“Sister.” She gave Amery that same seated bow she’d seen Ronin do a hundred times. “I’m Shiori Hirano.”
Ten billion questions bounced around in Amery’s head, but she couldn’t give voice to a single one.
“You’re not what I expected, Amery.”
“To say that I wasn’t expecting you, Ms. Hirano, is an understatement.”
“Please. Call me Shiori.”
She pronounced it she-o-ree. “Where’s the Hirano come in? The whole Japanese family surname first, and then the given name last confuses me.”
“Hirano was my married name. I opted not to change it back after the divorce. In Japan I introduce myself as Hirano Shiori. When dealing with people in Europe or the West, I switch it to the Westernized version Shiori Hirano. My headache is such I neglected to do that today.”
Amery couldn’t help but stare at Ronin’s exotic-looking sister.
“I know Ronin and I don’t look alike—except we both have our mother’s eyes. Although we do have the same parents. Our father was an eighth Japanese.”
Amery frowned. Had Ronin ever told her that about his father? No. “Does Ronin know you’re here in Denver?”
Shiori shook her head. “Curiosity about you got the better of me.”
He’d spoken to his sister about her? “What did he tell you about me?”
“Nothing. He circumvented my involvement by dealing with Maggie. He demanded that we hire your firm, sight unseen, for a major product launch for the family business. Naturally that caused a major red flag.”
“What family business?”
Shiori’s gaze sharpened. “You really don’t know? When you can rattle off the retail price of every item on my body? You know exactly what Ronin is worth. I’m observant too, Ms. Hardwick. Don’t try and snow me like you’ve snowed my brother.”
Snowed her brother? What the hell? “The Ronin Black I know owns a dojo. That’s it. There is no snowing the man. Ever.”
“Ronin isn’t only some two-bit dojo sensei, teaching classes and putting together amateur mixed martial arts fights. Ronin Black is heir to the Okada Food Conglomerate. An international company currently valued at five billion U.S. dollars.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Amery said, “What? Are you f**king kidding me?”
“No, I assure you, I am not kidding.”
Not happening. Ronin would not do this. He had too much integrity to lie to her on such an epic scale.
But he didn’t lie; he just wasn’t completely honest. He wasn’t honest with you about a lot of things. Why are you so shocked by this?
Because she’d trusted him. She’d believed he was just a jujitsu master living his life according to the tenets of his discipline.
She had to keep her teeth clenched to hold back the roar of fury threatening to escape. Her face and neck became fire hot, which was odd when she’d felt the blood drain out of her face and her entire body turned ice-cold.
Shiori leaned over the conference table. “You had no clue about who he is, did you?”
“None at all.”
The man was a f**king billionaire.
The sick feeling spread from her gut straight up to her heart. He’d lied to her about who he was from the start. While she’d bared everything to him. Everything—her mind, her body, her will. And what had she gotten in return? Hot sex, kinky sex. Not the same type of soul-baring disclosure. He’d kept his place in the international billionaire’s club a f**king secret.
“I wasn’t wrong in my assumption that you two are intimately involved?”
“We’ve spent time together the last couple months.”
Shiori gave her a skeptical look. “You didn’t use the fact that you were spending time together to demand that he give your company the new Okada food line project?”
“How could I have demanded anything from him when I had no goddamn idea he had any tie to Okada? When I hadn’t even heard of the company . . .” Until a couple of weeks after she’d mentioned her financial struggles to one Ronin Black. She exhaled. “He set this whole thing up. He set me up.” Amery wanted to beat her fists into the table. “I was flattered when my little graphic design company garnered interest from a big corporation. Naive of me to trust it, but I had so much hope that playing in the big leagues would turn things around for me. Now to learn it’s all been a lie?” She shook her head. She’d never bounce back from this type of betrayal. Never.
“I saw your financials. It’s been a rough year.”
Of course she’d scoured Amery’s financials—a company like Okada wielded a lot of power. Which probably meant that Ronin was also aware she had two grand in her checking account, the exact amount of her outstanding mortgage payment and how much she’d socked away in her 401k. Pitiable amounts to billionaires, for sure. Her face heated again. “I never asked Ronin for money.”
“He most likely considered this a favor to you?”
“A favor? A favor is helping your friend move into a new apartment. Or taking a self-defense class with a friend to bolster her self-esteem. A favor is not secretly demanding your billion-dollar family business take pity on your flavor of the month and tease her with the possibility of a multimillion-dollar contract.”
Shiori studied her. “How long have you been . . . ?”
“Several months. So when he demanded you hire me, did he ask you not to tell me?”
“Like I mentioned previously, I haven’t actually spoken to Ronin about this. He instructed Maggie to find a project for your company and hire you outright. She contacted me, letting me know what my brother had demanded. I decided to intervene.”
“So you came to Denver to see if I was some gold-digging hustler.”
She lifted a slim shoulder. “It’s happened before.”
Amery frowned. “To Ronin?”
“No. To me.”
Why was she being so forthright? Because it sure as f**k didn’t run in the family.
“You seem surprised I’d tell you that.”
“I’m used to your brother’s nondisclosure.”
“I’d point out it’s a Japanese thing. But it’s mostly a Ronin thing.”
“Didn’t you do a background check on me?” Amery demanded.
“I didn’t need to.” She nonchalantly sipped her tea. “Ronin had you checked out shortly after you two met.”