Crossed by the Stars: A Second-chance, Slow-burn Romance

by LJ Evans

  Cillian and I exchanged another confused look. Rana just continued.

  “Then, there’s Osamu Yamasaki, Mori’s senior advisor. He and his brother had their own little criminal organization before Mori folded it into his. Yamasaki’s brother died in the process, by the way. We believe he’s lost faith in Mori—or maybe was just playing a decades-long game of revenge. He definitely wasn’t happy Mori was letting Ichika take over for her husband―Alzheimer’s or not. Yamasaki flew in this morning. He and his wife will be at the Matsudas today with everyone else.”

  “He’s using Jada as bait,” Cillian said, “hoping to lure one or all of the faction leaders out into the open.”

  Rana nodded.

  I sat there stunned, stomach falling, heart pounding. So many feelings were reeling through me, but fear was the one that emerged the strongest. Jada was walking into a gunfight in a kimono with no one at her back besides Kaida and her knife.

  Cillian put his hand to his ear.

  “The invitation says the chakai is taking place at the Matsudas at two.”

  “Is the FBI sending backup?” I asked Rana.

  She shook her head. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of Malone. He’s been undercover himself, and I didn’t dare use either of my other contacts with Yano’s virus inside the FBI firewalls.”

  Dawson had also said that Malone was undercover, so Rana repeating the information should prove she really was working with the FBI. But I still couldn’t help the doubt that lingered. Not to mention, I was still angry with her for letting anyone close to Jada. For walking away when Jada needed her. For accusing my father of any of this.

  Rana read the doubt that was heavy in the air amongst us, and her jaw clenched.

  “Look. Believe me or not. I’m here because I want to fix this as best I can before the FBI pulls me completely. I want Jada to walk away safe, and I want to get the bastards who killed Bobby. After, we can all go our own separate ways, unless you want my help undoing Yano’s hack to Reinard’s systems. Your choice.”

  It was Terrence who spoke first, darting his eyes to Cillian. “Any way to get eyes and ears inside without using Reinard?”

  “We’re going to have to find out.”

  Jada

  FOREVERMORE

  “I've been dreaming of this light,

  Piercing through my darkest night,

  I've been fighting all my life.”

  Performed by Yuna

  Written by Zara'ai / Govere / Braun

  As we left the Mori Enterprises building, Otōsan gave me the briefest of overviews for our day. While the women were at the chakai, he would be meeting with his senior advisors at the Matsuda’s home—business that I wasn’t told about and that I didn’t want to know. After the chakai, the Matsudas were hosting a dinner party to bring everyone together. It would require me to change from the kimono into an evening gown, another outfit that Otōsan had bought for me and that Kaida had stored in the trunk.

  What he didn’t say, but that I’d already deduced, was that he’d gathered his men, hoping they’d show their true colors because he was bringing me―the betrayer. They’d use his weakness in supposedly forgiving me as proof that he no longer had what it took to run the syndicate. They’d use me to topple him.

  It was like the FBI using me to bring him down all over again.

  The U.S. government had failed. I was fairly certain his own men would, too.

  With additional security following in the car behind us, Kaida drove my father, Isamu, and me to the Matsuda’s home in the area of the city known as Billionaire’s Row. Some of San Francisco’s largest and oldest mansions were clustered there, and the Matsuda’s was no exception, an early twentieth-century Victorian that looked as elegant as its price tag.

  I resisted the urge to look behind us as we moved through the streets, regretting my signal to Dax at the same time as my heart soared at the possibility of being rescued, of being saved from this dark world by a knight in shining armor. A chance at a life tangled with him as we’d been tangled for the last few days. Maybe I could make my own bubble like Kaasan and Obaasan had for the last few decades, one where denial, safety, and love mixed together.

  The butler opened the door as we walked up the front steps, as if he’d been waiting for us. He took Otōsan’s coat and ushered him into the study before sending me out the back to the gardens with Kaida trailing me. I could tell she was not pleased with her task. She’d rather be at my father’s side if his world came crumbling down, but he’d taken Yano instead of her.

