Takashi had considered that as a possible future for Yamato, but had decided against it. In the end, the boy was his grandson and he did not deserve to have the sins of his parents visited upon him to that extent. And, more, Takashi was concerned about his successor. Miyasato would have been perfect, but his treachery had made that impossible. Katsuro was wholly unsuitable, a conclusion that had been reinforced by this week’s misadventures in Bali. Who else was there? Yamato was young enough to be brought up the right way, to be imprinted with a respect for history and the proper ways of doing things. Takashi was old, but he was still fit and healthy; his own parents had lived into their nineties. He had time enough left to mould his grandson so that he might be his successor.

He turned to the nanny. “Does he need anything?”

“No, Nishimoto-sama. He has everything he needs.”

Takashi glanced at the sleeping child. He would bring the boy up, but that did not mean that he found it easy to love him. He looked like his father, and that reminded Takashi of his betrayal. He knew that would be a challenge that he would have to overcome.

He closed the door and left the apartment without another word. He took the elevator back up to his penthouse, poured himself a drink and took it to the window so that he could look out over the city. The child had served an additional purpose in guaranteeing his niece’s compliance. Her obedience had been won until now, but her recent behaviour had suggested that his hold over her was not as firm as it had once been. He would wait for Katsuro to find Sakura and bring her to him, and then perhaps he would show her what it meant to cross the oyabun of a yakuza clan. Miyasato had betrayed him; it seemed that his daughter-in-law had been infected by the same foolishness, and it was time for her to pay the price.

78

Sakura excused herself, saying that she needed to visit the bathroom. Hachirō waited for her to pass out of earshot before turning back to Milton with a steely expression.

“Who are you?” he said.

“What did Sakura tell you?”

“That you used to work for the government.”

“That’s right.”

“Doing what?”

“I was a problem solver.”

“She says that you are a capable man. What kind of problems did you solve?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“And you think that this qualifies you to stand up to my brother? And his son?”

“You’re going to have to trust me. I know that they’re yakuza. The fact that that doesn’t concern me should be all you need to know.”

“What about you and Sakura?”

“What about it?”

“What are your intentions?”

It was a curiously old-fashioned turn of phrase. “I want to help her.”