Page 132 of The Dragon 2
Broken sobs of apology.
Hiroko stood next to me, holding her whip and smiling the whole time.
He never returned to bother her again.
Since then, Hiroko served asmy Eyesin this district. She cultivated secrets with silk gloves and tea.
Her club was my listening post for the kinky elite. The kind of place where politicians lost their inhibitions, heirs revealed addictions, and foreign diplomats whispered betrayal into the mouths of their mistresses.
She reported it all. Without ego. Without embellishment. Always with names, dates, and—when needed—photos.
Last year, it was Hiroko who warned me of a Chinese shipping magnate smuggling weapons through the Gilded Port under false emerald manifests. No one in my inner circle had caught it. Customs was paid off. Officials swore ignorance.
But Hiroko?
She’d spotted the truth by scent.
Literally.
“His bodyguard wore Bleu de Chanel,” she told me at the time, sipping from a teacup. “But his luggage reeked of gun oil, sweat, and salt. You should probably look into it.”
Hiroko’s instinct was right. We intercepted the cargo two nights later. Twelve crates of unregistered rifles. Two of them engraved with a former Yakuza clan’s insignia.
I rewarded her with an oldochayaestate on Kuroyama Hill—a discreet, elevated property that overlooked the city but sat cloaked in privacy.
Now, here she was, staring at me like I’d walked into the wrong book.
Her lips parted delicately. “I’m so sorry, Kenji, but did we. . .have a meeting this evening? I apologize if I forgot. However. . .I do not see how I would have forgotten a meeting withyou.”
I raised a hand. “No. I was invited here. For a date.”
She blinked.
Once.
Then again.
“A date?”
I nodded.
“You are. . .Nyomi’s guest?”
“Yes.”
Another pause came as if she was still not quite believing what was going on. “You?”
“Yes.”
A third blink. Then, “Oh my.”
A dark chuckle slipped from me.
“When I saw your Roar earlier and walked him through the back halls, I assumed it was some corporate associate that you all were dealing with. Maybe a liaison from Beijing or a tech heir from Seoul. Not. . .you.” She shook her head, but she recovered instantly. “Had I known it was the Dragon himself, I would’ve worn sapphires or diamonds.”
“You do not need jewels. You are stunning without them.”
She let out a nervous chuckle. “Please, follow me, Mr. Sato.”
