Hazuki didn’t know what to think. The pervert sempai had told her about, warned her about and taught her to exploit, the pervert she’d seen with her own eyes during the entire morning was gone, replaced by the grim-faced, taciturn Saeba Ryo who’d kept her a brooding company during the afternoon and this evening.

The man whose thunderous expression was currently turned away from her as he glared through the window at the building on the other side of the street, his large, imposing frame visibly trembling with rage, his knuckles white as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Hazuki had absolutely no idea what to think, what to say, how to react. She’d been prepped to deal with the pervert and she was rather confident in her ability to keep him at arm’s length. The problem was, she wasn’t dealing with his perverted side. She wasn’t dealing with him, period, since he’s been pretty much ignoring her.

She was contemplating calling sempai and ask for further guidance and directions, but she didn’t want to appear incompetent. And she doubted sempai could offer any useful advice, since she suspected this wasn’t a regular, normal occurrence. There was something off, she could feel it, but she had no idea what it was.

Saeba muttered something unintelligible under his breath, turned and glared at her. “You’re still packed, aren’t you?”

Of course, she was. He hadn’t bothered with showing her to a particular room. He hadn’t bothered with showing her any modicum of hospitality, in fact. But, wary of his expression, she wisely kept her mouth shut and merely nodded.

“Good. Grab your bag and let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, but she was talking to an empty room; he’s already disappeared out into the hallway. Huffing in indignation and already composing a memo to sempai in her head, she quickly snatched her bag from beside the door and followed him.



“What the hell are you doing here?”

Smirking, Ryo ran his eyes up and down his friend. Wearing a cable knit sweater in the same color as his eyes and tan slacks, Mick looked like he’s just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Ryo wanted to punch him in the face. Did he really have to look so polished all the time? Compared to him, Ryo looked like a hobo, which had never bothered him. Until now. Now, the glaring difference between them—Mick’s angel-like features, looking like a model without a hair out of place and him in his usual worn-in jeans, T-shirt and short jacket, his hair only temporarily tamed by running his fingers through them—really chafed.

Was this what Kaori saw when she looked at them together? An angel and a homeless drunk? Has she really fallen for Mick’s polished charm? Did she like it?

She must, since she’d offered herself to the man on a silver platter.

And there were his baser homicidal tendencies striving to come to the surface once more. For the umpteenth time since he’s learned of the deal she’s struck with the man he’d, until recently, considered his best friend.

He gritted his teeth and arranged his face into a semblance of a smile. He knew it must look as feral as he felt, but he didn’t really care. He was here and he’d make sure to stay put for as long as this assignment lasted. There was no chance in hell he’d be leaving the ‘happy couple’ alone at night again. There was no way Mick was sampling the promised goods ahead of time. And if Ryo had any say in the matter, Mick would fry in hell before he touched Kaori at all.

“Well, I felt I was at a distinct advantage having Hazuki under my roof, so in the spirit of competition, and to make it all fair and square, I decided we should all keep an eye on her together.” He shrugged, his grin growing larger. “Besides, there’s only one bed in my apartment, while you have two. I didn’t want to force Hazuki to share a bed with me. I’m a gentleman, after all.”

“Since when?” Kaori asked from the doorway to what appeared to be the kitchen.

“I’ve always been a gentleman, Kaori-chan,” he told her cheerfully.

She snorted, but refrained from further comments—smart girl—and disappeared again.

Ryo caught Mick’s gaze and wanted to punch him again. The American definitely looked too smug for his liking. “What?” he growled.

“Oh, nothing,” Mick replied innocently. “Nothing at all.” Then he smiled at their joint client, the woman Ryo had all but forgotten stood behind him—a veritable professional he was—and, taking her bag, motioned her inside. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

The voice, the gesture, the friendliness set Ryo’s teeth on edge. And what was with the attentive, gallant expression? Mick was as much of a pig as him when he wanted to be. Couldn’t Hazuki, couldn’t Kaori, see it was all an act? An act to get Kaori in the sack in the end.

Over his dead body.

Seeing red, a plan started formulating in his mind. A brilliant, foolproof plan to get Kaori back. Untouched. He’d make sure Mick didn’t keep his side of the agreement. It would be child’s play to accomplish that. Ryo would exploit all the man’s weak points, he knew them all, he had them all, and in the end his friend would ruin his only chance with Kaori himself. He won’t be able to help it, Ryo would make sure of it.

In the end, utterly disgusted, Kaori would leave Mick and come back to him. And all would be well again. He grinned. All would be right again.

“Do you intend to just stand there, grinning like an idiot?” Kaori snapped from beside him and slammed the front door shut. “And what’s with the visit, huh?” she asked, poking him in the biceps. “You had Hazuki all to yourself. What happened? Is your mokkori broken or something?”

His grin turned into an indulging smile. He just couldn’t help it. She could say whatever she wanted, he wouldn’t get mad. He couldn’t.

“It’s like I told Mick. It wouldn’t be a fair fight in the end.”

She cocked her head, looking at him intently. “Are you sick or something?”

“No.”

“Drunk?”

“Nope.”

“High?”

He merely chuckled.

“Dying?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Hmmm.” She crossed her arms over her chest and started tapping her foot. “I’m not buying any of it. What game are you playing?”

The ultimate one, he thought. “Can’t you simply accept the fact, I want to play fair?” he asked instead.

“No.”

“Whatever. Let’s go. You shouldn’t leave Mick too long alone with Hazuki.” He slung his arm over her shoulder. “He cannot be trusted, you know.”

“He can be trusted more than you.” She shook him off. “And no touching. We’re not partners anymore, we’re adversaries, but don’t worry,” she smiled sweetly, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “we won’t be even that when Mick and I win.”

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured and followed her into Mick’s living room, his eyes glued on her swaying hips. Come to think of it, they’ll see about the no-touching rule as well.