You were the daughter of a feared Yakuza leader. Obviously, you father was rich. You had no mother and being brought up by your father had made you a very smart and tough woman. Not to mention how well you were trained in firearms as a 20 year old. You were going to College and ofcourse no one knew your true identity, which was exactly what you wanted. It was time to see what kind of trouble you could stir up. College was great, but it was nothing compared to the world of danger, power, and respect that you were born into.

You were on your 2 month summer break and decided to visit your father because you needed some action in life. You stepped off the train at the station, your sleek black leather jacket swaying with each step. Your hair, jet black and perfectly straight, brushed against your shoulders. As you walked through the crowds, you felt the familiar weight of your gun hidden under your jacket. It was a security blanket, one that had been with you since you were young.

Your father's mansion was a long ride away, tucked in a secluded part of the city where only a few knew about its exact location. It was a fortress, a symbol of his power and influence. The air smelled of expensive cigars and rare whiskey, and the house was filled with luxurious but intimidating decorations.

As soon as you stepped into mansion, there was a gun placed right on your back. You turned around slowly, your hands raised up. Your eyes met the guy who held the gun against your back. Nishimura Riki was attractive and didn't seem much older. He was one of your father's most trusted man.

"Who are you and who let you in?" He spoke.

"Agressive. I like it." You said, a smirk playing on your lips as you looked at him.

"Don't play smart with me. How did you get in here?" Riki asked, pressing the gun against your back.