09-02-2023, 07:34 PM
Hard-hat on his head, Adrian walked the construction site in company of an architect, engineer, a Marveet-steel representative, and the site manager. The walk-through was informative; as thorough as Adrian demanded until he was satisfied with the progress.
When the tour concluded, Adrian shook hands all around and climbed into the back of his car, signaling the driver. He worked off the Wallet screens while stuck in the mire of traffic, and an hour later, he climbed out of the car to endure the exact same tour at a new location before moving on to the next. All four club locations endured the same scrutiny as before. It was his land upon which they were being built, after all, even if the structure wasn’t his venture, he was invested in its success.
Just as he was about to conclude the fourth and final visit, a pair of men approached. Japanese, they wore black suits with black shirts open at the collar. Their expressions were serious, posture imposing.
Adrian raised a brow and waited by the open door of his car.
“Mister Kane?” The first asked. He seemed about 40, though Adrian had difficulty gauging the smooth skin of his face. There was no white flecked in his hair, but his eyes brooked no nonsense.
“M’hmm.” he acknowledged.
“Mister Hayashi requests to speak with you. Come with us please.” Adrian looked from one to the other, understanding the implied expectation. If he did not go, they would make him. Or try to.
“I am busy at the moment. He can schedule a meeting with my assistant,” he said in dismissal and started to climb into the car just as the Yakuza’s hand halted the door from closing.
“Now. Mister Kane.” And his gaze diverted to a limousine some distance from the construction site.
Adrian straightened, gaze flat. His schedule could endure as much, but the intrusive nature of their threats bothered him on principle. To date, his correspondence with Hayashi was purely business. He deserved to be treated as such. Treated better.
Which was with an inward grumble that he assented to the escort.
Yuta Hayashi’s car was dimmed by the black-shaded windows wrapping the Yakuza boss in privacy. It was without any trepidation that Adrian joined him, nor even when the door slammed on his heels, sealing him to whatever fate waited.
It was then that he recognized they were not alone. The sugary smile of Yasmine Amengual greeted him.
Which was... unexpected.
When the tour concluded, Adrian shook hands all around and climbed into the back of his car, signaling the driver. He worked off the Wallet screens while stuck in the mire of traffic, and an hour later, he climbed out of the car to endure the exact same tour at a new location before moving on to the next. All four club locations endured the same scrutiny as before. It was his land upon which they were being built, after all, even if the structure wasn’t his venture, he was invested in its success.
Just as he was about to conclude the fourth and final visit, a pair of men approached. Japanese, they wore black suits with black shirts open at the collar. Their expressions were serious, posture imposing.
Adrian raised a brow and waited by the open door of his car.
“Mister Kane?” The first asked. He seemed about 40, though Adrian had difficulty gauging the smooth skin of his face. There was no white flecked in his hair, but his eyes brooked no nonsense.
“M’hmm.” he acknowledged.
“Mister Hayashi requests to speak with you. Come with us please.” Adrian looked from one to the other, understanding the implied expectation. If he did not go, they would make him. Or try to.
“I am busy at the moment. He can schedule a meeting with my assistant,” he said in dismissal and started to climb into the car just as the Yakuza’s hand halted the door from closing.
“Now. Mister Kane.” And his gaze diverted to a limousine some distance from the construction site.
Adrian straightened, gaze flat. His schedule could endure as much, but the intrusive nature of their threats bothered him on principle. To date, his correspondence with Hayashi was purely business. He deserved to be treated as such. Treated better.
Which was with an inward grumble that he assented to the escort.
Yuta Hayashi’s car was dimmed by the black-shaded windows wrapping the Yakuza boss in privacy. It was without any trepidation that Adrian joined him, nor even when the door slammed on his heels, sealing him to whatever fate waited.
It was then that he recognized they were not alone. The sugary smile of Yasmine Amengual greeted him.
Which was... unexpected.