“Then why didn’t she just say that?” he bellowed.

She poked him in the chest. “For that reason, right there.”

He couldn’t think of a damn thing to say as the elevator doors closed in his face.

• • •

THAT’S how Ronin found himself at the Ritz-Carlton at nine o’clock at night.

Maybe it’d been typical behavior for him, commanding his sister meet him in the bar. But she’d agreed, so he must not have been too much of a raging asshole.

He’d taken a booth in the corner and ordered. He’d barely had a chance to savor the subtle notes in the scotch before Shiori slid across from him.

The waiter was immediately tableside, wearing a big smile. “Ms. Hirano, it’s wonderful to have you back. What are you drinking this evening?”

Shiori pointed to Ronin’s glass. “Whatever he’s having.”

“The Highland Park 1958 single-malt scotch coming right up.”

“You’re hitting the good stuff tonight.”

“Life is too short to drink shitty scotch.”

She smiled. “You’ve developed a sophisticated palate simply because you don’t have to drink cheap, shitty scotch.”

“I’ll admit it’s an indulgence.”

Neither said anything until she received her drink.

Shiori raised her glass for a toast. “To the finer things in life—good booze and good company.”

Ronin touched his glass to hers and drank. “The last part is up in the air.”

“Lucky me, summoned when you’re in a lousy mood.”

“Then put me in a good mood. Tell me if you found out anything about Naomi’s accomplices.”

Shiori delicately sipped. “I spoke to Jenko. The protection business in Japan can be incestuous, so he knows the guy. Hiko Tamagachi. Jenko says he’s not surprised Hiko threw in with someone like Naomi.”

“That son of a bitch held Amery while that other fucker hit her. Hit her in the face,” he repeated as if Shiori didn’t know.

“Jenko has put the word out about what Hiko did and to whom. Trust me—Hiko’s protection days are over. At least with the clientele that used to hire him.”

“What else?”

“Nothing on the other guy. We’re betting the biker look was a disguise. As far as Naomi and her motivation to screw with you . . . we did a little digging and found out that after you put Naomi on an Okada jet to Tokyo almost four years ago, her family picked her up and she vanished. We also discovered her background had been completely fabricated—even our investigative team had been fooled.”

“That had to sit well with Grandfather,” he said dryly.

“Ronin, he didn’t know back then, and I’m not going to tell him now.”

“So you’re keeping it from him out of sibling solidarity?”

“Yes. Although I’m sure you find that hard to swallow.”

Just for an instant, Ronin saw a glimpse of his baby sister—the sweet-faced tomboy who’d trailed after him from the moment she could toddle along—and not the cut-throat business mogul she’d become.

“He wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere near such a psycho bitch. Ojisan adores you. I know you see everything he’s ever done as manipulation, but control isn’t his only motivation. He doesn’t show affection well, and he sees meddling in your life as a way to show he cares about you.”

“I’m starting to understand that. Go on.”

“But Ojisan’s reason for getting into business with Naomi’s family wasn’t solely for you; it greatly benefitted Okada too.” Shiori leaned forward. “Contrary to what Naomi told you, he never paid Naomi to be with you. He pulled a few strings with her visa to keep her in the United States with you, but that’s it.”

Part of Ronin had suspected Naomi lied about that, but he’d been too infuriated with his family to ask how much of what Naomi had told him was true. “Did it ever occur to you how fucking weird it is that Grandfather was so damn concerned about my romantic life? When he never married again after age twenty?”

Shiori rolled her eyes. “Why would he marry? Up until five years ago, he had four mistresses to satisfy him and our mother to tend to his social responsibilities.”

“How the hell did he keep four mistresses happy?”

“You should ask him.”

“No, thanks. Finish the Naomi story.”

“After she screwed things up with you, her family put her under lock and key. The only person she had contact with was . . .”

“Her friend Kiki.”

“Evidently after Kiki saw you with Amery, she immediately called Naomi in Japan. And Naomi dragged Hiko, her bodyguard, lover, and muscle for hire into her revenge drama. Cut to Kiki, who’d stored all of Naomi’s things after you’d sent her away so suddenly.”

“Does Kiki know where Naomi is now?”

