Hiro stopped too and turned to face me.
"Wait. You're telling me that being a Scale in Kenji’s household is adream job?"
"For most people? Yes." Hiro's expression didn't change. "It is competitive. Difficult to get. People stay for decades because there is no better employer in this world. Kenji’s mother taught him that loyalty is earned, not demanded. Therefore, he treats his people well, and they return that care."
I looked around the hallway again, seeing it differently now.
The woman adjusting the framed print—she was humming.
The guard with the clipboard—his uniform was tailored, his shoes polished to a mirror shine.
The housekeeper who'd passed us earlier—her hands had been manicured.
These people weren't justemployed.
They werecherished.
A fresh hiss slithered through my imagination, curling around my ears like warning.
My stomach tightened.
"So. . .if the Scales are living like this. . ." I said slowly, working it out in my head. "If they have everything they could possibly want, financial security, healthcare, education for their kids, respect. . ."
Hiro watched me, waiting.
"And one or more are spies. . .then, they wouldn’t be working with the Fox because they're angry or disgruntled." My voice dropped. "They most likely wouldn’t want to hurt Kenji."
The twins shifted behind me, silent but present.
I thought about the pictures the spy had taken. If it had been any of the Scales from the household, then they wouldn’t see it as betrayal but maybe. . .survival or maintaining. . .life stability.
Fuck. We have been thinking about this all wrong.
Something unseen dragged across the inside of my mind—slow, heavy, like scales scraping stone. A hush settled over my thoughts, an oppressive pressure I couldn’t shake.
The mansion no longer felt like polished marble and sandalwood.
It felt alive.
Listening.
Waiting.
I put my view back on Hiro. “If there’s a spy in the household, then they’re not trying to betray the Dragon, they’re probably trying to avoid the war or even stop it. Maybe, they’re just really scared."
“I could believe that.” Hiro's jaw tightened. "Fear makes people do desperate things. Even good people. Even loyal people. The Fox knows this. My father does not target the angry or the bitter. He targets the ones with something to lose."
I looked down the hallway at the staff moving through their evening routines—laughing, working, living.
All of them believing they were safe.
All of them unaware that one of their own had been backed into a corner by a monster who knew exactly how to exploit love.
A phantom slither raced over my forearm, so vivid that I flinched. My pulse quickened. My instincts sharpened. Whoever was hiding in this household—whoever thought they could strike at Kenji—felt close enough to breathe on the back of my neck.
My throat burned. "One or two of these spies may be trying to protect their families. That's why they did it."
"Perhaps." Hiro's gaze was steady on me. "But intention does not erase consequence. If they tried to give the Fox information. . .I won’t forgive it. Neither will my brother."
