Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Kevin’s jaw dropped, but Nathaniel bulled on without waiting for him to argue. “I told him we are well aware we are Moriyama investments and that we are content to exist as such.” Nathaniel smiled with so much ice Jean thought the room dropped a few degrees. The adrenaline rush of what he’d survived, of the trick he’d managed to play on a too-powerful man, was going to his head. It was the same arrogance that made him defy Riko over and over again despite knowing it was going to come back on him and his team.
“We talked numbers: what Kevin was worth before and after his injury, what kind of money endorsements bring in, what professional athletes make on average…” Nathaniel gave a casual wave of his hand to indicate the whole deal. “Because we fell under Coach Moriyama’s thumb, the money was originally going to him to feed his pet projects. I suggested we pay it back to Ichirou instead.
“He needs it,” he insisted when Kevin looked like he was going to get off the bed and flee the room. “Not even I understand my father’s full reach, but everything he had is falling apart now that the FBI is picking through the wreckage. Even if Ichirou allies with my uncle for more access to Europe, he’s losing money hand over fist. Money that we are happy to give back to him if he’ll wait for us.”
“He agreed,” Nathaniel said. “It’s eighty percent of our earnings from the time we make pro until… retirement? I didn’t ask,” he admitted. “I’d pushed my luck enough I didn’t want to imply there’d be an end to the arrangement. What matters is that the deal is for all three of us. I agreed I would hash it out with you and that there’d be no problem. There isn’t one, right?
“It’s not a pardon and it’s not really freedom, but it’s protection,” Nathaniel said. “We’re assets for the main family now. The King’s lost all his men and there’s nothing he can do about it without crossing his brother. We’re safe—for good.”
He said it so easily, like he genuinely believed it. Jean buried his face in his hands and dug his fingernails into his temples. This was a nightmare; it had to be a nightmare. In no reality would Ichirou Moriyama have met with an insignificant brat like Nathaniel Wesninski or been swayed by the self-importance that Riko tried so hard to beat out of him. It went beyond reason to think this was real and that Ichirou fully intended to steal his brother’s toys. Jean refused to believe it, because if he even stopped to consider what it meant—
The door closing sounded very final, but the weight by his side remained. Kevin touched Jeans’ elbow and said, “Look at me.”
“No,” Jean said. “I am a Moreau. I am a Raven. I know my place. I won’t agree to this.”
“It’s done,” Kevin said. “You do not have a say in it.”
“You did this to us,” Jean accused him as Kevin finally pried his hands away from his face. “You should have beat this wildness out of him once you learned his name.”
“I couldn’t,” was the weary response. “Everyone who has tried to tame him has failed.”
Jean cursed long and low in French and yanked out of Kevin’s grip. If he’d only stayed at Evermore, he wouldn’t have gotten roped into this deal. He’d damned himself back in January, knocking down the first domino the moment he responded to Renee. How appropriate, how in character, that a pretty face had fucked him over yet again. Jean ought to gouge his own eyes out so he’d never be tempted again, but without his eyes he couldn’t play, and if he couldn’t play—
“Riko cannot move against Ichirou,” Kevin told him, low and insistent. “The master will kill him if he even suspects Riko might. Neither of them can hurt you ever again without damaging Ichirou’s property. Do you understand?”
“The deal is that I play,” Jean shot back. “It didn’t say in what state. If Riko wants to—”
Jean’s hand came up too late to snatch the words out of the air. He froze with his fingers on his mouth, staring at Kevin and through him as he prayed Kevin would just let it slide. The intensity of Kevin’s stare said he wasn’t that lucky, and Jean’s fist came down hard on his own side immediately. The white-hot burst of pain seared away any other reckless words he might have said, leaving him gasping for breath even as Kevin slammed him into the headboard by his shoulders.
“Don’t,” Kevin warned him. “You cannot lie to me, Jean. Stop trying.”
He couldn’t lie, but he still had to. It was the only way to stay alive. They both knew who was hurting Jean, and Kevin had been there for far too much of it, but it had been years since Jean last acknowledged it. It was easier to just bow his head and accept it. What happened to him month after month, year after year, was simply the price of being a Moreau. To assign blame was to breed resentment, and resentment would only break him. There was no getting away; there was only getting through.