“The PIs here questioned Kiki, and she swears she saw Naomi only briefly—long enough to give her the two boxes of stuff. After Ojisan found out about a potential blackmail situation, he personally contacted Naomi’s family and warned them if a single image surfaces anywhere in the world, he’d ruin them permanently. We both know he has the juice to back it up, so I don’t think Naomi will ever be a problem again.”

He bit back his question on how their grandfather had heard about the new situation. Had he gotten the same kind of package that Amery’s parents had? “Thank you for checking into all that for me. I hope you’re right.” He swirled the liquid in his glass. “You didn’t have an issue utilizing Okada’s resources even when you no longer work there?”

Shiori’s expression didn’t change. “So Mother told you that I’m unemployed?”

“Yes. I wondered why you were here for so long. And, yeah, I probably should’ve asked.”

“I believe you did. I believe I hedged.”

Ronin rested his forearms on the table. “What happened?”

“I wish I could blame Grandfather for unfair treatment, or that Okada got involved with a company that displayed poor business practices and I left in protest, but the truth is, I’m thirty-five, I’m single, and I’m tired of being alone.”

That jarred him.

“I work too much; my friends are all in relationships and have children. They look at me with envy because I can hop on a plane and go anywhere in the world. I look at them and think if I had a husband and a baby, I’d never leave home.” She held up her hand. “Please don’t say I don’t seem like the maternal type.”

“Shiori, I don’t know you well enough anymore to make that kind of observation.”

“Thank you.” She took a sip of her drink and sighed. “That scotch really is worth every penny. The only other time I’ve had it is at Ojisan’s house.”

Just another reminder he had absorbed some of his grandfather’s habits without conscious effort.

“Anyway, I realized on the night of my thirty-fifth birthday—which I spent alone incidentally—I’ve been trying to prove that I deserve the CEO status at Okada, and I lost sight of everything else. Within a week after all my doubts surfaced, I came across an inner-office memo I wasn’t supposed to see. Okada is trying to hire Inichi Matso away from Satzu to name him interim CEO because Grandfather wants to step down.”

“You have got to be shitting me.”

Shiori shook her head. “No, and here’s the reality: he would be excellent for Okada.”

“But that position has always been yours. Or at least your dream.”

“I realized I’m not ready for the top spot. Just because I’m Nureki Okada’s granddaughter doesn’t mean I deserve to take control. So if he offered it to me right now, I don’t think I’d take it. More work for the next forty years?” Shiori leaned forward. “Ojisan will be eighty-six. I don’t want to look back at my life when I’m his age and wonder what I’d done with it besides work. Even without our inheritance, I have more money than I can possibly spend. So I quit and came here, hoping you’d have wisdom to guide me through this. But I didn’t have the guts to even tell you the truth.”

“You’re totally screwed.”

“Fantastic. Thank you.”

“All joking aside, on a business level, I’ve made some changes with the dojo, but I wouldn’t have done it if not for Amery.” He met his sister’s gaze. “But on a personal level, I’ve had that same epiphany, wanting a life outside of being Sensei Black. Even with the new projects that I’ve taken on, it’d be ideal if I could hand off some responsibilities and enjoy having found this amazing woman who gets everything about me.”

Tears pooled in Shiori’s eyes. “I’m happy for you. I mean that. Amery is just what you need in your life.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Damn scotch.”

He hid his smile behind his glass.

“So does handing off some responsibilities mean I can keep teaching at Black Arts?”

“As long as you’re interested in taking on a supervisory role in training our advanced students too.”

“I noticed you’ve passed off all your upper-level classes to other instructors. The only reason you’d relinquish control was if you didn’t have a choice.” Her gaze sharpened. “What did the doctor say?”

Of course she’d pick up on that. Ronin was actually relieved to tell her everything. After he finished, he added, “Without coming across as self-serving, I’m glad you’re not gainfully employed, because I could use your help running the dojo.”

“What about Knox? He’s your second-in-command and general manager.”

“Knox is great with people—students, parents, all that glad-handing stuff I hate. Until I know if I’ll ever be able to return to contact training, I’ll need an advanced belt to teach my instructors and oversee their training methods. I trust you—not only because you’re my highest-ranking belt.”

“Then why?”

“Because we’re alike in many ways. Plus you do the hardass, dragon-lady bit so well.”