A broken part of me—twisted and long-restrained—wanted it.
Wanted her splayed on this table, thighs spread, with Hiroko watching.
Wanted the ritual of it.
The humiliation of it.
The crown stripped from my head by the woman Ichoseto kneel for.
And Nyomi saw it in my eyes as she smiled like she hadn’t just detonated hunger inside me and shattered my control.
I sat there—flushed, hard, and trembling.
Tora. . .
She had saidthatto me.
The Dragon.
I was orchestrating a war under all of Japan’s eyes. At this very moment, my men were putting my plans in motion. Bombs would detonate by my command. The Fox’s empire would bend. Blood would flow, and the shadows would shift. I was dismantling it all bone by bone.
And yet. . .this woman—this Tiger—sat beside me with her thighs crossed and her gaze soft, and she had more sway over my body, my mind, my fucking soul, than any weapon I’d ever held.
She wasn’t kneeling.
She wasn’t afraid.
She was smiling.
Watching.
Mastering me with silence.
And I. . .wanted her to tighten her grip and make me ache.
The war outside was mine.
But the war inside?
Shemayhave already won it.
Alright. You win this round too. But that will be it.
Nyomi quirked her brows. “Are you ready for us to begin?”
I cleared my throat and damn near groaned out my next words. "Yes. Now we may begin, Tora."
She smiled—fuck me, she smiled—and tilted her head just enough to let the curls brush over her shoulder. "Why thank you, Dragon."
My body thrummed at her sayingDragon. I couldn’t explain how I knew it, but I was certain that she said it differently tonight. The way she spoke that one word. . .not like she was impressed, but like she alreadyownedme.
Did Hiroko teach her how to say my name that way? Or was she always doing this?
I shook my head but couldn’t get out of the daze.
“So. . .” Nyomi rested one hand close to the first heart-shaped tray. "My grandmother used to say that before our people couldread or write, we told stories through food. Tonight. . .I thought I would tell youmystory."
"I’m honored."