The Secrets of Their Souls (6 page)

My ears pricked up, it was distant but I could hear it: the sound of a horse’s hoofs on the dirt road. I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my knife but I kept walking. When the gallop slowed to a trot, I stopped and turned around. The night was bright enough that I could see his face and he smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Who are you?” I replied, my hand not leaving my knife.

He dismounted his horse. “My name is Scythas. I serve Queen Keres.”

I looked at him warily; he hadn’t been at the village or I would have recognized him. Nor did he have a single wound on him, and I hadn’t left anyone standing. So what did he want with me?

“I stopped in for a cup of wine, arriving just in time to see your performance. And quite a performance it was. Not wanting my neck to be next, I stood outside until you finished. Who trained you?”

He remained by his horse, but I wouldn’t be tricked. If he served the queen, this man was dangerous. I answered him with, “I trained myself.”

He looked surprised. “You’ve had a lot of practice, then. What is your name?”

“Raven.” I gave it to him because it wasn’t my real name; I had left that behind along with my past.

“And where are you going now, Raven?” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “You could become a very powerful, very wealthy woman, Raven. Go to the Kingdom and when you reach the Capital, ask for me. If you make it there alive, I promise you a place by my side to serve the queen.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“You’ve got to make it there alive first. If you can do that, and based on what I’ve seen tonight, you’re worthy to serve.” He mounted his horse, bowed his head and then rode off into the night.

I watched him until he disappeared. I was already headed to the Kingdom but now I had a purpose and a goal:

I would be the best, most menacing servant Queen Keres would ever have.

They would all fear me.

His mind was like a desolate merry-go-round, his eyes refusing to close even for a second. Jayce lay in bed, his naked chest warm beneath the covers, and once again Zahra Foster preoccupied his every thought. He’d dropped her off at home on the way back to Mason and she hadn’t left his mind since. He was breaking his cardinal rule of no inter-office dating because as they say: you shouldn’t shit where you eat. But, he knew for certain now that she could keep her emotions out of it because he’d witnessed her do it at MIRROR. Something happened in the elevator on the way up, something very strange. When she’d looked up at him, she gasped like she’d seen a ghost. Her skin went pale and clammy and she kept looking around like she expected to see something, or someone. For a moment he thought he would have to take her home, but she recovered quickly. Yes, Zahra was extremely good at hiding her emotions. He still didn’t know what to make of that freak-out and despite turning it over in his mind all night, no reasonable explanation came to him.

There was also one other major issue to consider when it came to Zahra, and that was his father. Mr. Tohmatsu Senior was going to be very displeased with this new development in Jayce’s life and it would cause him to doubt Jayce’s commitment to Mason Corp. Jayce knew this and the consequences of it but even still, for some unexplainable reason, Jayce couldn’t leave Zahra alone. He had hoped that their date might give him some clues as to why she had the effect on him that she did, but he had once again come up empty handed.

One thing that their date did reveal, though, was that she drove him wild. Not touching her at MIRROR disclosed a level of self-control he didn’t even realize he possessed, and he was thankful for the wine glass that kept his hands occupied and in his lap. She wasn’t unaffected by him either, which pleased him immensely. Her body reacted every time he touched her and he knew that sex with her would be electric. He was hard just thinking about her, but when he looked at his alarm clock, he knew he couldn’t lie in bed and fantasize about her any longer—he had a business to run.

Jayce stepped into the shower. Water gullied from the ceiling and he angled his head up, letting the warm droplets smash into his face. The thundering noise deprived his senses, proving a short escape from his mind.
I could stay here all day
, he thought, but only a minute later turned off the shower and stepped onto the warm bathroom tiles. He wrapped the dark gray towel around his waist and patted the shaving cream onto his skin. The cold, hard blade ran over his skin, his hands well practiced—not a single nick.

