Dirty, Dirty Liars [Mature/Editing]

[24] 二十四

That night, Ryuzo tried to break every item in his house. As I sighed, another dish went flying toward the wall of the kitchen.

Jiji sat on the countertop, watching amusedly like the demon she was. In my arms, Susu clung to my shirt for comfort, flinching with the sounds that were little more than a tantrum to me.

"Ryuzo . . ." I half scolded, half called for his attention. Another plate smashed into pieces against the wall, making Susu bury her little head in my chest. I was at my limit. "Ryuzo!"

He stopped, still fuming, but hiding much more beneath his anger.

"Are you still breaking shit, or can we use our words like adults?"

He stood still, his eyes pinned to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said. "There is a lot I should explain."

"Yeah, no shit." It was difficult to hide my bad mood, even though I knew Ryuzo wasn't the cause of it. "That man. The boss. He isn't just the oyabun, he's your father."

Ryuzo looked up at me with shame. "Yes."

"Why did you not tell me?"

He shook his head with disappointment. "That is not something we share with the public. By the time I knew I could trust you . . . I no longer wanted to scare you away."

He fell for me. Had I known, would it have stopped me from falling for him? "So, what does this mean? What does that make you?"

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the countertop.

"We are well past the point of you not telling me shit anymore. Talk."

With a heavy breath, he unglued his feet from the floor, circling the island and slumping onto the stool next to me. He scratched Susu's ear to reassure her and avoid my gaze. "Osamu Yokoyama is oyabun of the Fujiwara-kai. I am his son. His only son."

"But that doesn't mean anything on its own, right? He demoted you all the way to the restaurant."

"My father wanted to show I have to earn my rank like everyone else, but in name, I will always be part of the Fujiwara-Yokoyama line."

His explanation made me shake my head in disbelief. "You told me you planned to get out."

"I do."

"And in what world would that be possible when you're the fucking heir, Zo?!"

The light behind his eyes dimmed. He leaned onto the counter and hung his head in his hands.

"I didn't mean to say it that way. I'm just . . . lost," I comforted him. "Did you really believe your plan would work?"

Ryuzo lifted his head, combing his fingers into his hair to hold it out of his face. The sadness in his eyes was too much. I had seen it in him and the men I grew up with — the desperation to break a damning generational chain, while the world did everything it could to make that impossible.

"He was losing faith in me," he said. "I thought he would give up, choose to adopt one of his officers to carry on the name instead, but he must have figured out what I was doing. Now that he knows about you, he has the perfect leverage to make me do what he wants."

The worst type of flattery. "Baby, no. He only has that power of you if you let him. There has to be something we can do."

He contemplated my words for a moment, then said, "Leave tonight."

"What? How?"

"Call your company and tell them to place you somewhere else."

I wanted to laugh. "It doesn't work like that."