Page 113 of Brutal Unionn
“You’ll do no such thing,” my father snaps. “Killing a man with his hands tied is dishonorable.”
Kenshiro Mori, master archer and stickler for tradition, nods. “Most dishonorable.”
Haragi throws me to the floor. As I steady myself, I scan the room—every family is here.
Tanabe, burn-scarred and deceptively jolly. Suda, skeletal poison master. Hanamura, dressed in silk and dripping madness. Nakagawa, the youngest, all black gloves and Western steel.
And at the center, my father—the emperor among sick fucks and killers.
All six stare at Nadia with different versions of the same hunger—curiosity, malice, and doubt twisted together behind barely concealed smiles. They don’t see her as human. Not yet. They see her as spectacle, as leverage, as bait in whatever game my father is staging.
My father made a fatal mistake, bringing me to a room full of my enemies all at once. Sure, the first time I killed the heads of all the six families I did so slowly. It took me two years, but right now, everyone besides my beloved queen is going to meet their maker. It's just not fair that I won’t be able to savor this moment.
“Teki-darake no heya ni watashi o ireru nante, daitandesu ne,”How bold of you to put me in a room full of enemies.I hum, clicking my tongue at the irony of this moment. “You think I won’t kill you all now.”
Kenshiro Miro laughs boisterously. “The boy thinks because Bhon trained him that he can fight like him! Nencho-sha o sonkei suru!”Respect your elders!
“Watashi no jidai no shonen-tachi wa, sono yona tsumiwookasu to shita o kira rerudarou!”Boys from my era would have their tongues cut out for committing such a sin!Tanabe screams red in the face.
“Come on this isn’t fair, father,” I say, dragging myself into an upright position on my knees. “You are going to put me against all these old fucks, and Haragi? Don’t I deserve a better challenge?”
“You deserve death,” he hisses, the lines on his face are etched with disappointment, as he moves to fix the collar of his traditional dress. “But my future wife would never forgive me. Right Nadia?”
Nadia doesn’t lift her head.
She stays bowed, composed, not a single muscle twitching beneath that elegant, lethal frame of hers. Her voice slices clean through the room, soft but firm—each word wrapped in silk and blade.
“Yes, Takeda-sama,” she says, still looking at the floor. “ I am honored by your mercy on my account.”
I stare at her. Nothing. Not even a glance.
My gut twists, tight and bitter. She doesn’t look at me. Won’t. And I don’t know what burns worse—that she’s refusing to meet my eye in front of him… or that I don’t know if it’s strategy or surrender. I can only assume she does this to keep Mia and me alive while we’re in my father’s clutches.
Takeda’s smug silence stretches across the room like a shadow. I can feel him gloating without even having to look. The others—those wrinkled, brittle relics who call themselves the Yakuza council—they murmur in approval, like jackals waiting for the weakest of the pack to bleed.
I drag in a breath through my nose. My knees ache against the tatami, but I ignore the pain. I’m used to it. What I’m not used to is the cold that’s spreading through my chest, creeping like rot under my ribs.
Takeda turns to the council, his voice steeped in arrogance. “You see? Even the daughter of the Bratva shows proper deference, after a proper lesson in torture. Unlike the bastard I raised.”
My mind races with the possibility because if Nadia only has the red mark of the knife from a few days ago, that torture lesson must have been done on someone else—hopefully just a threat before he did it to her. A warning before he turned his attention to me or worse, Mia.
I clench my jaw so hard it aches. My nails dig into my palms, biting into the tender skin, and I force myself to keep my head down. Not in respect. Not in defeat. But because I know if I look up—if I so much as twitch—someone’s going to die, and I don’t know if I can afford that right now.
“You have the Bratva, father,” I say through gritted teeth. “You have me in chains. You really need a child as well?”
He inhales sharply, only to exhale in such a boisterous manner, my body shakes as I remember those moments as a child when the last set of lashings hit my spine. I was always good at knowing when he felt his point was made.
“You’re right. I don’t need Mia,” he smiles, all yellow teeth and soulless eyes. “I could sell her to Mori. He loves new toys for target practice."
“No,” Nadia rushes out. “You promised me for her. Release her. A queen’s ransom. That is what you said.”
My father leans forward, spit flying out of his mouth as he speaks. “You think a whore like you is worth the ransom of a queen?”
The room erupts in laughter and I can see the anger rise inNadia’s body as she sits up on her heels, back straight for the first time since I entered this room.
“What am I worth to you, Takeda-sama?” she asks, her voice so calm it makes the hair on my arms rise. A whisper, yes—but the kind right before a storm levels a city.
He laughs harder, like she’s just proven his point. His face reddens, breath wheezing in from too many years of smoke and sin. When he finally steadies himself, he leans in, grin sickening and smug.
