Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Sara Fields

  “Which stockholders are the deposits tied to?” I asked as I pulled open a list of current and past shareholders within Seth’s company.

  Richardson answered, pointing out five names I needed to be suspicious of. I jotted down them all and planned to look into them immediately.

  “I took the liberty of looking into Seth Mikaels’ phone records too. Just a few weeks ago, he received a number of phone calls originating from Tokyo. The calls ping to several locations throughout the area and never the same one, likely a result of a technology that blocks its triangulation,” he added next.

  “Thank you, Richardson. This is of great help to me. I will transfer payment immediately. Good work,” I replied.

  “It was my pleasure, Mr. Porter,” he answered, and I hung up the phone.

  Brooke was quiet for a long moment before she asked me what the Yakuza were.

  “You’ve heard of the mafia, correct?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Well, there are a number of other mob-like organizations throughout the world. There is the Italian mafia, which has been highly documented in the movies and in television, but that’s not the only one like it out there. There’s the Irish mafia, the Russian mob, the Chinese Triad and there’s the Japanese Yakuza, which is actually the richest mafia organization in the entire world,” I explained.

  She listened in silence, so I continued.

  “They aren’t always easy to identify and since several Japanese lawmakers have put certain rules in place, they’ve been even harder to pinpoint. They have an extraordinary amount of money at their disposal and they’ve used it to hide their activities deep behind legitimate foundations and companies. They are highly organized and structured similarly to a corporation,” I said.

  “Have you dealt with some of them before?” she asked.

  “I have a number of Yakuza allies, but you have to understand that there are several different families under the Yakuza name. Two very big ones are the Yamaguchi-gumi and the Inagawa-kai. The kingpin of the Inagawa is a close ally of mine. His name is Kiyota Jiro,” I answered.

  “What should be our first move?” she asked next.

  “I want to talk to the shareholders but in order to do that, I think it would be best if I did it myself. In person,” I said.

  “Without me?” she inquired.

  “Yes. I think they will tell me things they’d never say around the boss’ daughter,” I said. I planned to use every tool at my disposal and not all of them were good. I had a range of different tactics I could use on these men in order to find out the information that I needed. Blackmail. Torture. Threats to them or their family.

  The Japanese Yakuza were a dangerous enemy and I feared for Seth. For all I knew, he could already be dead, but the Yakuza weren’t stupid. He’d be more useful to them alive and properly handled than with a bullet between his eyes.

  “Why don’t you take a seat over there and pull up the records on these five men. Get me everything you have, and I’ll do some digging of my own,” I told her, and she nodded. She rose to stand and I chuckled as I looked down at my thigh.

  “Your pussy is wet, isn’t it, little girl,” I ventured, and she blushed hard. “Do you know how I know?” I continued and she shook her head.

  “No, sir,” she finally replied, her voice anxious but also quiet.

  “You left a wet spot on my slacks,” I told her and the pink flush on her cheeks deepened. I smiled and turned back to my screen. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her reach into her purse and pull out a laptop. She placed it on my desk and pulled the leather armchair closer to the edge before she got to work. I perused the list of names Richardson had pointed out and began looking into each one.

  The first name on the list was Matsuo Hidecki. It appeared that he had been born in Nagasaki and had traveled here when he was in his twenties. He’d attended New York University and majored in marketing. The second name was Shinsato Takeo. He’d only come here recently and worked as a stockbroker before becoming one of the biggest shareholders in Seth’s company. The other three were Miyake Yukata, Seto Mashashi, and Kato Yoshito. They’d also moved to the United States within the past fifteen years.

  All five of them had become some of the biggest shareholders in the corporation within weeks of each other even though they were seemingly unconnected, at least on paper. The more I looked into the five, the more suspicious I became. Every single picture had them dressed in suits with long sleeves and very high necks, all to conceal the most concrete evidence that would give them away as Yakuza members.

