8. The Dragon’s Lair
Chapter eight
The Dragon’s Lair
Nyomi
Sako moved like ink over water—fluid and precise. His outfit was all white, cut in a traditional Japanese silhouette with sharp shoulders and a high collar, but tailored perfectly.
Not a thread out of place.
Not a wrinkle in sight.
He walked next to me, and we moved through a long glass corridor first, the floors beneath us glowing faintly with embedded light strips.
Wow.
“This way,” Sako said gently, opening a wide black-and-gold paneled door.
The first room we entered was a pool room—not like the ones in hotels or spas. This one had no chlorine sting in the air. The entire space smelled of jasmine. The carved stone pool was deep and narrow, its water still as glass.
A massive dragon sculpture curled around the back wall.
Steam rose from its nostrils and drifted into the air.
“You are welcome to use this room anytime.” Sako slightly bowed. “It’s cleaned daily.”
I nodded, but my gaze lingered on the dragon.
It looked too lifelike.
Like it might blink.
The next room was a private sauna, tucked behind a hidden door beside the pool. It was all golden wood slats and warm stone benches. Low flute music played from somewhere in the walls.
Sako gestured to it. “The Dragon prefers to sweat alone here after tense meetings.”
“Okay. Noted.”
From there, we passed a lounge with sleek black seating and a wall-length screen.
“This is one of two theaters. This one is for casual viewing. The Dragon’s Roar likes to spend a lot of time here.”
“Really?”
Sako nodded.
“What does Reo like to watch? Action movies? Comedy?”
“Reo enjoys classic black-and-white noir films.”
“Aww.”
“American, mostly. Gritty detective stories. Femme fatales.”
“That’s surprising.”
“The Dragon occasionally joins him.”
My curiosity perked. “Do you know which ones are Reo’s favorites?”
“Yes. That is my job.” Pride covered Sako’s face. “ The Third Man . Double Indemnity . Out of the Past . Sunset Boulevard . He also has a peculiar fondness for Gilda .”
“With Rita Hayworth?”
Sako inclined his head. “He has watched it sixteen times.”
“Very cool.”
So. . .the Dragon’s Roar wasn’t just all growl, order, and guns.
There was something softer underneath. Something literary. Melancholic, even. Maybe that’s why Kenji trusted him because Reo understood shadows in more than just a tactical sense. He studied them. Sat with them. Watched them flicker across the screen and listened for what wasn’t said.
I could suddenly picture Reo in one of those chairs, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, a drink sweating on the table beside him, watching Gilda like it held a secret he hadn’t solved yet.
Sako spoke, “The entire collection is loaded into the system right now, should you wish to watch something tonight, the interface is voice-activated. Simply say ‘noir’ and the lounge will adjust lighting, screen, and sound for optimal effect.”
“So cool.” I looked around the sleek space, suddenly able to imagine myself curled up on one of the love seats, sipping something warm and watching shadowy men in trench coats betray each other while Rita Hayworth looked amazing.
I smiled. “I might actually do that one night.”
“The other theater is underground, massive, and. . .more formal. It has not been used yet, but I believe with everyone here. . .the Dragon will hold movie nights for his men and their families.”
Warmth hit me square in the chest.
It wasn’t just control Kenji offered his people. It was care. Plus, he didn’t just protect them, he made space for them to breathe. To have joy. To sit beside the people they loved and feel safe, even if only for two hours under flickering light and surround sound.
Sako guided us through another set of polished sliding doors, and we entered Living Room One. That’s how he said it. Like it was capitalized. Living Room One.
It was huge. Sunken leather sofas arranged around a black fireplace that didn’t use wood, but some kind of glowing stone. The walls were floor-to-ceiling glass on two sides, revealing the sea and cliffs beyond. Every surface gleamed. Even the throw pillows looked expensive.
“And this,” Sako led me to the next space, “is Living Room Two.”
This one was moodier. Dark velvets, massive shelves stacked with rare books, low lighting and brass fixtures that made the whole place feel more like a cigar lounge for the gods. A fireplace here too—smaller and behind a carved iron screen shaped into cherry blossoms.
“Which one does Kenji use more?” I asked.
“Living Room Two.”
We continued on, and I felt like I was walking through a movie I hadn’t auditioned for. The mansion just kept going—hallways turning into wings, wings leading into other realms entirely.
We passed under an enormous archway and into the grand dining room.
I stopped.
The table stretched nearly the full length of the room, gleaming dark wood that could probably seat forty people.
A single bowl of perfect persimmons sat at the center like an offering.
Above it, a chandelier dripped with red crystals.
“This is where the Dragon dines. You will too. Of course.” He turned again, and I followed him down a hallway with walls the color of moonlight, until we reached a tall door etched with silver kanji.
“The Dragon’s office,” Sako said simply.
