Chapter 15 The Dragon’s Law
Chapter fifteen
The Dragon’s Law
Nyomi
My nerves were still humming from the moment with Hiro.
His sadness.
His nearness.
The rough edge of his voice.
The way our laughter and singing had clung to me long after I’d left the kitchen—raw, human, and too familiar.
It reminded me that under all the muscles, tattoos, and weapons, these men were just wounded boys who’d been taught survival instead of love.
That was why for me feeding him had been so important. It was a medicine that I’d learned from my grandma.
Love disguised as breakfast.
Healing concealed in hollandaise.
I hope he gets some sleep after he finishes eating.
The guards led me to an elevator I didn't even know existed. It was hidden behind what I'd thought was a decorative panel in the hallway.
I'd passed that panel a few times, and always thought it was stunning—hand-painted with delicate cherry blossoms drifting across a gold-leafed background, their pale pink petals floating in an eternal spring breeze.
I knew from my research that this was traditional ukiyo-e—art meant to make one pause and breathe. In the Edo period, artists like Hokusai and Hiroshige captured fleeting beauty—courtesans, kabuki, cherry blossoms. This panel was clearly inspired by those masters.
One of the guards pressed his palm against a cluster of blossoms in the lower corner.
A click sounded.
Then, the entire panel glided open, revealing steel doors behind it.
So cool.
Another guard maneuvered the cart of food through the opening. Its wheels squeaked slightly.
I went on with the rest of the guards and realized that the elevator car was roomier than I'd expected.
Inside there was wood paneling and a faint scent of cypress.
Soft music drifted from hidden speakers. It was the gentle plucking of strings.
It felt like stepping into someone’s secret calm—a place that wasn’t meant for chaos.
A guard pressed the button for the third floor, and as the doors whispered shut, I caught several of the guards glancing down at the cart. Their eyes lingered on the carefully wrapped bento boxes stacked on the lower shelf.
The youngest guard smiled as he looked at a box.
Aww. He likes his little surprise.
I was starting to understand that even killers liked to be loved on and fed.
Warmth bloomed in my chest.
I'll make more for them this week.
I thought of things that would travel well in a bento box. My grandma's hot peppered sausage balls popped into my mind immediately. Sautéed garlic, peppers, Bisquick, cheddar, sausage, and cream cheese—my grandma’s southern alchemy.
They were perfect at any temperature, held together beautifully, and had that savory, comfort-food taste that always made me close my eyes on the first bite.
Yeah. That’s what I’ll make the guards tomorrow.
The thought of sharing a piece of the South with these guards who'd been so kind to me felt right, like building a bridge between worlds, one carefully packed bento box at a time.
It reminded me that when my grandma fed someone, it was her way of saying, “I care about you, and your feelings are safe with me.”
The elevator hummed as we ascended, and for once, I didn't feel like I was being escorted.
I looked up at my guard on the right. "Is this the only elevator in the house?"
"There are three of them throughout the mansion."
“I wonder why Sako didn’t show me, during my house tour.”
“Usually only service staff and guards use it.”
“Aww. Got it.”
We rode up, and the smell of Eggs Benedict and banana bread filled the small space.
The elevator stopped at the third floor and the doors slid open.
Warm light spilled out.
I stepped forward. . .and froze.
What the hell?
Kenji stood in the middle of the hallway.
Naked.
Completely, gloriously naked.
His back was to me, hands fisted at his sides. His entire body radiated fury as he glared at his own guards positioned near our bedroom door.
He must have just woken up.
I did my best not to laugh at the absurdity of it—the Dragon, stark naked in the hallway, having what looked like a standoff with armed men who were desperately trying not to make eye contact with their boss's cock.
But God, that body.
Tattoos rippled across his broad back—dragons snarling, scales gleaming dark red. His muscles were carved and perfect. And his ass—muscular, tight, absolutely ridiculous in how good it looked.
Lusty heat slid through me so fast I had to brace a hand on the cart.
Then one of the guards gestured toward me.
Kenji turned.
My breath fractured.
The world narrowed to him—skin, muscles, and ink. His cock hung heavy between his muscular thighs. The gold rose piercing caught the sunlight. His abs were a landscape of ridges and immaculate layering. His chest rose and fell with barely contained rage.
