26. The Dragon’s Heart
Chapter twenty-six
The Dragon’s Heart
Kenji
The hallway shifted from chaos to tense choreography.
Reo stepped into the room first, rubbing the bridge of his nose like the whole situation had drained him dry. His collar was wrinkled. His sleeves pushed up. His expression was pure exhaustion wrapped in murder.
Then came the thunder of pink.
Kiko stormed in like she was marching to a throne that was never hers. Her blush-pink dress clung to every curve. Pearls glinted from her wrists. Her face was dark with fury and drama.
I looked at Kiko’s belly and saw not a miracle, but a fucking question mark wrapped in pearls and entitlement. I saw manipulation. I saw strings waiting to be pulled. I saw her trying to wrap my dynasty in her silk and play mother to empires she had no right to touch.
She thought the children in her womb—if they were mine—would crown her queen?
But queens were chosen by power, not pregnancy.
I hope to God those kids are not mine. She should pray that they aren’t mine too.
Because if they were, I already knew what I would have to do.
Raise them in my image.
Teach them the blade, the art, the code.
Make them killers, thinkers, rulers.
And keep them the fuck away from her.
Because if I left them with Kiko—even for a year—she would poison their minds. Teach them softness disguised as greed. Teach them arrogance without strength. Teach them to smile pretty and lie slowly.
I couldn’t have that.
Not with my sons.
Not with the future of this throne.
Be careful what you wish for, Kiko.
She continued forward and right behind her—like a circus act too proud to know it was the punchline—came her entourage. Her cousins. Her assistants. All of them dressed like royalty and acting like hyenas.
The moment they entered, the war room tensed again. Weapons were not drawn, but they might as well have been. My men shifted. Eyes narrowed. Claws. Fangs. Scales. No one spoke.
But I could feel them watching me.
Watching her.
And watching Nyomi.
My brother muttered to the Claws. “Two queens. One crown. Should we get popcorn. . .or body bags?”
I sneered.
Body bags.
Kiko got to us and stopped.
Too fast.
Too loud.
Too entitled.
She didn’t bow to me as she was supposed to.
Didn’t wait.
Didn’t even lower her gaze.
She glanced at Nyomi, and the look wasn’t casual.
It wasn’t curiosity.
It was murder.
Full-body loathing wrapped in pearls and pink silk.
A glare so sharp it could’ve cut my Tiger’s flesh.
Careful.
As if she heard me, Kiko narrowed her eyes. Her nostrils flared once. Her hand twitched at her side. Not toward her stomach. Not in maternal protectiveness.
Toward her wrist.
The one she used to slap people.
A few feet beside her, Nyomi didn’t move, flinch, or look her way. She just stood with her weight angled slightly on one leg—hip cocked, like a woman in complete command of her posture.
Nyomi hadn’t heard her official title yet, and still she looked like a queen.
That made me think of something my mother would always say.
“Power doesn’t need to scream. It radiates.”
That being said. . .there was a threatening steel in my Tiger’s gaze. A warning behind the polish. A quiet snarl beneath the lipstick. And it all said, “Don’t fuck with me.”
Kiko hissed and then turned to me. A second later, her voice sliced through the silence, shrill and impatient. “I have been trying to talk to you all day, and your Roar would not let me enter.”
I didn’t answer right away because something dark had just coiled low in my stomach. That stare she gave Nyomi. That tight twitch in her wrist. That venom leaking out of her face before she even opened her mouth.
I didn’t know what happened between them in the hallway. Didn’t know what words were exchanged. What looks passed.
I doubted Kiko behaved herself. And that alone made my teeth grind.
Somehow, I kept my voice even. “Speak in English.”
“Why? Because she can’t even speak Japanese?” Her chin jerked toward Nyomi. “She is an outsider!”
Fast, I stood.
Cock no longer erect.
Mind no longer entertained.
Just done.
The shift in me was immediate. Physical. A pulse of danger that tightened every muscle in the space.
Kiko went silent. Her crew—those same cousins and assistants who had barked like feral dogs in the hallway—suddenly remembered how to shut the fuck up.
They didn’t run.
But they backed away almost five feet.
Maybe six.
Tet, the boldest of the bunch, took three extra steps and pressed himself to the wall like it could protect him from what I might do.
Even Nyomi inched away, her posture tightening like she’d felt the temperature drop ten degrees.
Slowly, I prowled over, stopped right in front of Kiko and looked down at her. I let her feel my height. My power. Let her breathe in the threat I wrapped around my violence. “How are the babies?”
Her bottom lip quivered.
Sighing, she touched her stomach. Her fingers were delicate and slow. One of my Ear’s most practiced moves. The kind she used when she wanted to look soft.
Fragile.
Untouchable.
But I’d seen this act before because being my Ear was never just about sex. It was about performance. Every word, every breath, every lowered lash was a weapon. Gaslighting wrapped in silk. Guilt packaged like loyalty. Sweetness sharpened into control. That was the craft. That was the power.
Kiko had turned the highest-ranking politicians in Japan with those tactics. Had made them fold, cry, apologize, send money, spill secrets.
