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)
There was no website. No public phone number.
You couldn't book a room unless you were personally invited by someone who already had access.
Politicians stayed there when they wanted to disappear from the public eye. CEOs used it for meetings that would never show up on any ledger.
Many times, I met with foreign crime syndicates in the private dining rooms on the thirty-second floor.
And the rooftop?
That was reserved exclusively for important helicopter landings.
The helipad was massive. Large enough to hold seven choppers at once.
I spotted the armed guards on the rooftop. They wore black suits and earpieces, and they were waving us down with illuminated batons, guiding us in like we were exactly what we appeared to be—government officials arriving for classified business.
According to Hiroko, the Shirogane had a relationship with Yoshiwara. An understanding. Wealthy clients would land here, take the private elevator down to the underground garage, and slip into unmarked cars that would drive them directly to the hidden entrances of the pleasure district.
She’d explained that the Prime Minister himself had used this route. So had half the Cabinet.
I believed it.
Big deals were made down in those tunnels. Nasty things happened in those rooms. The kind of things that would end careers if they ever saw daylight.
But we weren't using the cars or the main entrances like my father planned for.
Hiroko knew about a special service entrance. A secret that the hotel kept even from most of its elite clientele.
There was an elevator—older, industrial, meant for staff and deliveries—that went all the way down.
Past the underground garage.
Past the foundation.
Deep into the earth where it connected directly to the Yoshiwara tunnel system.
Hiroko had a key for it. A small bronze thing she'd shown me back on the island, worn smooth from decades of use.
That elevator would take us straight into the Yoshiwara depths.
But there was a problem.
I stared at the armed security on the rooftop guiding us in. “Stay alert, everyone.”
For now the guards would see the government helicopters and assume we were legitimate.
But the moment we started getting off—the moment they got a clear look at our faces—they'd recognize me, Reo, or Hiro.
They probably wouldn't shoot. Not right away. They knew what it meant to kill the Dragon.
But someone would reach for a radio or phone to warn my father.
Reo wouldn’t want us to kill anyone, so we would have to knock them out and get rid of all communication equipment.
Seconds later, the other helicopters were breaking off, heading to their own landing zones and spreading out across the city.
Okay. Everything is going according to plan for now.
I looked at Hiroko. Her two guards shifted closer to her, ready. "Stay close to me."
She nodded.
I looked around the helicopter at everyone else. Hiro. Reo. The Claws. All of them had their hands on their weapons now.
All of them knew what was about to happen.
The rooftop security was walking toward us, batons still lit, smiles on their faces like they were greeting honored guests.
They had no idea.
Let’s begin.
Chapter thirty-four
Bullets and Blood
Kenji
The helicopter began to touch down on the rooftop of the Shirogane Hotel, and I looked out at the security guards waiting for us.
They wore black suits and earpieces and waved us in with illuminated batons, guiding the helicopters to their landing zones like they did this every day.
I looked out my window and took in the security guard closest to our helicopter as he stepped forward. The lights from his baton swept across his face, and then lower. His collar shifted slightly as he moved.
And that's when I saw it.
A fox.
Branded into the side of his neck. Dark ink in the shape of my father's symbol.
My hand went to my gun.
I thought about my own people. The Claws. The Roar. The Fangs. The Eyes. We were united as one body—a family built on loyalty and choice.
My father saw his men as possessions. To be in his inner circle, he branded and marked the man like cattle, putting his symbol on their neck.
"Reo." I gestured to the window.
He leaned forward and looked. Then his jaw tightened. "Those aren't Yoshiwara guards. They’re the Fox's inner circle."
Hiro sneered. "Let’s get them.”
I counted twenty guards, maybe more. Every single one had the fox brand on their neck. For a rooftop this size, that was a skeleton crew. "Save your bullets for the bigger fish."
Hiro tilted his head. "The Fox didn't expect trouble from the sky."
"Which means they had no idea we'd come this way. Good." Reo's fingers went to the small mic at his collar and pressed it. "Kill all the guards on the rooftop. Now."
Before my other helicopters could even land, their doors burst open and bullets poured out in deadly waves.
One of the guards tried to run, arms pumping. Made it three steps before a bullet punched him in the back of the head. His body pitched forward. He dropped face-first onto the concrete, shattering his jaw. Blood sprayed. Teeth scattered.