  Their incredibly intricate tattoos. They called them irezumi.

  Often, the tattoos spanned the entirety of the man’s chest and back, as well as their arms. Some were dragons, koi fish, or monsters, or even severed heads, but they all had one thing in common. They were a mark of pride among the Japanese mafia because the tattoos were often done by hand, which meant they took a very long time and were exceedingly painful.

  It showed a measure of their strength.

  The more extensive the tattoo, the stronger the man.

  I sent out several emails to men who worked for me and within an hour, I had five files that detailed everything there was to know about each shareholder. I took quite a while going over each one and decided to start out with the youngest. The Japanese mafia had a hierarchy and I was going to start with the lowest one. I’d begin with a phone call and if necessary, I’d meet with each man if person until they revealed the information that I needed.

  I dialed Matsuo Hidecki first. He answered and I introduced myself. For a long moment, he was quiet, which told me that he knew who I was and the type of power I held. I probed him carefully at first and when he was initially resistant, I started to mention aspects of his life that I knew of. Like the name of his wife. His children.

  I wouldn’t actually carry out anything against his family, but he didn’t know that. All he knew was that I had the kind of money that allowed a man to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He also knew that the avenues I took weren’t legal most of the time. Important, he sounded afraid.

  In some ways, I was like a crime lord but in others I was starkly different. I didn’t waste my money or my time in petty crime like loan sharking or drug running. That was beneath me. I didn’t even traffic guns and weapons. I dealt in another form of payment and that was power. I bought it. I sold and traded it. I was rolling in it, but I did it all in secret.

  Those who knew me called me the Kingmaker. Others dubbed me the King-breaker.

  Some just called me the Boss.

  If you weren’t rich and powerful yourself, you didn’t know I existed.

  The fact that Matsuo knew who I was spoke volumes.

  “It’s an honor to speak with you, Mr. Porter,” he finally said, clearly trying to gauge what my intentions were.

  “As is with you, Matsuo,” I answered. “You see, the reason I’m calling is a particular friend we have in common by the name of Seth Mikaels.”

  He grew quiet once more. He was nervous.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, he’s gone missing and I want to find him,” I continued. I didn’t elaborate as to why or what I wanted him for because he didn’t need to know.

  “It’s been some time since I saw Mr. Mikaels,” he replied carefully.

  “Matsuo, I’m certain you’re used to living a certain way. You’re used to your wealth, your position, and your power, but there’s always room to grow or there’s a very long way to fall. You know my name. You know the kinds of things I’m capable of, so tell me. Who should I talk to in order to find out what I need to know?” I warned him, keeping my voice light. The threat was there though. If he didn’t comply, I could pull strings and destroy him.

  “You should schedule a meeting with Shinsato Takeo,” Matsuo finally answered.

  It was clear that Matsuo was Yakuza now and he’d just given me the name that was several rungs up the hierarchy to the top. No
w instead of five phone calls, I only had to make one more.

  “I haven’t made a call to my friend Kiyota Jiro yet, but I plan to soon if no clues turn up to where he’s gone,” I pressed. Kiyota was the kingpin of the Inagawa family.

  “Shinsato will connect you with the right people, Mr. Porter. I’m sure that you will be able to come to a favorable arrangement with him,” Matsuo answered, and the phone clicked dead.

  I dialed Shinsato right away so Matsuo wouldn’t have time to warn him.

  The phone call with Shinsato was even shorter. He paused when I introduced myself but recovered quickly. It was clear that he recognized the weight of my name just like Matsuo had but he gave away even less than his associate had, which made me even more suspicious of this group of five men.

  The Japanese mafia had an ironclad code of honor that followed justice and duty above all else. Even though I was a powerful man, I’d have to work to get the answers I wanted. I realized that meeting in person wasn’t going get anywhere, even if I tortured or threatened their families. I could try bribing them, but that likely wouldn’t work either. Like the samurai of old, they would die before sacrificing that honor.

