"That's why I needyou." His hand found mine. "You can read people, Tora. You can find the lie when no one else can, and you’ve already knocked out two of his fucking spineless spies."
The pressure of that responsibility hit me.
I stared at the board, and my mind raced.
Still, this was fascinating.
Intricate.
A puzzle of power and violence spread across continents.
Kenji wasn't just dangerous because he could slash throats or pull triggers. He was dangerous because his mind was a chessboard that never stopped moving.
Every piece had a purpose.
Every action had layers.
And somehow, this man—who had my panties flown to him via same-day delivery while he was in Paris—had also managed to plant spies and hackers throughout France, to set up a trap for his father, and orchestrate a war that spanned the globe.
The duality was staggering.
I thought back to Reo's message earlier, the one delivered through my guard's watch:
“Everything is clear. No word from the Butcher or the Fox yet.”
"So right now," I looked at Kenji, "your father hasn't called the Butcher yet?"
"Not yet." His voice was calm. "As soon as my father calls, I'll hear from Reo and we'll know the location. Then, Hiro, my Claws, Fangs, Reo, and I. . .well. . .we’ll visit him."
My heart tightened.
Pressure built in my chest—fear, anticipation, dread all tangled together.
I was scared.
Scared about what was to come.
Scared that something would go wrong.
That the strategy would fail.
That Kenji and Hiro would get hurt.
I was praying—actually praying—that everything would turn out exactly the way he'd planned.
And I was shocked that I was here.
In this place.
In this position.
With this man.
Doing something so big and violent.
Kenji's gaze shifted to the recorder sitting on the food cart—the one I'd gotten from my office earlier. One of my guards must have grabbed it before we left the kitchen.
He smiled. "You were in your office today?"