She could make a man feel like a monster and a messiah in the same hour—and not remember how she’d done it.
But she wouldn’t win with me.
Because I was the one who had taught her how.
She spoke in that overly sweet, high-pitched voice—feminine to the point of infantilized. Like a little girl playing innocent in front of the executioner. “ Your sons are fine.”
I frowned. “We don’t know if they’re mine.”
I knew those words cut her cleaner than a blade ever could. But I needed to say them. Not for Kiko, but for Nyomi.
Because truth mattered.
Sighing again, Kiko returned her voice to normal, telling me that I had knocked her off her little game. “These precious babies growing within my womb are yours. I feel this deep in my heart and soul.”
Hiro’s voice cut in from behind. “But they could be mine too.”
Like a bomb dropped, the whole room detonated into reactions. My Fangs and Claws snickered. Many Scales exchanged glances with others. It was clear this gossiped theory had reached many ears.
However, Kiko’s crew turned in unison—snapping their heads toward Hiro like a flock of startled birds. Even Tet, still backed against the wall and dripping sweat, blinked at him with disbelief.
Aww. She didn’t tell you that she fucked us both in the same week?
I checked my Tiger. Nyomi’s eyes had gone wide and her mouth was parted. For a few seconds, she flicked her attention between Hiro and Kiko, then over to me, and blinked.
I put my view back on my Ear, ready to end this conversation.
Kiko’s lips parted, but no sound came out. No denial. No scolding. Just a tight, stunned little breath that gave her away more than words ever could. And then she slowly turned toward him, eyes wide, fury and fear dancing in her lashes. “K-kenji. . .can we speak alone?”
“We cannot.”
Hiro chuckled. “As the possible father, I definitely think I should be present. In fact, should we call other men in this room too? There has to be at least three more guys that dropped a load in you that month.”
Kiko’s entire face crumbled into rage. “They’re not yours—”
“How do you know?” Hiro’s words were calm. “It was twice. Right?”
“They’re not yours. A woman knows.” Kiko jabbed her finger his way. “And you don’t get to talk to me that way!”
“Hmmm,” Hiro said. “Perhaps, we don’t count the second time. You swallowed.”
The twins coughed, yet I knew they were holding back laughter.
“You are disgusting!” Kiko spat.
“How am I disgusting? I didn’t tell you to swallow,” Hiro barked back. “Wait. Maybe I did tell you to swallow.”
The room erupted in low, strangled laughter—half of it shocked, the other half uncontainable.
I looked back at them.
They went dead silent.
I returned my attention to Kiko.
She was trembling now. Hands on her belly. Eyes darting. A woman used to control, realizing the script had flipped. Realizing a large amount of the audience no longer believed her performance.
And worst of all, realizing the spotlight was no longer hers.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “If the babies are fine, then you shouldn’t be standing in front of me.”
Kiko’s eyes shot daggers at Hiro. She looked like she wanted to rip out his tongue, but she turned back to me and tried again, this time with more sweetness in her voice. “Please. . .Kenji. . .can we speak alone? Away from her . Away from your brother.”
“We cannot.”
“But I have grievances, Kenji.”
“That is not my problem. You have a situation. Talk to Eiji. I put him in place to handle your needs.”
“I was taken from Kyoto in the middle of the night with no explanation—”
“Do you need an explanation?”
She blinked.
Once.
Slowly.
“No.” She cleared her throat.
I sneered. “Are you sure. . . Ear ?”
A small sound escaped her. Almost a cough, but not quite. Another attempt to reset the mood. “I-I’m sure.”
“Good.” I leaned my head to the side. “Anything else?”
“They say you bombed Tokyo and you are going to war with the Fox.”
“ Who says?”
“Everyone.” She trembled. “I do not have my phone. Your men took it from me.”
“You don’t need your phone to enjoy this island.”
“I have family in Tokyo. I want to check on them.”
“I see.” I let the pause stretch. “And what family of yours would still be in Tokyo? Reo made sure that your aunts and cousins were brought here.”
Her voice faltered. “Family does not mean blood. I have others. Plus. . .friends. Please. . .I would like a phone.”
“You will not get one.”
Her mouth pressed into a tight frown. Then she turned to Nyomi, and her voice grew cold. “Who is she?”
I didn’t owe Kiko a goddamn thing.
Not an explanation.
Not a name.
Not a breath of clarity to soothe her pride.
She wasn’t my wife and damned sure not my queen. She had always been only a tool I used for strategy and like all tools, her value diminished the second she stopped serving her purpose.
But I didn’t answer to her. Not when I was the one who’d pulled her out of a brothel in Hiroshima. Not when I’d put a roof over her head, trained her tongue to speak lies sweet enough to seduce diplomats, and taught her how to weaponize silence like a second skin.
But Nyomi would want me to answer. It appeared that she still did not know her place in my life. Nyomi didn’t ask the question out loud, but I saw it in the tilt of her chin.
Tora. . .you still doubt my feelings for you?
“Who is she?” I gestured toward my Tiger. “This is Nyomi. She is my girlfriend.”
Then I looked back at Kiko. “But to you, she is the Dragon’s Heart.”