  The next person I called was Kiyota, one of the biggest Yakuza kingpins in Japan. He was a close ally of mine. A number of years ago, he had a problem and I’d used my influence to make it go away. A Japanese politician was passing a number of sanctions that directly affected Kiyota’s companies, both legitimate and illegitimate, and it was starting to affect his profit margin. I solved it for him using my influence, as well as a few well-placed connections and warnings and ensured that the politician understood that if he continued, I would make his wealth and position disappear through whatever means necessary. The politician removed those sanctions the very next day.

  “Mr. Porter. It’s a delight to hear from you,” he said as he picked up the phone.

  “Kiyota-san,” I began, ensuring to add the appropriate title of respect. “I’m calling to ask for a favor. Do you know the name Seth Mikaels or Mikaels Communications and Data Systems?”

  “I’ve heard it before, but I’ve never done business with him,” he answered.

  “What about the name Shinsato Takeo? Does he work for you?” I asked next.

  “No. He doesn’t. But I can find out for you. Why do you want to know?” he questioned.

  “Seth Mikaels has gone missing. He’s a friend of mine,” I replied.

  “I see. I’ll reach out to my friend Nobu to see if Shinsato works for him,” he said. “Perhaps you should consider coming to Tokyo, my friend. We should share sake and play a round of cards.” He was talking about the biggest boss in all of Japan, Shinobu Tsukasa. He led the largest organization of Yakuza in the country, the Yamaguchi-gumi.

  “It’s likely I’ll be there very soon. Keep an eye out for my call,” I responded.

  “I will, Mr. Porter. I’ll let you know what I can find out about Mr. Mikaels and Shinsato Takeo,” he answered and the phone when dead.

  I looked at the list of shareholders once more and the name Kato Yoshito stuck out to me. Several years ago, I’d helped a number of men that were accused of being involved in a major insider trading racket ring. I’d intervened and made the problem disappear. After some digging into my own records, I realized that his brother had been one of the men I’d helped protect and I called him next. His name was Hamada Yoshito.

  Within the hour, the two of them were sitting in my office. I’d sent Brooke to my bedroom before they had arrived so I could cash in on the favor that Hamada owed me.

  “It is good to see you, Hamada,” I said as the two Japanese men looked back at me. They looked nervous and I did nothing to assuage that anxiety.

  “Mr. Porter-san,” he nodded. I noted that he added the title of respect for me. I’d left mine off on purpose in order to assert my authority.

  “It is nice to finally meet you,” Kato added.

  “Your brother is one of the major shareholders for Mikaels Communications and Data Systems,” I began, and Kato nodded in agreement.

  “Hamada,” I continued. “A number of years ago I told you that I could ask you a favor in return for the protection I afforded you. You agreed.”

  “I did,” he answered carefully.

  “Kato, this favor would involve you too. As a duty to your brother, I’d like to ask you a few questions. You will remain anonymous and I will pay you very handsomely for your answers,” I said. I would play on bribery and their sense of duty to get the answers I needed.

  Kato looked to his older brother for confirmation.

  “If Mr. Porter promises that you will be safe, his word is enough,” Hamada told him. “If we can help you, we will.”

  “Good. A friend of mine has gone missing. You know him, Kato. His name is Seth Mikaels and I have interest in finding him,” I replied.

  Kato’s face lost a little color.

  “I know this man as well,” Hamada said.

  “Do you?” I asked.

  “He does,” Kato answered.

  Hamada was quiet for a moment before his fingers reached for his throat. He unbuttoned several buttons of his shirt before he peeled it open, revealing the face of a blue dragon on the right of his chest. Kato did the same, only his tattoo was of a koi fish.

  “Who do the two of you work for?” I asked.

  “Nobu Tsukasa,” Hamada answered. I knew now that they worked for the largest mafia family in Japan, the Yamaguchi-gumi. Kato sighed and began to speak.