  The backyard was an oasis, like stumbling into a garden shrine in Japan. Tall, pointed bushes mixed with flowers that bloomed in all seasons―including San Francisco’s autumn sky―filled the yard. But it was the pagoda that drew my eye, painted in red and gold with symbols of serenity and balance curling around the pillars.

  Akari waited for me outside the sliding door in a simple white kimono. A perfect hostess, she was greeting her guests in the exact manner she’d been taught. I wasn’t sure how I’d survive the slow, methodical movements of the tea ceremony or the silence that would accompany it. My emotions were too wound, my body demanding action. I didn’t even have the bracelet on my wrist to keep my hands busy anymore.

  Thoughts of Dax and the stillness he’d demanded that first day we’d made love filled me with both longing and determination. I could do this. I could sit amongst the group of women who saw me as a traitor by simply tuning them out, by thinking of Dax, his hands, his words, and the way he filled my soul with love. I could do this for him…until he arrived like I was certain he would.

  “Okyaku-San, welcome.” Not only was the dear guest said with a hint of sarcasm, but Akari’s bow was much lower than I deserved. I hadn’t quite believed Otōsan when he’d said I was going to be the guest of honor―the first seat―when everyone knew I shouldn’t have been allowed in the room at all.

  I washed my hands in the stone basin set outside, removed my shoes, and then followed Akari in while Kaida remained in the garden. She was not welcome at the ceremony, but she’d still hear me if I screamed. I just wasn’t sure if she’d actually save me.

  The pagoda was as elegant inside as out, full of heady flowers that accented the silk scrolls on the walls. The perfectly placed tatami mats were intricately and beautifully woven. The tea ceremony tools that Akari would use were already aligned faultlessly before the mats. Everything was simple in design but expensively crafted.

  My eyes settled on the five other women in the room also dressed in kimonos. They’d left the first tatami mat empty for me. Besides Ichika Matsuda and Hina Yamasaki, I couldn’t remember having met the other women. Hina’s position in the last seat was an honored one as well, usually reserved for an esteemed teacher. I’d expected to see Ichika in that place, but perhaps because Hina should have been in my place as the most respected auntie in the room, everyone had been shifted.

  As I was the last to arrive, Akari moved directly into the hostess role. She presented me with sweets, and I accepted them before turning to offer them to the others. I saw the fury on Hina’s face that she barely hid at having to wait for me to offer the food. Ichika, however, was calm. Perhaps it was because she’d been the one to insist I come. I suddenly wondered if she’d done it on purpose, to offend Hina.

  The conversation was polite and focused. I asked Akari about her tools and the kettle, as was the custom, and then, once she started to prepare the tea, silence took over the room. Akari’s movements were flawless. I would expect nothing less from a woman who’d become a master. I watched, in awe of the performance, as she picked up and put down each item with little hesitation but much grace. The guests were to admire this, and I did because I understood the number of steps and the order they must be conducted. I’d bumbled my way through my first and only chakai with Obaasan and Kaasan.

  The matcha I’d made that day had barely been drinkable, but I had no doubt that Akari’s would be perfect.
She moved through the ceremony step by step, as if a dancer on a stage. Graceful and sure. Finally, she scooped the tea powder and whisked it. The pale green foam formed and then settled to the center of the bowl in exactly the way my grandmother had tried to teach me.

  After cleaning the lip of the bowl one last time, Akari presented me with the tea. In the silence, it was almost impossible not to hear the grunt of disapproval that Hina made. I sipped and then commented softly.

  “What excellent matcha, Matsuda-san.”

  Her jaw tightened. I’d done nothing wrong. As the honored guest, I was supposed to comment on the tea. I was the only one who could, but Akari liked my comment even less than Hina liked me being in the spot that should have been hers. Akari’s jaw tightened, and she turned back to her performance.

