Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

Candice raises a brow. “And Sebastian played football, real football, in both high school and college.”

“It’s not real football, love. The real one has the right name. Foot and ball. Not hand and whatever ball.” He directs his smile at the interns. “Lunch later? I’m more generous than your current boss.”

My assistant taps her foot manically at this point. “Are you going to get out or should I call Mr. Weaver? The senior Mr. Weaver who owns this whole place.”

“Jesus, Candice. Does Sebastian pay you extra to hold down the fort in his absence?”

“I don’t, but I’ll start to.” I walk inside Candice’s office and both interns stand up in greeting, still flustered by my colleague’s advances.

I give a hand gesture, so they sit back down.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?” Daniel jumps off from the desk, not bothering to hide his displeasure.

“You are.” Candice directs her no-nonsense gaze at me. “You should be resting.”

“I have important things to do. But first, Candice, take Kate and Omar to a late breakfast.”

My assistant gives Daniel the side-eye as if telling him, ‘See?’

“Hey, not fair—”

Daniel hasn’t finished his sentence when I grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him with me into my office.

As I kick the door shut, he pulls away and fixes his jacket, grumbling, “I’m suing you for assault.”

“Really? Physical assault because I dragged you?”

“No. Assault against fashion. The envy is real, mate.”

“Is that why you were trying to take my interns?”

“I was getting back what should’ve been originally mine. You stole them.”

“Don’t admit defeat then. Now, tell me how far you’ve gotten with information on Akira Mori?”

Daniel sits on the chair’s armrest and fingers the pencils on my desk. “The man is a sodding fort. There’s nothing to get.”

“How about Knox?”

“He doesn’t have much either. Just some shady transactions here and others there, which he only managed to get info about by pulling strings back home. His foster father doesn’t like digging into his partners’ personal lives.”

“So he’s spotless?”

“Legally? Squeaky clean.”

“Morally?”

“He has dubious relations with the Yakuza, but they use phantom LLCs all the time. So even if there’s a legal way to prove involvement, it’ll take decades—that is if you stay alive during the process.”

Fuck.

All this time, I had some sort of hope that Akira could be taken care of legally.

Or at least, he could be hurt.

“What’s your deal with Akira, anyway?” Daniel tilts his head. “This whole thing can’t be because you want to secure a client. You don’t even search for new people like Knox and me, who, by the way, are always on hunting missions for fresh blood.”

I’ve gone on a hunt, countless times, but it was never for a client.

“It’s the wife, isn’t it?” He grins, a sly one that makes the sharp lines of his face harsher.

“She’s not his wife.” Or at least, she won’t be soon.

“I always wondered who would be your type. Never thought it would be a married woman.”

“And what’s your type? A skirt?”

“Brunettes in a skirt. Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“A blonde broke your heart?”

His lips twist in what resembles disgust before he smirks. “Not as much as Akira’s wife broke yours.”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Hit a nerve? This shit’s got my interest piqued and I need the inside scoop. Which of the rumors is true?”

“What rumors?”

“They say you broke her heart in college and she married someone more powerful than you and threw it in your face.”

“That’s not true.”

“Pity. I would’ve done that.” His usually joyous features scrunch into a frown. “If someone betrayed me, I’d make sure to slowly destroy their lives until they fell to their knees at my feet.”

“Someone betrayed you? Is it the blonde?”

“Maaaybe.” He shakes his head, seeming to pull himself out of a trance. “But this isn’t about me. This is about you and your Japanese princess. Sorry, I mean, Akira Mori’s princess.”

“Call her that again and I’ll punch your face so hard, no doctor will be able to put it back together.”

“Bloody hell, mate. Not the face! This shit is real estate.”

“Then don’t make me destroy it.”

“I’m just warning you so you don’t get yourself and us in trouble. If you’re gone, Nate won’t have his beloved prince and we won’t have anyone to throw under the bus when we screw up.”

I raise a brow but say nothing.

“Anyway, do what you like, but don’t forget who Akira Mori is. He might be new to the States, but he’s something entirely different internationally. The Mori family is very influential domestically. Not only because of their bloodline, but also because they have direct relations with the emperor of Japan and other business tycoons across Asia. And let’s not forget his recent black diamond fortune that I told you about.”