They'd built a family.
A dysfunctional, violent, deeply loyal family that spoke in hand signals, blood oaths, and silent loyalty born in childhood alleys.
My throat tightened. "Hiro. . .I'm sorry about what I said to the twins earlier. I meant no disrespect."
He shook his head. "I knew you were good with reading people, but notthatgood. It serves them right for testing you."
"That's not fair, Hiro. I should apologize. I just don't know how—"
"They don't need an apology." His voice was firm but gentle. "They just need your love. Continue to be yourself."
My heart warmed, even as guilt still twisted in my chest. "I feel bad."
He winked. "Good. Then make sure you make the twins an extra special signature cocktail. That will clear everything up."
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me. "That's your solution?"
"It's a very good solution."
Before I could respond, the lock clicked.
The door opened, and both twins stepped back into the hallway—shoulders still tense, eyes sharp, movements deliberate. They still had their guns out.
They stopped in front of Hiro.
In perfect synchronization, they raised their right hands to chest height, fingers spread wide, then closed their fists and tapped twice against their hearts.
Maybe that means. . .clear or all safe.
Hiro's expression didn't change, but his hands moved immediately—three quick gestures in succession.
First, he pointed at both twins, then swept his hand down the hallway in both directions.
Second, he made a fist and tapped his own chest once.
Third, he touched two fingers to his temple, then pointed at the door.
The twins nodded once—sharp, efficient—and immediately split apart.
Yuki moved left, positioning himself near the corner where the hallway turned, his body angled to cover both approaches.
Aki moved right, mirroring his brother's stance, eyes scanning the corridor with predatory focus.
Wow. This comes from decades of operating as a single unit.
Hiro reached behind his back and pulled out his gun—sleek, black, deadly. He checked it with the kind of casual efficiency that said he'd done this a thousand times before.
Then he looked at me, and one corner of his mouth lifted. "Let's begin, Velma."
My pulse kicked up, adrenaline flooding my system.
This was it.
The hunt was on.
Chapter thirty-five
Obsessed with the Dragon
