I hated that I understood what he meant.
Sighing, I put my view back on Reo. My Dragon’s Roar was already dissecting Hiro’s words, pulling at the mental thread, unraveling everything into neat lines of logic.
Reo adjusted his glasses with the edge of his knuckle. “That actually makes sense. Hiro’s right. It is personal. You represent something to him.”
“What is it I represent?”
“You are the Footman’s resentment with a face. He wants to punish you for existing.”
“And he thinks my father already paid?”
“Or he thinks your father is dying, so it doesn’t matter, but you. . .you’re still alive. Still powerful. Still beautiful.”
I stared at him. “You’re calling me beautiful?”
“I’m calling you symbolic, Kenji.” He allowed a soft smirk. “But yeah. You’re fucking beautiful. That’s the problem.”
My Fangs laughed even Hiro huffed a single chuckle.
Only Reo could call me beautiful in the middle of a murder briefing and make it feel like strategy, not seduction.
Then, Reo’s smile faded as he looked down at his phone. “Think about it. What if the Footman was young when it happened? A kid even? That would explain the intimacy with feet. Some trauma stunted him that deals with a woman’s foot.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Reo widened his eyes. “Maybe he saw his mother die.”
I felt something stir in my chest—not sympathy but a sharp clarity.
Hiro muttered. “If his mother’s love was stolen from him by our father then he will keep on cutting women’s feet until we end up killing him.”
Reo glanced at his screen and then tapped open a message. His long fingers danced across the digital keyboard, thumbs rapid and precise. “I’m telling Ali to run a deeper trace on any women that the Fox ever disposed of.”
“Good. Get this guy. We don’t have fucking time for a serial killer. We only have time for war.” I headed off. “Now let’s meet with the French.”
Everyone followed, and we moved as one, a ferocious beast— out of my suite and through the hall.
Up ahead, Scales parted like silk being sliced. They didn’t look up. They didn’t breathe too loud. They felt the storm coming and bowed to its inevitability.
Behind me, the sound of tailored suits shifting over holstered weapons whispered like danger humming.
The air bent around us.
Reo slid his phone into his breast pocket and matched my stride on the left.
Hiro took my right. Still silent. Still grieving. His gait was calm and smooth. Even broken, my brother was a weapon.
The Claws shadowed him like wolves.
We reached the elevator.
The mirrored doors gleamed.
When they opened, we stepped inside.
The elevator doors closed and we began our descent.
I glanced at Reo. "What about the French? Any updates before I go into this meeting?"