A sudden thump sounded above us—directly overhead.
My head snapped up.
For one stretched second, neither of us breathed.
Then silence returned, heavy and waiting, as if the entire suite were holding something back.
“Don’t worry.” Hiro got closer to me. “You’re protected.”
For some reason, I thought back to Goldilocks. In that story, Goldilocks ran before the bears could catch her. But somethingtold me the bears in this mansion already knew I was here and were plotting.
Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter thirty-seven
The Hidden Dragon
Nyomi
I reached for Yuki’s doorknob, fingers barely brushing the metal when Hiro’s hand came down over mine—firm, controlled, and stopping me without force.
“Wait, Nyomi.”
I looked up at him just as he stepped in front of me. He didn’t raise his voice or make a show of it, but something in the air shifted. The hallway felt narrower. The air cooled. Hiro was no longer the man explaining nameplates and childhood dynamics.
He was a threatening weapon.
He lifted his gun. The muzzle pointed down as he angled his body toward the door, shoulder lowered slightly, breath steady.
I stepped back instinctively.
The switch in him made my pulse tighten. I’d seen him sleepy and amused.But this was Hiro entering a room like a man who expected to kill whoever waited on the other side.
The back of my neck prickled again. That crawling, electric awareness slithered over my skin—slow, deliberate, like an invisible snake brushing its scales along my spine.
Was it paranoia?
Or was it instinct?
I swallowed and glanced behind me.
Nothing was there. Just the long hallway, the decorative sconces, and the pair of cameras that suddenly felt too aware of us.
Watching.
Recording.
Hunting.
Hiro’s gaze flicked to me for half a second, checking my position. “Stay behind me.”
Not a word of protest passed my lips.
He moved forward, twisting the knob slowly, letting the latch release without a sound.
The silence was so complete I could hear my own breathing—uneven, too fast.
Part nerves.
