Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Who knows how he found it?
Surely, there would be no good from this visit. He loved chaos and starting bullshit. He knew I was in the middle of a goddamn war with my father.
This should have been the only thing on my mind while I dressed, but Nyomi was the only problem I yearned to solve.
How can I get us back to where we were?
I paused from brushing my teeth.
That tremble in her hands hadn't been fear alone.
It had been grief.
And guilt.
And love colliding with horror.
The taste of mint filled my mouth as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The same face that had commanded rooms, ended lives, built an empire from blood and discipline.
But behind it, I saw something I didn't recognize.
Uncertainty.
Goddamn it.
She had rooted herself into me in a way I hadn't anticipated—quietly, deeply—until the thought of her leaving felt less like loss and more like amputation.
I would rather burn every tradition I stood on than watch her walk away believing she was disposable.
I spat into the sink and rinsed.
She wants me to get her permission before I order a mass killing. How would that even work? I answer to no one.
My jaw tightened.
But I'd also never wanted to answer to anyone before.
I returned to the bedroom.
She was gone.
The bed was empty. The closet door stood open, dark inside. The curtain was still drawn across the window, blocking the pyre of burning traitors, but I could feel its heat pressing through the glass.
Could smell the roasted death in every breath.
Where is she?
My chest tightened. She couldn't leave the island—there was nowhere to go—but that didn't matter.
What mattered was that she wasn't here.
What mattered was that she'd looked at me like I was a stranger this morning, like the man who'd held her through the night was someone she didn't recognize.
She wasn't supposed to see that. . .
The thought burned worse than any fire.
I knew how to dominate a room. How to command loyalty. How to burn the world until it bent into order.
I did not know how to fix this.
Had it been any other woman, I would have just had Reo send her home. By that night, a new one would be in my bed.
But there was no replacing Nyomi.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't want to replace the problem with something easier.
That realization exposed something in me. A weakness I'd never permitted myself to have.
I pulled on socks, pants, and a button-down shirt. There was no need for a tie.
I fastened my cuffs and exhaled slowly.
I couldn't buy her forgiveness. I couldn't intimidate her into understanding. I couldn't erase what she'd seen or what I'd done.
I'm going to make this right by the end of the night.
I just had no idea how.
Frowning, I crossed to the door and yanked it open.
Reo stood in the hallway, flanked by four of my Fangs.
Kaoru was to his left, pink hair swept back, his usual easy charm nowhere to be found. His hand hovered near the custom Colt .45 beneath his jacket, and those pianist fingers—the ones that could dismantle a man as easily as they seduced a woman—were absolutely still.
Yoichi stood behind him, bald head gleaming under the hallway lights, the silver wolf tooth charm catching the light at his chest. No haiku on his lips this morning.
Just silence.
Rin was dressed in white as always, his long hair braided in a single ponytail down his back. He stood with the stillness of someone who preferred poison to confrontation—quiet deaths that came two days too late.
But there would be nothing quiet about what was coming.
Surely, he sensed what was about to happen in the air.
Finally, Satoshi completed the formation, ex-military posture rigid, his buzzed black hair still neat as if he'd just left inspection. His jaw was set hard enough to crack teeth.
I looked at Reo.
This morning, he was dressed impeccably as always—dark designer suit, not a hair out of place—but his expression was careful.
Guarded.
He knew he was in trouble.
Good.
I glared at him. "Where's my Tiger?"
Reo's gaze remained steady despite the danger radiating off me. "She's in the kitchen. Practicing with the chef for the cocktail party."
Cooking? After everything this morning, she's in the kitchen cooking?
Reo cleared his throat. "She also asked me to let you know that she still is getting her hair braided today. And she still wants the movies to happen this afternoon for the whole island."
"Why? She thinks there are more traitors?"
"No. She believes the island's morale needs to be raised." He swallowed. "After the events of this morning."
Relief and guilt cracked in my chest. Also, there was this desperate, clawing hope that maybe. . .her seeing the pyre hadn't destroyed everything between us.
She's not running. She's not hiding. She's thinking about my people. About their families. About what they need. That’s got to be good. Right?