DescriptionOn the flashy Las Vegas strip, Kasumi Yoshida tracks down her marks– assassinating gamblers who pay their loans with their lives. Business becomes scarce when a past lover and fellow Yakuza member betrays the honor system and rescues Kasumi’s future clients.
Her boss insists she works with Ryan, a hired gun, to find the cause, but Kasumi becomes distracted by his arrogant charm, and soon her adrenaline-filled world of death and motorcycle racing is muddied by her obsession with the past and her uncontrollable attraction to her partner.
Kidnapping, torture, and betrayal allow the enemy to capture Kasumi, and she is forced to trust in friendship and love to free her from guilt so she can take her revenge.
Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
Excerpt:The bells of the casino screamed out at Kas Yoshida, but she pushed her way through the crowds to follow her mark. His actions revealed to her he was aware someone pursued him. He kept pace with a group of elder tourists, chatted them up at the Black Jack tables at the Bellagio. How he had managed to find another backer that would give him money was beyond Kas. A majority of the targets she followed lately still circled the big tables, dropping large amounts of money.
After following the pock-marked man through numerous casinos Kas saw an opening. The man excused himself from the table, his small pile of fifty-dollar chips vanished in the previous hand. Kas walked briskly behind. The man wiped the sweat from his upper lip, and his fingers twitched nervously. His preoccupation assured Kas her footsteps would not draw his attention.
The disjointed parking garages had become a place of comfort, their dark pathways and stained concrete a fitting environment for a killer. Venturing inside, Kas tucked her hair into the hood of the jacket. She pulled the thin black gloves up, and with a steady hand reached back to the waist of her jeans for the gun concealed by the lightweight jacket. The .380 tucked conveniently into the small curve of her back, and though her boss requested she use a silencer, Kas found it made the gun too clunky to comfortably conceal in the desert heat.
Her fingers just brushed the steel of the barrel when his phone rang. Its sharp, electronic chirp echoed in the parking garage. The man jumped then turned to see if anyone had witnessed the embarrassing movement. Kas ducked between cars, cursing the timing of the call. She could not afford to lose him.
The conversation increased the man’s frantic activity, and he ignored her approach. It would be easy, but she had to get him off the phone before killing him. She did not want whoever was on the other end of the line to come looking for him only minutes after Kas had disposed of him.
Kas stumbled noisily toward the man’s car. She giggled to herself and wobbled as she approached him, letting her jacket fall and reveal the large amount of skin her blouse did not cover. The movement caused the long jacket sleeve to conceal the gun in her hand, a help and hindrance. Even now he failed to notice her. She kept her pace and stumbled between the vehicles. With a lurch, she let herself fall heavily onto his car.
“Hey, honey.” She moved closer to him. He began to pull the phone from his ear, but before he could turn his attention to her someone yelled from the other end. “Do you know where I parked my car?” She giggled again and ran her hand down his arm, petting him.
“Hold—hang on a sec.” This time he dropped the phone to his shoulder.
“N—no I don’t.”
“Then…can you take me home?” Kas ran her hand down his face. “I need someone.”
Finally distracted by her attention, the man ended the call without another word.
“I’m sure I can take you. Somewhere.”
Kas giggled and fell into the man. In his surprise he attempted to steady her, but Kas used her weight to pull him with her to the ground. She used her agility to free herself and straddle the man. He looked confused, unsure whether to be aroused or frightened.
With fingers tensed like claws, Kas clutched his throat. “Akira wants his money.” The man squawked out something incoherent. “Do you have it?”
The man tried to buck her off. Kas released his throat and pulled up the sleeve to reveal her weapon. The cold kiss of the barrel’s end on his forehead increased the man’s fight a millisecond before Kas pulled the trigger. She jumped up immediately to avoid the puddle of blood that ran down the slight grade of the garage. It was time to disappear in a crowd. Growing up with a father in the Yakuza, Kas always strived at being secretive.
When Kas came close to the entrance to the casino, a group of women stood chatting nearby. Kas attached herself to the back of their party. She sat at a slot machine close to them. After a few moments she made a comment to one of them about how she was having no luck and left.
Kas took her phone from her pocket and looked up one of the few contacts she bothered to save. She clicked on the name “A” and sent a quick text. “Done.” Akira, her boss, would likely give her a little time then check in to see how the job went.