  She made the tea for the remaining guests while the silence continued. The only sound was our sipping and Akari’s movements. The tea ceremony was about balance and respect, infused with serenity, but I felt far from calm. My anxiety was growing with each moment I had to spend with the women in the room.

  I was more than ready for my next role in this little play being put on for either my or Hina’s benefit. When everyone had placed their empty cups down, I turned and asked, “Has everyone finished?”

  Bows and nods returned my question, and we all sat and watched while Akari finished the ceremony by cleaning each utensil separately. She added fresh water back to the teapot to equal the amount of hot water that had been taken. More balance needed to be returned to the universe. When the tools and items had been cleared and taken away, Akari moved to the door, kneeling and thanking me for coming.

  As we left the pagoda, Hina stormed away with one of the other women following her. Neither Akari nor Ichika reacted. Instead, Ichika calmly offered the other two women a tour of the newly completed gardens, which she did not extend to me. I was left standing, unsure of what to do next.

  Kaida was gone, probably tired of waiting for me or leaving me to my fate—I wasn’t sure which. I looked around, trying to decide if I could sneak out a gate. I glanced in the direction of the side yard and saw the bulky shoulders of a security guard that would make leaving that way impossible.

  I had little desire to go back into the house to find my father. A shiver went down my spine at the thought of entering the study with the men. That had never gone well for me…had started me on this path a decade ago. I just wanted to be done with it…not just the day, but with my father, the Kyōdaina, and everyone in it.

  Akari came out of the pagoda, slipped into her shoes, and then approached.

  When she got closer, she hissed, “How dare you come.”

  My eyes widened. “Your mother and my father all but insisted I be here.”

  “You disregard your father every day, but this one time, you decide to follow along. Why? To cause my family further shame? If it were not for my deep respect for our traditions, I would have asked you to leave. You being here made me offend Yamasaki-san. Once Ane-san declined my invitation, it should have been her as the honored guest. I consulted with her about the menu and then had to move her to last place because you were coming. What should have been honor turned to disgrace.”

  “My mother was supposed to come?” Surprise filled me because she rarely left Japan.

  Akari shook her head. “No. We knew she would decline. She and Haha are not speaking right now.”

  “You’re wrong about our parents. They aren’t having an affair. Otōsan is simply trying to keep your father’s Alzheimer’s under wraps so he won’t be shamed by his forgetfulness, so their enemies don’t try to take over. Your mother is helping.”

  Akari looked at me with shock. “My father is not ill.”

  My tongue lodged itself to the roof of my mouth. Was my father lying, or was she naïve enough not to know about her father’s health? Was she like Kaasan, living in a gilded cage?

  “Maybe I misunderstood. Regardless, our parents’ meetings are business related and not sexual in nature.”

  Akari’s eyes glowered, but there was something behind her look, something sharp and cunning as if pieces were sliding into place for her. Akari was not the quiet, silent, obedient girl she appeared. Like me, she put on a mask for those around her.

  “We have a room set aside for you to get ready in. I’ll show you to it,” she said, but I could tell she’d rather shove me out on the street or down a few stairs in the process. I was completely okay with being kicked out.

  She led the way inside with her shoulders back and her stride stiff. All the grace of her movements during the tea ceremony was gone.

  Entering the house after being in the pagoda accentuated the stark contrast between the two buildings. While the pagoda had been perfectly Japanese, the house was all Victorian. The crown molding was heavy, the wallpaper was patterned with deep floral colors, and the antique chandeliers barely cast enough light to see by. Dark versus the light of the pagoda.

  Akari led me up the mahogany staircase in silence and into a room with a four-poster, canopied bed. A dress bag hung from the wardrobe, and I assumed it contained the dress Otōsan had bought me.

  “Dinner will be served in an hour,” she said, her voice cold and angry.