  “We weren’t given very many details, but Mr. Mikaels refused Nobu-san in a business deal not long ago. Because of this, Nobu ordered that Mr. Mikaels be taken. My brother and I, along with a few others, ensured that he left the country on a private jet routed to Tokyo last week,” Kato replied.

  “Is he alive?” I pressed.

  “He was when he left our hands,” Hamada answered.

  “Do you know where he was taken when he arrived in Tokyo?” I asked next.

  “We weren’t given that information, Mr. Porter-san. We were just tasked with getting him on the plane,” Kato said.

  “Thank you, Hamada, Kato. You’ve both have been exceedingly helpful. I will see to it that you are both rewarded handsomely for the information you shared with me. I will consider your favor repaid,” I said, and Hamada nodded with a smile.

  “It’s always an honor. I am pleased to consider you a friend,” he replied.

  No one wanted me as an enemy, but I didn’t say that.

  The two brothers took their leave after that, and I returned to my bedroom to let Brooke know that I’d finished my meeting. I filled her in on everything I had learned, and she showed me a list of deposits that had come from Japan over the years.

  There were a lot of them.

  My phone rang and it was Kiyota. He confirmed what I’d learned from the Yoshito brothers and I decided right then that Brooke and I were going to Japan.

  “Where would you recommend that I stay in Tokyo, Kiyota?” I asked.

  “I have the perfect place. When would you arrive?”

  “Tomorrow. I will leave within the hour. I’ll be bringing a guest,” I answered.

  “Consider it done. I look forward to seeing you, Mr. Porter-san,” Kiyota said.

  I hung up the phone and sent a few texts, letting my people know to prepare a flight path immediately.

  Brooke and I were going to take a trip on my private jet.

  Chapter Six

  Brooke

  For the first time in more than a day, I was allowed to wear clothes. Dominic gave me a beautifully sleek dress that vaguely hinted at a Japanese kimono design. I had no doubt that the garment was very expensive. It was white and patterned with a cherry blossom printed silk fabric. Underneath the dress, I wore a thin light pink set of lingerie, but they were so sheer that it almost felt like I was wearing nothing at all.

  My family had a lot of money and our own company jet, but the process to schedule a flight path was far more exten
sive than Dominic’s was. In less than an hour, Dominic and I were sitting inside the most elegant plane I’d ever set foot on. Takeoff was smooth, quick, and very simple. We’d buckled into our seats and within five minutes, the plane was up in the air and we were on our way to Japan. The flight itself was estimated to take just over fourteen hours and I was elated to find out that the oversized seats turned into beds at the press of a button.

  This plane took first class and made it look like economy. Every seat was made out of the softest cream-colored leather. The walls of the plane were decorated with rich wood and there was a fully stocked bar on one side. There was a couch and multiple tables and several large television screens broadcasting movies that were still in theaters. Everything was high end and I recognized several designer signatures in the making of a number of the furniture pieces inside the aircraft. This was likely one of the most expensive private planes in the world, if not the most.

  Dominic Porter could afford it. I couldn’t even hazard a guess at how many billions of dollars were under his control. The actual number was probably quite terrifying.

  There were no flight attendants and instead it was just the two of us. He poured me a glass of champagne and served me a meal that had been delivered for us when we’d arrived. It was a homemade Italian dinner of pasta, freshly baked garlic bread, sausage, and a great big salad complete with olives and big chunks of mozzarella cheese.

  “This will be a delicious treat before we’re inundated with more sushi and ramen than you can handle,” he said, and I giggled.

  “I happen to like both actually,” I replied.

  “Good,” he grinned, “because I like them both as well too.”

  After dinner, he served me another glass of champagne and I settled in to watch a movie. I’d been up for quite a while and by New York time, it was close to the hour when I would usually go to sleep. Dominic worked on his laptop and the two of us were quiet for a long time. Surprisingly, I found that I was enjoying his company.