Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I quirked my brows. “Are you going to talk to Watari?”
“I am. Your other guards too. Just in case.”
“And. . .if you discover that it is him?”
“Then. . .he’ll be having a very bad day, Tora.”
Fuck.
I swallowed down fear and went silent, but my thoughts were noisy as hell. If I were right, then Watari would surely be dead by tomorrow.
My stomach twisted with guilt, but I did my best to shove it away. The truth was, I didn’t know what justice looked like in Kenji’s world. I didn’t know how forgiveness worked here, or if it did at all. Watari might’ve handed over information that put Kenji, Reo, Hiro, and all these families at risk. Children. Lovers. Everyone.
That wasn’t a small thing.
So if he was the traitor perhaps. . .he deserved what was coming.
But even with all that truth stacked up like bricks, I still felt the tiniest weight pressing down on my chest. Not regret. Just this human sadness. And maybe a little fear of what the Dragon’s justice looked like.
We continued on and then I saw it, just beyond a slope of stone steps and Sakura trees in full bloom despite the season.
His mansion.
Oh my God. Of course his place here would be the most impressive.
The entire structure was elevated on a stone platform, surrounded by a shallow ring of still water.
Part temple.
Part fortress.
Part dream.
The roof curved upward at the edges in sweeping arcs with shimmering black tiles. Gold ridges traced the roof beams. Massive wooden columns held up the wide eaves.
But it was the glass that stole my breath. Panels of it rose high—tall and seamless. The front façade was anchored by a towering wall of glass, framed in black steel, that revealed the interior glow in golden silhouettes. Behind the glass, I glimpsed paper lanterns, calligraphy scrolls, and the soft movement of silk curtains.
A small arched bridge crossed the moat, and its handrails were carved with dragons and cranes in mid-flight.
At the entrance, two bronze lion-dog komainu statues stood sentinel—one with its mouth open, the other closed.
“This is beautiful.” I looked at it as we got closer. “Was this mansion already here? Or did you build on it?”
“It was here, but I had it expanded. The villas where you see my men moving in their families. . .those are new too.”
“Amazing.”
The closer we got, the quieter Kenji became. Not withdrawn, just. . .composed. Still in that impossibly gentle way of his, as if he were holding too many things inside and refusing to let any of them spill.
We stopped at the base of a narrow bridge.
The water beneath us shimmered silver, the surface reflecting the towering glass and gold edges of the mansion.
Kenji stepped in front of me, tenderly squeezed my hand as he helped me onto the bridge. His other hand touched my waist as I stepped forward, steadying me. But it didn’t feel like he did it because I needed it, but because he needed that connection.
Halfway across the bridge, one of his Eyes appeared from the shadows and spoke, “Hiro and the Claws are on their way now. Reo is on a helicopter and enroute as well—with the rest of the Fangs.”
Kenji dismissed him with a nod.
Good. Reo is safe.
The Eye vanished back into the shadows.
We crossed the bridge and left it.
Once we got close to the mansion, several servants dressed in white opened the doors.
Kenji grinned. “Welcome home, Tora.”
The scent of hinoki wood and incense hit me first.
Inside the threshold, a polished wooden step waited for us, elevated slightly from the stone we stood on. Beside it was a low lacquered bench and a traditional Japanese shoe cabinet, elegant in black and gold.
A small silk cushion rested beside it, just beneath a carved wooden crane.
Without a word, Kenji let go of my hand.
I got ready to take off my heels.
“No. Allow me.” He stepped forward, lowered himself to the ground, and knelt in front of me.
His Eyes exchanged shocked looks. What did they think as they saw their boss—the Dragon—kneeling for a woman and attending to her feet like a servant?
Staring at my heels, he licked his lips, lowered himself even more, and kissed the tip of each heel before removing the first and then the second.
Some of his men stirred.
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
When both shoes were off, I stood barefoot on the step, feeling the warmth of the wood beneath my toes.
Not done yet, Kenji stroked slow circles over my ankle bones with his thumbs. Next, he let out a low groan under his breath as he ran his hand along the curve of my arch.
Fuck.
So sweet, he cradled one foot in both hands, then bowed his head, and pressed his lips softly to my big toe.
My knees weakened. “Kenji. . .”
More of his men shifted their weight as if witnessing a ritual they weren’t meant to see. A few widened their eyes and looked in the other direction.