Page 131 of The Dragon 1
“She did.”
“Hiro can’t help himself when it’s doused in chocolate.”
“Apparently, at another food stall, Nura flinched and jumped back fast because the grill flared too high.”
My jaw clenched.
I knew exactly what that kind of flinch meant. Trauma memory. A flash of fire in the wrong setting and your body responded before your brain could catch up.
“And what did Hiro do?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“He pulled her away and. . . whispered something to the stall owner. After that he didn’t say anything else. Just stepped between her and the flame. Hand on her back, they walked to the next stall. However. . . our people reported that the stall owner closed for the day.”
Of course he did.
Reo smiled. “Hiro was a perfect gentleman.”
With someone like Nura—who’d come from war zones and cages—trust was never loud. It was quiet. Slow. Built in small, stupid moments like dumplings, fried chicken, and taiyaki eaten off paper napkins.
My throat tightened.
The car turned a corner, and the hospital came into view—cold and sprawling, its high glass facade shining under the streetlamps like a mausoleum of power.
I looked at Reo and ran my thumb across the ribbon on the box. “I have a feeling that whatever my father has in store for me tonight. . .my opening this present later will brighten whatever he tries to darken.”
Reo gave the barest nod. “I agree.”
We didn’t speak again until the gates of the private hospital appeared—tall, sleek, metallic. Reinforced like a fortress.
And guarded.
My father’s men were already outside—three of them, dressed like civilian staff but wearing the arrogance of killers.
My jaw clenched.
My chauffeur exited the car and opened my door.
I set my present on the seat next to me and stepped out into the chilly night air.
Reo followed.
We approached the glass doors.
A nurse behind the desk gave us a nod. Usually, she smiled and had a joyful greeting for me. Tonight, her lips were tight. I could see the fear in her eyes.
Inside, the lobby was sterile and sleek. It feltwrong. The tension was a second skin.
Two more men sat in the waiting area pretending to read magazines. Another leaned casually against the vending machine, fingers too close to his belt.
More of my father’s men attempting to blend in.
I turned to Reo. “He’s got more guards than usual stationed tonight.”
Reo’s expression was stone. “Your father’s probably anticipating Hiro and you gettingveryangry.”
My lips curled in a snarl. “What the fuck do you have in store for us, Father?”
The elevator pinged open.
