Kia Ora...

We've switched to daylight savings time here in NZ which always heralds the beginning of warmer weather as the days get longer. It also means that we're heading into the final term of school before it breaks for the summer...or for my youngest, its the lead to the big 'OMG I've only got one more year at high school' realisation which is then closely followed by her panicking about university. And actually university is something that I'm considering returning too as well. I graduated a few years back with a BA in Chinese, and now I'm considering going back to do a Graduate Diploma in Media studies. It will hopefully give me a better understanding and a few more skills around marketing, especially when it comes to social media platforms which I don't think I utilise very efficiently.

Update

• Deception (Nagoya Crimes 1): This is currently sitting at 35k and has about another 20-30k to go. So far it is definitely on the darker end of my writing style with a very obsessive love and a good dollop of angst - a very big dollop. All going well it should be finished by the end of the month.
• Have started the second book in the House of Bolton Series - Stitched Together - this one is also MF, but the third book - Rough Sketches - will be MM (undercover cop x mafia, enemies to lovers, bisexual awakening. It was originally planned to be released fourth, but the characters are very eager to get their story told.
• And because not everyone likes to use Facebook or join groups, I've started posting snippets on Verve, and I'll also be doing sales announcements etc there too.

Caught - Chapter Eighteen

“Kill me? You could never do it.”

Takeshi drew in a deep breath, heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the man who’d stood beside him and had acted like the dutiful, loyal, right-hand man. Heard the words for what they were. A challenge. A dismissal. A display of arrogant power. Heard too what Yoshitake hadn’t bothered to deny, that the attack at the club had been engineered by him. For that alone he should kill Yoshitake, but then it would leave Takeshi with questions that could never be answered, and he wanted those answers. Wanted to know why Yoshitake had killed his father.

“Then you’d better make sure to not give me a reason to prove me wrong,” he threatened. “Because you’re fucking me won’t save your life if I find proof that it was you who killed my father, Take.”

Yoshitake grinned at him, thin lipped and fox-like while his eyes didn’t burn with desire or respect but disdain. Had their whole relationship been nothing but a lie? Takeshi seen as nothing more than a foolish boy taken in by the kind words of an older man whose only aim had been to gain control of Shirokawa-gumi. He’d hated that his father had sent him away without Yoshitake at his side even if had learnt valuable lessons while working under Ogawa. And now, he wondered if that anger had been misplaced, only showing how ignorant he was to the games played amongst men in their world.

And maybe he should never have returned to Osaka.

“If you can’t kill me now, Keshi… then you’ll never manage to do it,” Yoshitake sneered as he shouldered past Takeshi. “You’re nothing more than a stupid boy who is easily led by his cock and believes in fanciful things like love that doesn’t exist in a world stepped in blood and death and destruction.”

He didn’t believe love was a fanciful notion. Didn’t believe the darkness that inhabited their world prevented love from happening. Takeshi didn’t expect to be all flowers, chocolate, and beautiful weddings…didn’t want it to be. Love could be dark. It could be dangerous, deadly, and tainted.

Takeshi grabbed Yoshitake before he’d disappeared out of the kitchen and slammed him against the wall. He sneered at the man who in the space of minutes had become like a stranger to him and wrapped a hand around the mans’ throat, squeezing tight. Disappointed him a little that Yoshitake didn’t fight back, wanting nothing more than an excuse to get rougher with the man.

“Your wrong. About all of it.,” he hissed it, tightening his grip and grinning when fear finally flickered through Yoshitake’s eyes. “Love can and does exist amongst the death and blood of our world. I’ve seen it in all its twisted glory… but whatever fairy tale romance you’d once wished for, that doesn’t exist. Never has. Never will. We aren’t men who want roses…we want the heads of our enemies.”

“And would my head satisfy you then?”

“Are you saying that you’re my enemy, Take?”

“I’m not admitting to anything.”

“No, you don’t need to. Not when your silence speaks volumes for itself.” Takeshi sighed, digging his fingernails into Yoshitake’s neck harder enough to leave half-moons behind. He tossed the man to the floor and placed a foot on his neck when Yoshitake tried to scramble off it. “And when the time comes for me take your head, don’t think I won’t hesitate to do it.”

“And I repeat… if you can’t kill me now, Keshi, then you never will.”

Takeshi scowled at the man and pressed down harder with his foot until the man gasped for breath before finally releasing the pressure. His anger hadn’t abated, while his desires swung between wanting to kill the old bastard or beg the man to fuck him until this whole conversation was forgotten. And yet it couldn’t be forgotten.

He clenched his fists and then stormed off to his bedroom. Killing Yoshitake could wait, he needed to check in with Kennosuke and find out what the man had learned.

Regardless of what Yoshitake had tried to tell him, the only people he could trust right now were those who’d once warred with his family.

*

Yoshitake watched at Takeshi stormed out of the kitchen, anger billowing around him like an extra layer of clothing while he lay on the floor gasping for breath. Age wasn’t a kind beast, made one weak and more susceptible to failure. Not that Yoshitake believed he’d failed, but the five bruises forming on his neck suggested that if he wasn’t careful, failure wouldn’t be far off.

He’d underestimated Takeshi.

Underestimated the man’s desire to seek revenge for his father’s death.

Underestimated his ability to kill…him, that was.

He’d grown too arrogant. Too cocksure that Takeshi would be easily pushed over and manouevered around the board like a shoji piece, acting in a manner that suited Yoshitake’s end game. But the rules had changed, and Yoshitake needed to master them quickly if he was to stave off an embarrassing defeat.

About the only thing he hadn’t underestimated was Takeshi’s feelings for him. He hadn’t been wrong in his assertion that Takeshi couldn’t kill him, not even once the truth came out. Bloodied heads might be favoured over flowers, but his wouldn’t be the gift Takeshi wanted to receive, nor take for himself.

Sighing, he pushed off the floor and dusted himself off. Stepping out of the kitchen he paused in the hallway and stared at Takeshi’s bedroom door. His body and mind were conflicted, one wanting to fuck the anger and mistrust out of Takeshi while the other argued that his time would be better spent forging ahead with his plan.

His mind won.

Yoshitake turned away from Takeshi’s bedroom and strode out of the house, climbing into the waiting vehicle. He could add another twist to their dangerous relationship later, but right now Yoshitake needed to get his men under control before another mistake like tonight happened, and one that might not end as luckily.

********************************************

MF - Bisexual Character - Melbourne, Australia - Mafia x Fashion Designer

Espionage is a dangerous business. Reputations can be ruined, companies destroyed, and your darkest secrets revealed. But Aliya’s life wasn't supposed to be caught in the firing line... and neither was her heart.

Posing as Everett Bolton’s PA, Aliya Sutton planned to uncover the reason behind the rapid success of House of Bolton within the highly competitive fashion industry in Melbourne. Success that puzzled her more when it became obvious Everett Bolton knew nothing about the industry. Fashion was a game to him. To Aliya it was everything.

But there are some secrets that shouldn’t be uncovered, and when Everett’s world crashes hard into hers, Aliya might need to rely on the one person she really shouldn’t trust.

Who said fashion wasn’t a dangerous business?

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