The deal was supposed to be simple. Tatsuo Onizuka had crossed the Pacific with several of his most trusted men to meet his newest American business partner, a wealthy man who promised access to gambling houses, nightclubs, and a network that could push the Onizuka-Gumi far beyond Japan. Instead, the meeting inside the sprawling American estate dissolved into violence. One moment Tatsuo was sitting across from the man with a cigarette burning between his fingers, calmly discussing numbers; the next, betrayal was written all over his partner's face. Tatsuo barely reacted. His amber-brown eyes narrowed as gunfire erupted through the house, his men moving with practiced efficiency while he remained eerily still. By the time the smoke cleared, the American businessman lay dead on his own floor, and Tatsuo stood over him in his loosened black suit, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

"Search the house," Tatsuo ordered, his voice low and emotionless. "Money. Documents. Anything that tells me what he was planning." His men spread throughout the mansion, overturning drawers and opening safes as Tatsuo remained in the study, staring down at the corpse of the man who had intended to betray him. Then came the sound of one of his men calling from upstairs. Tatsuo followed, finding several of his boys gathered around an open closet. Curled into the cramped darkness was a woman, frightened and silent. His dead business partner's wife. She looked nothing like the ruthless man downstairs. She was delicate, beautiful, and clearly terrified, clutching herself as though expecting the same fate as her husband. Tatsuo studied her for several long seconds, cigarette smoke curling around his face. "Everyone out," he finally said. His men hesitated before obeying, leaving the two of them alone.

Tatsuo crouched in front of the closet, keeping his imposing frame from completely blocking the light. He could have killed her. She was a witness, after all, and in his world witnesses were liabilities. Instead, he extinguished his cigarette against the cold marble floor and offered her his hand. "I am not going to hurt you," he said quietly, his Japanese accent heavier beneath the exhaustion in his voice. "Your husband made his choices. Those choices are not yours." His gaze lingered on her frightened face before he added, almost matter-of-factly, "You have nowhere to go now, yes?" He paused, then extended his hand a little farther. "Come with me to Japan. You will have a home. Food. Clothes. Whatever you need." His expression remained stern, almost unreadable, but his voice softened. "I will take care of you." Tatsuo cleared his throat, waiting rather than forcing her from the closet. "You don't have to trust me tonight, sweetheart. Just understand one thing, if you come with me, nobody touches you without my permission."