I peeked in through the slightly open door and caught a glimpse of black marble, thick books, and a massive desk.
Then he motioned for me to follow again, and I assumed we were going to yet another endless room for some equally ominous purpose—but when he opened the next door, my breath caught.
“This is your writing room.”
I blinked. “Mine?”
“Yes.”
The room was warm, sunlit through high windows, and there was a thick rug beneath a wide writing desk made of raw, pale wood. A new laptop was on top with a stack of empty notebooks and a large bowl of pens.
A reading nook hugged one corner with velvet cushions and a tray for tea or wine.
A shelf lined one wall—blank but waiting.
He didn’t say anything.
I just stood there, stunned.
Not by the luxury.
But by what it meant.
Kenji had made sure there was space for me .
For my work.
For my passion.
No one I’d ever been with had done that. I’d had men buy me earrings and book trips. They all said they supported me, but they never made space for me.
“I’m to find out what books you may need to fill the shelves.”
My throat went tight. “Thank you. . .I’ll have a list tomorrow.”
“Excellent.”
We moved on, but I was still reeling from my writing room when we reached a corridor guarded by four men in matching suits. They stood like statues, barely blinking.
“What’s this room?”
Sako glanced at them, then at me. “That is the Dragon’s War Room.”
“Oh. . .” I lingered as we passed the War Room, my steps slowing just enough to earn a glance from one of the guards.
The air outside that door felt heavier. Whatever went on behind those walls wasn’t just business. It was vengeance. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help imagining what the room looked like—was it screens and maps, or guns and bullets?
Did Kenji pace when he planned?
Did he raise his voice?
Did he sit in silence while others shook around him?
My palms tingled, and I caught myself holding my breath. I didn’t even know what I wanted—to open the door or run from it. All I knew was, if the writing room had been a gift. . .this place was a dangerous secret.
Sako kept walking and then guided us upstairs.
I waited until we’d climbed the first flight of stairs, before I finally asked, “Have you worked for Kenji a long time?”
Sako gave a faint smile. “Yes. As soon as I was old enough to walk.”
“What? You started as a kid?”
“Yes. We basically grew up together. My father was his father’s butler. I grew up in service—polishing the Dragon’s shoes and folding napkins before I knew how to ride a bike.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “I used to bring Kenji tea when he was a boy. I cleaned all of his stuffed animals too.”
My eyebrows rose. “Kenji had stuffed animals?”
“His mother called them the snuggle bunch. Lots of rabbits, wolves, a dragon of course, lions, tigers.”
“No bears?”
“Only a koala bear.”
I chuckled.
“As a kid he never understood that I couldn’t play with him. Kenji would always make me sit and play with him whenever his father wasn’t watching.”
“Would you get in trouble?”
“No. His mother and my father always smiled and watched us.”
“And so. . .you continued to work for Kenji in his adult years?”
Sako’s expression softened. “Later, when he went abroad and played professional football, he asked his father if he could bring me along.”
My smile grew wider. “Wait, really? You were with him during his athlete phase?”
“I was.”
“Did you enjoy that?”
He actually chuckled. “It was an incredible amount of fun. The games. The shopping. The parties. The cities. He barely needed me to do anything back then, and he forced me to wear different suits not the proper uniform. Secretly. . .I think he just wanted me to. . .”
“To what?”
“To have fun.” Sako cleared his throat. “Anyway. . .when he later took over the empire, my job shifted to something more. . .serious.”
He paused at the next door but didn’t open it. Instead, he looked at me with a glint of dry amusement. “Hiro calls me the Monk of the Mansion.”
“Do you think that fits?”
“I suppose it does, although monks usually don’t keep Glocks next to their nightstand.”
Alright, Sako. So you stay ready for war too.
He gestured to all the doors around us. “The second level is for the Roar, Claws, and Fangs.”
“They are housed here, and not in the villas?”
“Exactly. If there is ever a time when you feel unsafe, and the Dragon nor I are near come to this level.”
“Okay.”
“The men stationed here are loyal. Deadly. They will protect you without hesitation.” Sako held up one finger. “However. . .go to the Fangs first, if possible.”
“Why the Fangs first and not the Claws?”
He exhaled like it pained him. “Because. . .the Claws sleep naked.”
I choked back a laugh.
Sako looked genuinely disapproving. “I have addressed it many times. They do not care. ‘Comfort over protocol,’ they always say.”
Well. . .I bet all of them are kind of fine as hell, so . . . I may go to the Claws first.
I chuckled to myself.
Sako returned us to the staircase.
The stairs spiraled, narrowing the higher we climbed.
We made it to the top.
The hallway was a masterpiece. Smoked glass panels glowed softly behind illuminated etched kanji in deep navy ink. The characters flowed in wild strokes.
Sako pointed to a huge door. “This is where the Dragon and you will sleep.”
Oh my. Let’s see what we have here.