In His Arms

Chapter 32

The house is as I remembered it, all class and elegance of a wealthy family. Chinese porcelain vases line-lit-up display cases mounted on the walls of the entry hall where I use Eugene as support to take off my heels. The floor is a brownish ceramic and porcelain mix that reflects my image signifying how clean the place is.

"您的房子比以前干净多了. 你们是不是换了佣人? (Your house is cleaner than before. You guys changed the help?)" I ask, still holding onto Eugene's arm as he takes me further into his house. "我记得我小时候，您家的地板总是铺满敌人的血，一直令我感觉到地板滑滑的. (I recall when I was younger, your floor was always wet with the blood of your foes.)"

His responding smirk makes a smile of my own appear on my lips as he replies, "In the house, we speak English. Just to spite Dad since it takes him twice as long to comprehend what we say. Also, yes we did change the help but the floor wouldn't be bloody anyway since I stopped bringing work home."

Of course...

"My apologies for speaking to you so rudely in the car," He adds, after a beat. "I need to keep up pretences in front of the workers. You remembered that I cried?"

My light laughter filters through the relatively empty high ceilingsed house as I return, "How could I forget? You were my friend."

"He wasn't just your friend," A female voice chips in, the sound of her light and airy voice causes the two of us to look behind us. "That idiot worshipped the ground you walked on."

"Angela," Eugene warns, glaring at his younger sister who has flowing black hair that reaches her elbows, her deep brown eyes glint mischievously as she sticks her tongue out at her older brother, she stands at around the same eight as me and she is dressed in a tight-fitting white dress.

Angela Lee Yuan. Ranked third most dangerous and wanted hitwoman by Interpol, she and two others who rank respectively as fourth and fifth on the list are considered assets to the Triads which effectively places the Triads at the respectable third place in Hierarchy.

Hitmen from Sangue Nero places Fifth and Cosa Nostra still places first.

At least that's what Daniello told me via text message in June.

"What?" She snarks, rolling her eyes at her brother, removing my arm off of his. "You did. For years after she left all I ever heard was how much you regretted not helping her that night that Dad made you watch him punish her."

Eugene looks as though he's on the brink of slapping Angela but before he can act on his impulse, a lady dressed in a maid's outfit calls us for dinner. Swallowing his anger, Eugene follows the maid through a large door where the familiar smell of soup dumplings filters out of the open door.

The dining room is beautifully lit by three chandeliers pouring out mellow romantic light onto the long table that is laid with silverware and various tumblers of dim sum steamers. My heart leaps into my mouth when the man sitting at the head of the table stands to greet us as he near him.

He looks exactly like he did except a little bit aged.

Ruffled black hair, pale Chinese skin, almond-shaped dark brown eyes and tall. Well, for an Asian man to stand at 6''0, he should be considered taller than most kinds of men like his son.

"小蝴蝶! (Little butterfly!)" Mr Lee exclaims, engulfing me in a tight hug. "老夫说的对不对啊? 你看尤金我选的连衣裙适不适合她? (Didn't I tell you before? Doesn't the dress suit her Eugene?)"

"Thank you, Mr Lee," I chuckle at his self-praise, receiving a puzzled look from the old man. "It's very nice to see you after so many years."

"你们这些臭小子！(You sinking children!)" Mr Lee huffs, wagging his finger at his son and daughter as they try to swallow down their smiles. "You think you father no know English. I know okay?"

His English is still bad.

The laughter that comes from the three of us makes him scowl even further as we take our seats at the table. Eugene pokes fun at his father by commenting that we're eating little dragon dumplings again and he receives a slap to the back of his head by his father.

"You speaka English, you eat soup dumplings, 臭小子! (Horrible child) 没用的儿子!(Good for nothing son!)" Mr Lee snaps, placing a dumpling on my plate, turning his frown upside down to return my smile. "Daniello say you in trouble. How I help?"

Wow, he just went right into it.

The mood on the table swings from light and cheery to dark and serious in a matter of a few seconds with Mr Lee's words. The quietening sound of the ivory wood chopsticks clinking against the porcelain bowls makes goosebumps rise on my arms.

"Is it the Sangue Nero?" Eugene asks, his eyes darkening at the mere thought of the Italian crime syndicate. "Don't tell me they're still after you."

"If by they you mean Cater Logans then probably," Angela scoffs, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "He literally fell head over heels for Alastora when she was what ten and he twenty? The guy was sixteen when he killed his father to be the head boss of the Sangue Nero Syndicate. It won't be surprising if he were still looking for her."

Wow, she hit the nail on its head with that statement.

"He put a price on my head," I reveal, avoiding eye contact with everyone on the table. "I was attacked earlier in Seattle on the streets. Thankfully, Daniello's men were there to save me. However, I don't know if the news of my arrival here has reached the people who know about my price and I'm pretty sure Logans has my location, I opened an encrypted email from him on the flight."

The hush that follows my words chills me to the bone as the three most powerful crime figures in Asia contemplate what to do next. Deciding that it is best if I steer the mood away from work, I take up my chopsticks to put the dumpling into my mouth only to choke on it when Eugene asks.

"Why are you even in Taiwan, Alastora?"