The blood would pool and darken beneath him, drawing flies.
One day, my friend. One day.
A smile spread across my face, and my tongue pressed against the back of my teeth. Somewhere deep in my chest, the dragon purred.
Then I pictured Nyomi's face if she ever discovered the bamboo room. It would be worse than disgust, and the moment when she stopped looking for the man she believed I could be—because she'd finally stop believing he existed.
Reo disrupted my thoughts. “After the tour, he asked to speak to you.”
I bet he did.
Rin came over and handed Reo the first glass.
“That’s when I came to get you.” Reo accepted the glass with a nod, lifted it, and took a short sip.
Next, Rin came over and passed me the second glass. I took it but didn’t raise it right away. I just let it sit in my hand.
Due to this, there would be no gossip about how Reo got beaten so bad he needed to drink the pain down. Now all would say that after the beating, Reo and the Dragon drank expensive whiskey together.
This was what Nyomi didn’t understand yet.
Power wasn’t just deciding who lived or died. It was knowing when to soften a blow without anyone realizing it had been softened. When to give something without appearing to give at all.
When to let a man take pain in silence because taking it loudly would greatly cost him his reputation later.
My Tiger wanted me to get her permission.
She wanted a say.
A voice in the moment where blood dripped into fire.
But this—this subtle choreography—was layered too deep. Too many rules she hadn’t learned yet. Too many consequences she hadn’t lived inside long enough to anticipate.
If I handed her that kind of authority now, it wouldn’t make her stronger.
It would make me weaker.
My mind drifted back to the way she'd looked at me this morning and demanded I never make deadly decisions without her.
My chest ached.
What am I going to do about this?
I glanced at each Fang. “Leave.”
Kaoru moved first, pushing off the doorframe with the kind of grace that made women ruin their marriages. His eyes flicked once to Reo's bruised face—Loss? Worry?—before that heartbreakingly-handsome mask slid back into place and he looked away. By the time he reached the door, he was already someone else.
Someone softer.
Someone who could smile his way into anywhere he needed to be.
Yoichi followed, rifle case shifting against his hip as he pivoted.
Rin glided toward the door, white suit whispering against the floor, already reaching for the handle.
Satoshi hesitated.
Just a fraction too long.
