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)
Because I couldn't.
Couldn't watch Reo burn.
Couldn't lose him.
This man who'd been my shadow for years. My conscience. My brother in everything but blood. The one person who told me the truth even when the truth could get him killed.
Especially when it could get him killed.
Goddamn it.
Slowly, I released his hair.
Stepped back.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Reo straightened with a wince, one hand pressed against his ribs. Blood still dripped from his chin and spotted the polished floor.
He didn't wipe it away.
Didn't try to compose himself.
He just watched me.
Waiting.
"Reo. . .if you ever go behind my back again—if you ever make a decision about my Tiger without my permission—I will not stop. Do you understand me?” I leaned my head to the side. “I will not stop."
He held my gaze. "Understood."
"Now tell me." I stepped closer, and he held his ground even though it clearly cost him. "Was it worth it? This test of yours? This lesson you decided she needed to learn?"
Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth when he spoke, "I have one request.”
“What?”
“Ask me that at the end of the day when she's still here. When she's still choosing you. Ask me then."
You smug son of a bitch.
I wanted to hit him one more time. Instead, I turned and walked down the hallway.
My knuckles throbbed. I could feel Reo's blood drying in the creases of my fingers, tight and tacky. The skin over my right hand was already swelling—I'd hit him harder than I'd meant to.
Or maybe exactly as hard as I'd meant to.
Behind me, I heard Reo cough—wet and painful—and then the shuffle of his footsteps following.
He always followed.
Even when I wanted to kill him for it.
“Someone get my Roar a damned towel and a new shirt.” I flexed my hand, felt the ache radiate up my wrist, and let it ground me.
“Got it.” Satoshi hurried off in the other direction. “I’ll meet you both downstairs before you get to the Lion.”
I flexed my fingers and sneered.
And now for the fucking Lion.
Chapter three
The Subtle Dance
Kenji
The Lion is here. On my island.
That knowledge settled into my spine like a blade finding its sheath—not fear, but the cold clarity that came before violence.
We descended through all three levels—past the carved banisters, the silk runners, the artwork I'd collected over the years.
Somewhere beneath my ribs, the dragon stirred. Another predator had crossed into my territory without permission, and every instinct I had wanted to greet him with fire.
What does he want?
I kept my pace measured, my expression neutral. But my blood knew what my face wouldn't show—the Lion hadn't come to visit.
Lions didn't travel to watch.
They traveled to hunt.
To dominate and destroy.
I looked at Reo as he wiped blood from his chin. "How did the Lion know where we were? This location is secure."
"I assume his cousin."
Misha.
My shoulders wanted to tighten. I didn't let them. But the awareness was there, humming beneath my skin
Misha’s name conjured an image: devious eyes, sharp features, and the kind of stillness that made you wonder if he was human or machine. Misha was a cousin to Kazimir, the Lion, though not by blood.
Their connection ran deeper than genetics. Their fathers had risen through the Bratva together, forged in the same violence, bound by the same code.
By rights, Misha should have inherited the throne. His father, Igor, had been the one in power. But when it came time to choose the next leader, there had been no question. Kazimir was the strongest.
The boldest.
The deadliest of their generation.
He'd taken the crown by sheer force of will, and no one—not even Misha—had challenged him.
Granted, I didn't think Misha cared about sitting on the throne anyway. The man had one foot in the Bratva and the other in the digital world, where he was far more powerful than any crime boss could dream.
One of the best hackers alive.
Maybe the best.
If someone hoped to hide from the Bratva, they prayed Kazimir didn’t get Misha to search for them.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down the corridor that led toward the back of the mansion.
I glanced at Reo. “We go to my office first so you can change.”
My Roar nodded, understanding that I didn’t want the Lion to see that there had been a crack in our unit.
When we got there, my guards opened the door and Satoshi arrived with a towel and new shirt.
I entered my office.
The other Fangs took their positions without instruction.
Kaoru and Yoichi stayed inside the doorway.
Rin slid along the left wall, stopping short of the windows. Descended from Kyoto nobility, Rin moved through violence the way his ancestors had moved through tea ceremonies: with silence, restraint, and the understanding that death was simply another form of etiquette.
I found myself watching him longer than necessary.
The Emperor had fallen ill this month. The news had rippled through Japan like a stone dropped in still water, and I'd thought of Rin immediately. He was already a few heartbeats from the Chrysanthemum Throne. If the old man died, Rin's bloodline would shift dangerously close to the crown—close enough that his cousin would become an obstacle rather than a relative.