  As soon as she’d closed the door, I hurried to the window. I pulled open the blinds, eyes scouring the street for any sign of Cillian, Dax, and the vehicles they typically used. I saw nothing. The street was almost bare. My heart fluttered.

  I’d been absolutely certain Dax had understood the signal. I’d received his acknowledgment in return. My stomach twisted as thoughts I didn’t want to have entered my head. Maybe he’d understood but chosen not to come. Maybe my life had finally scared him away for good.

  You’re not alone, mon bijou. I’m here. I’ll be here for as long as you let me.

  I let his words push aside the doubt. I had to believe he was coming, but in the meantime, I would do what I’d always done. I’d count on myself to get me out of the mess I was in.

  I caught sight of my appearance in the wardrobe’s mirror and halted. Dressed in the kimono I never wore, I almost didn’t recognize myself. This was the life I’d rebelled against, and suddenly, my body burned to get out of it. If I didn’t, I might vomit. I might spontaneously combust.

  I unwrapped my body, tossing the kimono on a chair and reaching for the bag with the gown inside it. Even though I cringed at the thought of my father buying it as much as I had the kimono, at least the dress was something I was used to. It was black and gold, made of material so light it almost floated. The metallic bodice stood out against my pale skin while the black skirt flared out, landing midthigh in satiny waves. It fit me perfectly. Either Yuriko had made it for me at my father’s request, or someone who knew me very well had. At the bottom of the bag was a pair of shoes made of gold and black lace. They were expensive and spiked just like I enjoyed them, but they would make running away slightly more difficult, no matter how good I was in heels.

  After I’d put the dress on, I left my hair in the low chignon I’d placed it in earlier and hurried out of the room. The front door had guards inside and out, the bulky forms easily seen through the glass. The man facing me was in a dark suit and had a face more severe than any I’d seen on Cillian.

  I’d known it wouldn’t be as easy as walking out the front door, and yet, my heart still fell slightly. It was fine. There would be other doors, other ways out. Even a window on a lower floor would do. As I turned to explore the house, Isamu appeared at my side, as if from nowhere.

  Jada

  COSMIC LOVE

  “And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat.

  I tried to find the sound,

  But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness.

  So, darkness I became.”

  Performed by Florence + The Machine

  Written by Welch / Summers

  “Going somewhere, Jada-chan?” Even as my cousin, him saying the nickname felt out
of place. We didn’t know each other well enough for him to assume he could use it. And because of that, it felt as condescending as when Ken’Ichi had taunted me with it. My skin began to crawl again, so many warning signs filling the air around me.

  “I’m surprised, Isamu, that you aren’t at my father’s side,” I said in the haughty Jada tone I’d perfected in my years traveling with Benita and the vampires. His eyes narrowed at my tone and my using his first name.

  “How was the chakai? Akari has been preparing for months,” he said, and the hair on my arm stood up even more. The personal name he used for Akari. The fact that he’d known she’d been planning the tea ceremony for so long. Were they a couple? Engaged? Had my father arranged a marriage between them as a way of offering repentance for the loss of a son? Marrying a man so high in the Kyōdaina would be another acknowledgment of the Matsudas’ position just as Ken’Ichi marrying me would have been.

  “She was brilliant,” I said.

  He hardly acknowledged it as he took in the dress I was wearing.

  “You’ve changed already. This is unfortunate.”

  “Why?” I asked, my heart leaping but my face staying calm.

  He tucked his hand through my arm, and the scent of his cologne hit me, a scent that had my mind flying back to my apartment the day the first note had been left. I jerked, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip, twisting my wrist painfully. “Do be a good girl, for once in your life, and come along,” he said with a calm that both my father and Ken’Ichi would have respected.

  Me, on the other hand…I was filled with anger and terror in equal amounts.

  “I’m to wait for Kaida,” I said, which wasn’t true but felt necessary.

  “Kaida is…tied up with more important things.” He smirked. “I’ve told her about Yamasaki-san’s gun. And your father will always be her first choice.”