Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I grinned. “The area has lots of character.”
“Definitely.” As she continued to speak about Mott Haven, I could see her giving me a tour there.
Her hand in mine, our feet hitting the uneven pavement of her block. Her pointing things out with that poetic pride of hers. That corner bodega where she loved to buy mangoes and always got into debates about movie reviews with the cashier. Her favorite mural of a little Black girl with butterfly wings painted across the side of an old shoe store.
The empty lot that turned into an unofficial dance floor in the summer when somebody brought out a speaker.
She sipped the cocktail. “So. . .it’s not perfect. But for a writer with books, wine, and a window view? It’s heaven. It’s home.”
Aww. Tora. . .it’s home. . .but not anymore.
I said nothing because I knew that she had no fucking clue that I would never let her go back there. Not unless it was to pack up her books, notepads, and her pens. Not unless it was to say goodbye to that tiny one-bedroom she thought she belonged in.
Because now she belonged with me.
And Mott Haven, for all its grit and poetry, was no place for my Tiger to remain unguarded—not after she’d done this for me tonight.
I’d burn that building to ash before I let her return.
She watched me. “Now. . .tell me about the Dragon’s lair.”
“My lair?”
“Yes.”
“Why tell you about it, when you’ll be in it this evening?”
She chuckled. “I will not be there this evening.”
Yeah. She still doesn’t understand.
She sighed. “Tell me about your place, Kenji. Come on.”
“It’s a mansion in Minato Ward which is a place that is. . .curated with old money and power.”
“Oh wow.”
“Lots of embassies, luxury residences, and high-end art galleries. My place is right on a private hill above Azabu—secluded, but close enough to see the Tokyo skyline shimmer through floor-to-ceiling windows.”
“Damn, Kenji.” She snapped. “Talk your shit.”
I grinned. “It’s traditional but modernized. Shoji screens, dark wood beams, heated tatami floors. There's a reflecting pool in the back garden that mirrors the moon so clearly you’d think you could touch it.”
“Oh my God.”
“On clear days, you can see Mount Fuji on the horizon.”
“No way.”
“Rare, but possible at times." I looked at my cocktail. “On rainy nights, the entire city turns to gold behind the glass just like magic.”
“That sounds amazing. Do you love being there?”
I put my view back on her. “I actually don’t spend as much time there as I should.”
“Why not?”
Chapter thirty-one
The Hoe Pad
Kenji
I swirled the rest of my cocktail, watching the curl of zest spiral through amber light.
Her question lingered in the air longer than I wanted it to.
I didn’t answer immediately.
How would I tell her my home was a lonely echo chamber that reminded me too much of being untouchable?
“Kenji. . .tell me.”
I put my view on her. "It’s too quiet in my mansion."
"But quiet sounds nice."
"Not this kind of quiet. Where every step you take bounces back at you like it’s asking why you even came home."
Her expression softened.
"Every sound echoes, my footsteps, the shift of fabric, the breath I take after a long day—it all comes back louder. As if the house wants me to feel. . .”
“Feel what?”
“The absence of something."
Nyomi didn’t speak.
I looked away. "So, I stay at my office more often than I should. Reo hates it, but I sleep at my club a lot."
She smirked. "You sleep in that dark-ass club like Batman?"
I let out a soft laugh. "Sometimes."
"You say your mansion is quiet, but I bet you have tons of women over.”
“No.” I shook my head. "No woman has gone there. I have an apartment in Roppongi for that. Or sometimes. . .I put the woman up in the Four Seasons as you know."
“As I know?” Nyomi frowned. "So, the Four Seasons Suite is your hoe pad?"
"It is not my hoe pad."
She gave me a look. "Kenji."
"It’s a nice suite."
"Don’t tell me it’s the same suite every time."
"No. And even if it was the same suite, there is housekeeping, Tora."
“Oh hell no.”
“Tora, this is a nice suite—”
“I’m glad I never stepped foot in that room. Because I’m not one of your women—”
“No. You’re the reason I’ll never need another woman.”
She narrowed her eyes. "If I’d found out I was sleeping in your hoe pad, you wouldn’t have gotten another date. In fact. . .I’m taking some points away from your score right now."
I leaned in, slow and close, until there was barely space between our mouths. “You can pretend to take points away from me, naughty Tiger. You can play the game of indignation. But let’s not lie to each other—not tonight.”
“There is no lie in my statement.”
“Hoe pad or not, you would have given me a second date.” I brushed the back of my fingers across her jaw, savoring the way her breath caught. “You knew from the moment of our first kiss that you had already surrendered.”