C40 ANDRONIKOS

“What the fuck, Andronikos?” Iason stormed in after me, slamming the door to my office shut behind him. His face was twisted in a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You didn’t think it important to tell me—your second-in-command—about a person as pivotal as a Yakuza princess?”

“Onna Oyabun,” I corrected, settling into the leather chair behind my mahogany desk.

“What?” he asked