His breakfast, purchased from the Mason café, had all the qualities of a future cholesterol-induced heart attack. He had always eaten a clean Japanese diet, even when living in London, but since being in New York, he had become slack and rationalized his daily espresso paired with a bacon-and-egg muffin for breakfast with the excuse of convenience. Jayce vowed in that moment that it would be his last one, and tomorrow he would clean up his diet. If he was going to accomplish all of his goals, he would need a healthy, nutrient fueled body. He thanked the woman behind the counter and then, juggling his coffee, the brown bag and his briefcase, he headed for the elevators.

Six paces ahead of him, and also headed for the elevators, was Joshua Anderson, head of finance, and just the man he wanted to see.

“Josh,” Jayce called out.

The man turned on his heels when he heard his voice. “We’re almost done,” he said, preempting the conversation.

Jayce smiled. It was a good start to his day. A full, detailed audit was a time consuming and therefore expensive task but one Jayce deemed necessary if he was going to restructure the company. “That makes me very happy to hear. How are we looking?”

Josh spoke slowly, seeming to choose his words carefully. “I think there are some areas in particular that you will want to review more closely.” He tucked his hands into his jeans, as if that might end the conversation. Saturdays were casual days at the Mason office, but Jayce couldn’t bring himself to wear anything but a suit to work; it just didn’t feel right otherwise.

She walked into his peripheral vision and his eyes flickered to her. Zahra must have seen him standing in the center of the lobby and he wished he could read her mind right at that moment. Was she still thinking about last night? He hoped so because he was.

“I suppose I should look at it like a blessing rather than money we’ve been flushing down the drain,” Jayce joked, forcing himself to concentrate on the conversation at hand. “Thank you for all your hard work and make sure you enjoy the rest of the weekend.”

Over the past week, Jayce and Josh had kept a similar schedule, leaving Mason in the early hours of the morning and returning just a few hours later. Jayce was used to the sleep deprivation, but he figured his poor colleague would need to spend the next week in bed to recover. Jayce expected a lot from all of his staff and he didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for pushing them beyond their limits. It was what made them great, it was what made them better than others.

In his office, Jayce breezed past Olivia, not failing to note her sheer blouse.

He had a pile of work that required his immediate attention, but there was one pressing task he needed to complete first. He dialed Zahra’s extension:

“Good morning, Jayce.”

“You look beautiful this morning,” he said.

She laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Were you harassing Josh this morning or just talking?”

He smirked. She already knew him well. “Just a friendly chat… there’s no need for harassment when you make deadline, is there?”

“I suppose not,” Zahra said.

He leaned back in his chair and disclosed the purpose of his call. “So, it occurred to me this morning that if we’re going to try this dating thing, that I’m going to need your number.”

“Don’t you have it already?”

She was referring to the staff directory so yes, he did have it, but he thought he would do the gentlemanly thing and ask her for it. “I want you to give it to me.”

“Sure,” she said and then rattled off the digits. He scribbled them down and drew a box around the number.

“Thank you. I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you.” He was smiling as he spoke.

“I look forward to that call. Bye, Jayce.”

Knock-knock.

She didn’t waste any time
, Jayce thought, his hand still on the receiver. “Come in.”

Olivia opened the door and walked to his desk. On further review, not only was her blouse sheer, her breasts were bulging from her lace bra; Olivia had interpreted casual day as whore day. He said nothing, though, and kept his eyes on her face.

She deposited a stack of reports and a page of messages onto his desk. This generation’s ability to communicate twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week could be a curse if it wasn’t managed properly.

“Thank you. What time will you be here until?” Saturday was not officially a work day, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect his employees to be in the office for a few hours at least.

She leaned forward, resting her hands on top of the chair that sat opposite his desk. “As long as you need me,” she said, not breaking eye contact.

Was she hitting on him?
This is going to be a problem
, Jayce thought. “I’ll let you know, but you should be fine to go after the finance reports come through,” he said.

“Good. I’ll leave you to it.” She lingered for a second, not long enough to be uncomfortable but long enough to communicate her unspoken words—she was definitely hitting on him. He didn’t ask her to stay nor did he look at her tits, but he did look at her ass as she left—he was a man, after all.

