "Knocked me to the ground after a cocktail glass shattered on the floor. I took a shard and stabbed him with it... that’s how I got away."

I restrict my rage, but I don’t subdue it. I can’t.

"You’re more capable than even you perceive."

She snorts wryly. "I didn’t even...I just...something took cover. And I got out."

"You did..."

"As for him. He’s going to go on as if nothing happened."

My eyes snap down at her. "And why’s that?"

"He’s the Governor’s son. He’s practically untouchable. Even with proof, his father is powerful, and he has even more powerful friends high up in the judiciary system. My dad, too. But he could make everything disappear with a wave of his hand. That’s why he was so confident to try... take advantage of me with an entire party of people just two floors down."

I’ve heard enough. Gorey and violent visions overwhelm my mind.

"It’s late." I launch to my feet, moving over her to walk a few paces away. "You can take my bed. I’ll have the couch."

She rises slowly. "Thank you."

"Never thank me. What I do for you... I do for myself."

She fixes the blanket around her and shuffles to the staircase, scaling up the steps. After two hours or so, I go up to check on her. Once I’m at the top of the staircase, I lean against the railing, observing her, her face caught in a wince. Her skin is like the bright glow of a dying twilight. Long lashes rested gently on her cheeks, fluttering only in the fierce moments of her dreaming. Her hair is like the halo of a dark angel, tresses like rain-soaked earth. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at her; staring at her in my bed.Time seems to hold its breath around her, the world hushed in reverence, as if nature itself bows to her stillness.

Without looking away, I absently slip out my phone, calling Fujin.

A few short rings later...

"Boss."

"Grayson Adler. Bring him to me. Take him to the den and prep him."

"Grayson Adler...son of the Governor? That Grayson? Just asking to be sure before his father sends the wrath of the FBI on our asses."

"Take a team to infiltrate his estate. Shoot to kill anyone who gets in your way."

"Boss. Did big boss put you up to this? We both know kidnapping the Governor’s son is a lot of heat."

"Get it done. Let me worry about the fallout."

I end the call, moving the leather chair from my cluttered desk on the verge of the platform. I settle on it, resting against it with my elbows propped on the arms, watching over her.