Kenji's eyes flicked to the door, then back to me. After a long moment, he went back to the table and sat down, but his entire body was rigid with barely controlled rage.
He called out, "Come in."
Two maids entered with a cart, bringing in orange juice, glasses of water, and steaming tea. They moved with practiced elegance, pouring each drink carefully and setting everything just so. They didn't look at us, and definitely didn't acknowledge the tension crackling in the air.
Kenji sat across from me, still looking pissed.
I picked up my fork and started eating again, trying to act like everything was normal.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he mirrored me and began to eat.
We chewed in tense silence.
As the maids left, they kept the door open.
A beep sounded from the hallway. It must have been one of the guards' wristwatches.
One of the guards whispered into his watch. "Yes, Reo. The Dragon is up and eating breakfast with the Tiger."
Reo's voice came through, muffled by what sounded like chewing. "Thank you. Let the Dragon know that all is clear at this time. No word from the Butcher or the Fox."
The guard must have looked back at us because Kenji nodded his acknowledgment.
The door remained open and two guards entered, taking their posts near us.
I kept my voice low. "Please don't yell at Hiro."
"We're going to have a tense conversation."
"Not too tense."
"He's my brother. Hiro knows that I love him, but we've discussed this before. He shouldn't be sleeping in any place but his room. It’s too dangerous."
"It looked like he was drinking and passed out."
Kenji sighed and looked sad. "Yeah?"
"Yes." My journalist mind went into gear. "What's going on with him?"
"Hiro is dealing with grief." Kenji's jaw tightened. "Our father killed a woman that Hiro liked. A woman he was possibly going to have a future with."
My heart stopped. "What? Why would the Fox do that?"
"To teach my brother and me a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“My father wanted us to know that he's still in control and powerful. And to never be with a woman outside our culture."
Rage filled me—hot, violent, consuming.
For Hiro.
For Kenji.
For a woman, whose name I didn't even know but who'd been murdered just to prove a point.
I whispered, "I'm so sorry."
