Hiroko stepped behind me. “When you walk into that war room, they will not seeKenji’swoman. They will see their Queen entering.”
Their Queen?
Those two words echoed in my ears, settling in the darkest corner of my mind.
I stared at my reflection, suddenly seeing more than just my killer outfit and sexy heels. There was a spark in those smoky-ringed eyes, a glimmer of something I had not seen before.
I let out a shaky breath, tasting the sweet, heavy scent of wealth and power that clung to the space.
Zo gave one last approving nod, then spun on his heel with a wink, and headed off. “My work here is done. You two play nice.”
I quirked my brows. “Where are you going?”
He grabbed the doorknob. “I found a weed hookup on the island.”
I blinked. “You what?”
“Mm-hmm. One of the Scales' girlfriends grows her own secret batch. Said it’s a homegrown Japanese strain too. Very boutique. Very elite.” He raised a brow. “Also, can we talk about how dramatic it is for someone to name their jobScale? Like… are they measuring things? Do they hiss? Are they into reptiles or justice?”
I snorted.
“I don’t know what’s happening on this island, but I’m not surviving it sober.” Zo opened the door. “I need to smoke or I’m going to fully spiral into madness. This rich mafia energy has my anxiety in a chokehold.”
Next, he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence bloomed.
And then Hiroko stepped behind me again—closer this time. So close I could feel the whisper of her kimono sleeves drag softly across my arm. It was silk flirting with nerve endings.
She placed her palm flat on my lower back.
Firm.
Warm.
Grounding.
“Breathe,” She leaned in. “Let the power settle into your spine. Let it fill you.”
Her touch didn’t move, but itcommanded.
I stood taller. My shoulders dropped back. My chest lifted.
She leaned in even more—not touching me, but close enough that her breath skimmed the shell of my ear. “Look at you.”
I shivered.
“If I were ten years younger. . .” Her pause came thick and heavy with everything unsaid. “Hmm. Or. . .maybe if I was just. . .less disciplined. . .”
She exhaled, long and slow, and it dragged heat down my neck like a tongue made of breath.
And. . .I shouldn’t have, but I had to know what was on her mind, so. . .I whispered, “What would you do?”
“I would teach you whatreal worshiplooks like.”
My breath caught.
