“Anyway. . .” Hiroko’s hand lifted from my back. Then she stepped away, adjusted the jade ring on her finger, and let out the softest sigh. “I didn’t survive this long by trying to steal what monsters would burn the world to protect.”
We both let out a nervous laugh together, returning to our rightful places—dominatrix student and teacher.
“Nyomi, it is clear you look the part. A littletoowell. I nearly went off-mission just now. And thatneverhappens.”
We both let out another nervous laugh together.
Hiroko took another step back. “We all have our jobs during this war.”
I eyed her. “What is yours?”
“This morning before the explosions. . .Kenji asked me to monitor the temperature outside this island. He wanted to know the underworld perception as well as chatter among allies and enemies. I’m honored. It tells me that he trusts me to catch signals even his other Ears might miss.”
She brushed the front of her kimono down. “Only a few of us on this island have phones. Fewer still have signal strength. Mine is connected through an encrypted relay—not perfect, but enough to hear when Tokyo’s criminal network flinches.”
That caught me off guard. “And has it been flinching?”
Hiroko’s smile faded, replaced by something cool and assessing. “Several of the Fox’s allies have already fled Japan. Disappeared less than two hours after the bombs went off. Private jets. Quiet, quick departures. No statements to their men.”
She held my gaze. “Those actions. . .it says that they think their friend, the Fox is going to lose this war. . .and they don’t want the Dragon coming for them when the smoke clears.”
My breath tightened.
She tilted her head. “That’s how power works. No one wants to be the last one standing when a monster falls. Everyone scrambles to prove they were never reallythatclose.”
She let the words hang for a beat, then smoothed her sleeves. “Anyway. . . Back toyourpart in the war.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay.”
“Before you walk down that hall, there are a few things you need to remember.”
I straightened, heartbeat thudding.
“Number one, never walk fast. Fast is what prey does when it senses danger. You are not prey.”
I nodded.
“Walk slowly. Make them wait. Every step should click and echo with entitlement.”
She moved to my side but kept space between us. “Let your hips move, but never wiggle. This isn’t a playground—it’s a throne room. Your body must speak power, not playfulness.”
“Got it.”
“Three. When you enter the war room, never look for a seat or place to stand. Let the room rearrange itself around you.”
The words tightened deep in my chest. I could already feel it—that instinct to scan for a chair or chill in the shadows, to make myself small.
No more.
“Four. When you arrive at the war room, pause before the threshold. This lets themfeelyou before they see you. It makes the air shift before you enter and trigger all of them to inhale you.”
I swallowed.
“Five. Don’t smile unless you mean to kill.”
That one made my lip twitch.
“Men don’t deserve your warmth unless they’ve earned it. Let them wonder if they’re worthy.”