His voice carried to me. “Naughty Tiger.”
What did I do?
I bit my lip, hard.
We were approaching now, my guards pushing the food cart slowly forward like they were heading towards a wild animal.
Once we got close, I gave him a weak smile. “Good morning, Kenji.”
"Tora." His voice was a low growl. "You don't leave the bed without me."
Excuse me? The bed? Not the room, but don’t leave the fucking bed. Have you lost your mind?
The nerve of him, yet. . .there was a part of me that really liked this possessiveness and honestly that terrified me the most.
Girl. . .
His men were around. I didn’t want to yell back at him in front of them, so I kept my voice steady. "Why not?"
"Because you're to be at my side always."
I stopped in front of him and gestured to the cart. "And what if I want to surprise you with breakfast?"
His eyes flicked to the cart.
I watched some of the anger drain from his face as I lifted the top to his plate and he took in all the food—the perfectly plated Eggs Benedict and the potatoes. I put the top back on.
Then, he glanced at the bento boxes on the cart’s lower shelf, frowned, and put his gaze back on me. "There is a spy on the island."
"I know." I stepped closer. "There are also dangerous men in this house ready to protect me."
Kenji's gaze grew dark and intense. He was clearly not used to a woman talking back to him. The line of his jaw twitched.
"Tora. Do not leave my side again until the spy is off the island." The low rasp of his voice slid right through me. Anger, command, desire—he made them all sound lush and sensual.
I almost opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought about being ordered around like a possession.
That I was a grown woman who could make her own decisions.
That "at my side always" sounded a lot like a leash, and I didn't do leashes—not for anyone, no matter how beautiful or powerful or Dragon-like they thought they were.
But the words died on my tongue.
Because he had a point.
There was a spy on the island.
He was at war.
Men had died.
More would die too.
And standing here in front of Kenji—naked, furious, and clearly terrified in a way he'd never admit—I could see the stress carved into every line of his body. The tension in his shoulders. The barely controlled panic beneath his rage.
This wasn't about control.
Not completely.
Beneath all his outward fury, I could see inner terror. His pupils blown wide and dark like a cornered animal's. His breath coming out in shallow bursts through flared nostrils, the kind of primal panic that ripped through even the most powerful predator when what they loved most was threatened.
Aww, baby. I’m fine.
I didn't like being told what to do, but I also wasn't stupid. I understood the danger swirling around us, even if I didn't want to admit how much it scared me too.
So, I gave in.
For now.
I just hoped this possessiveness would truly leave once the spy was gone. Because if this was who Kenji was all the time—a man who couldn't let me walk down a hallway alone—we were going to have problems.
Big ones.
I moved into his space, my body drawn to his like tide pulled by the moon. Heat rolled off his skin in waves. I hadn’t even touched him yet, but I could already feel him.
When my cheek finally pressed against his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my ear. The sound of his breathing was heavy, uneven, brushing against my ear. His lush scent filled my lungs until I was dizzy with it.
"I'm sorry," My lips brushed his skin with each word. "I will stay by your side."
His powerful arms enveloped me, wrapping me in a cage of protection and possession until there was nothing between us but shared breath and racing hearts.
Meanwhile, the guards wheeled the cart past us into the bedroom. I heard them distributing the bento boxes to Kenji's guards who'd been stationed outside our door.
Kenji's body went rigid in my arms. He pulled back, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. "What is this? Food for my guards?"
I blinked up at him. "Yes."
The guards had already accepted the bento boxes but froze completely, holding the wrapped packages with the careful stillness of men who'd just realized they were standing in a minefield.
They didn't dare open them.
Didn't move.
One guard's eyes flicked down to his box—just once, quickly—and I swear I saw longing. They could clearly smell the banana bread through the wrapping.
The Dragon sneered at them. “Put those back on the cart!!”
“No!” I raised my eyebrows. "Kenji, what are you doing?!"
"I implemented a new law this morning." His voice carried that dangerous edge. "No one is to eat your food. Beginning today. Now. . .I was thinking about changing it, but I haven’t just yet."
I stared at him—still naked, still furious, still absurdly beautiful. “Can we let the guards hold their boxes and we talk about this?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
Good. Because I’m about to knock you out.