Heaven's Crime (gxg) ✓

seventeen. the mafia are not babysitters

                     I want to ask why she thinks I have any clue what the hell the Underground is. But I keep my mouth shut―Cassie is in the backseat, and her face is buried in her palms.

                     "Cassie?" I call back, flicking my eyes through the rearview mirror. "You . . . are you alright?"

                    "Of course I'm not alright!" she shrieks. "You just told Gavin you were in the Mafia, you have a gun, and we're in the car with someone who talks about breaking bones as easily as the weather report!"

                    "My name is Veah, if that helps."

                    "It doesn't help!" my sister says, and she screams into her cupped palms. 

                   Veah lets out a low chuckle, and it's so endearing I almost crash into the car in front of us. 

                   Idiot. I almost got into a car accident for a cute girl.

                   I need to snap out of it. She's not just a cute girl―she's the lethal ex-Yakuza boss who got me into this mess.

                   Cassie looks up, like something just occurred to her. "Veah what? What's your last name?"

                    My gaze drifts sideways. Good question.

                   What is Veah's last name?

                   "Heaven Tanaka," Veah says, almost reluctantly. "My full name."

                    It's almost like she's expecting us to . . . recognize it.

                   But I don't―so I only shake my head, focusing back on the road. 

                   It's going to be a long drive to New Orleans.

                  "Are you sure this is it?"

                  I glance up at the old, run-down apartment building. We are currently standing in a cold alleyway. Shadows skitter across the brick like insects, and my arms prickle with the feeling of being watched. 

                 Veah doesn't answer―she just opens the door.

                 "I don't think you're allowed to trespass into―"

                "Kaya, shut up," Cassie whispers.

                 I hear the ghostlike echo of Veah's laughter, and I scowl.

                 "Following rules is good," I say, following Veah and Cassie into the dark apartment building. "Following rules keeps the order."

                 There is a receptionist standing behind the corner of a sleek black desk.

                 "How may I help you?" she says, and she looks . . . professional. Polished. Like she should be working in a five-star hotel and not this―whatever this is.

                 Veah doesn't say a word.

                 Recognition dawns bright on the receptionist's face.

                "Miss Tanaka, I'll inform the Alpha that the Cais are here for a meeting right away―"

                "I'm not here with the Cais."