Olivia dwelled around well after the finance reports had come through, but Jayce barely noticed. For years he had resented his disciplined childhood, his military-like routine of study, school, work and sleep. Now, however, he was grateful for it—his level of discipline was superseded only by his father’s.

11:00 p.m.

Jayce loaded his briefcase with documents and cleaned his desk. His was meticulous about leaving it organized for the next day—another of his father’s lessons. And now he had one last call to make before he left.

His brother picked up the phone. “Konnichiwa.”

“Kyoji, what’s happening?”

“I’m taking a nap with a beautiful Swede beside me. What are you doing, little brother?”

“A Swede, huh? Nice,” Jayce said. “I’m at the office. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Rebecca all day but her phone is going straight to voice mail. Can you please go by the club tonight? I need to speak to her.” Rebecca O’Sullivan was a stripper with a perky ass and a great boob job. She was also the closest thing Jayce had had to a relationship. He called her when he needed a release and she was always willing. It was uncomplicated and she demanded nothing of him and, until now, it had been the perfect arrangement.

“She’s not answering? She’s probably asleep, since she’s been working a lot lately. I’m going there tonight anyway so I’ll track her down, but why do you need to speak to that pussy so urgently?”

Jayce shook his head. Kyoji was the king of crass. “She has a few days off next week and was going to come to New York. I need to cancel.” Jayce knew that his answer wasn’t going to satisfy his brother.

“Any why do you need to cancel?”

“Because… I’m seeing someone else,” Jayce said.

Silence. “What? Seeing someone, as in dating someone? You never date, so why her?”

“Because this one is different. There’s something about her, something special,” Jayce said.

“Who is she?”

“Zahra Foster. She’s the lead interior designer at Mason.” Jayce scrunched up his face in anticipation of his brother’s reaction.

Kyoji howled with laughter. “I’m floored. Dating, and someone from work. Good job, Jayce,” Kyoji said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just do me a favor and track down Rebecca.”

Jayce heard another door close and then Kyoji said, “I will and if we’re done, I’m going back to bed. You should see the tits on this Swede.”

Jayce smiled. “Where is
your
girlfriend, Kyoji?”

“Don’t kill my mood, Jayce. I’ll call you soon,” Kyoji said and hung up.

In satirical contrast, Kyoji and Aoto’s upbringing couldn’t have been more different from Jayce’s. Sheltered from his father’s sinful and corrupt past, Jayce had been raised within the walls of Tohmatsu Corp. His brothers had been raised where there were no walls; on the hard and fast streets of Tokyo, their young eyes privy to the basement dealings of Japan’s most successful bars and restaurants. Jayce’s negotiations involved accountants, lawyers and contracts; their negotiations involved cash, guns and—more often than not—blood.

Mr. Tohmatsu Senior had once been a very bad man—a murderous, violent businessman—until he met Jayce’s mother. He’d told Jayce that she was a gift from God. Jayce’s mother, Eva, had been strikingly beautiful but she had also been vivacious with a sharp mind. She had changed his stepfather’s life, made a man out of him. Slowly over the next few years, he left behind the only world he’d ever known and started Tohmatsu Corp: funded by gang money and built on hard work, sweat, failure, and persistence.

For a few moments, Jayce sat with his eyes on the multicolor skyline. From the outside, success, and life itself, seemed to run in a straight line, but in reality, behind closed doors, it was a mess of detours with high peaks and low troughs. Eventually we get to the intended destination. His father’s path had been that way, and his, so far, had too. And Jayce knew, sitting there alone that night, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The plush pink couch molded to the contours of her body and Zahra struggled to keep her eyes open. Why had she agreed to go to this cooking class with Jemma? After a long week and zero sleep last night, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and drift off into a peaceful, dream-free slumber.

“Do you think I’m overdressed?” Jemma asked as she walked out from her bedroom. Zahra lifted her head just enough to take a look at her sister who was dressed in jeans, heels and a T-shirt with sequined cap sleeves.