1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Prologue

'I'm here on my father's behalf,' he said.

Yazumi Kojuro was the very picture of formality as he sat ramrod straight on the low sofa with his fists on his knees. His crisp brown suit and and polished leather shoes fit in well with the furnishings of this grand study.

He was impressed by the careful blend of grandiose and comfort that the Federov house was styled in. In fact, the journey from the main gates, to the front door, up the grand staircase, down the hallway and into the Master study appealed to the artist in his soul.

On an ordinary day, he would have appreciated the carved wood details that lined the ceilings, noticed that it matched the details of the banisters, and observe the sturdy but well-crafted furniture, but this was no ordinary day. With one glance, he saw that the Federov's were well-to-do indeed, which served the purpose of his visit nicely.

Within the study, bookshelves packed full with books and folders lined the walls, broken up on one side of the room with a display case. The required family photos lined the shelves as testament to the family as it grew, but what had attracted his attention was the large family portrait that hung behind the desk.

Stanislav Federov had impressed him as a man with an edge. From the way those bull-like shoulders emerged as he stood, to the firm grip with which he had shook his hand, Yazumi Kojuro felt assured that this alliance would not fail. Could not fail. The family portrait had thrown him off.

And so, he thought wryly, as he despatches of his enemies, he has his family smiling behind him.

'I understand,' Stanislav finally said. 'Is it time then?'

He had offered them cigarettes out of a slim, golden case but only Kojuro had accepted. Kojuro's son, a slim young man in a sharp, grey suit had politely refused. Instead, he produced a silver Zippo from a pocket with which he lit their cigarettes. Sweet smelling smoke wound its way above their heads as they took long puffs.

'Yes,' he murmured quietly, his tone resolute.

'Very well,' Stanislav Federov stated crisply. He waved a hand to his butler who bowed his head at the summon. 'Get me the folder in the left-hand side drawer of my desk. Then bring Anton.'

The butler obeyed the command. His slipper-shod feet were silent over the carpeted floor. With the folder retrieved, he unobtrusively placed it by his Master's side, then stepped back again to fulfil the latter part of his order.

'But,' Stanislav went on, 'we cannot adhere to the original arrangement. My only daughter has married.'

Yazumi Kojuro let out a heavy sigh as his brow plunged into a severe frown.

'Is there no other young lady within the family?' he demanded. His spirit sank at the piece of information. Had they travelled to Russia for naught then? A thousand thoughts flurried in his head but he deigned not to voice them.

A slow smile spread across the Russian mobster's face as he considered the idea, then his sharp eyes shifted to rest on the young man. Yazumi Kai straightened under the scrutiny. He had come willingly to offer himself as a groom for the Federov-Yazumi alliance, but had not expected negotiations to be suddenly derailed.

'There are cousins, yes,' he offered idly. 'And I am sure your son is a fine man. But their parents are not willing to enter their children into such a contract after all that happened.'

'And whose fault was that?' Kojuro remarked sharply with his lips curled in irritation.

He clumsily stubbed his cigarette into the bronze ash tray, betraying the undercurrent of emotion that he had so carefully hidden. With some effort, he rose to his feet, sucking in an even bout of air to dispel the tension in his chest.