Chapter 28 Strategy Time #2
Reo looked back to Kenji. “But as long as any of the women might be compromised, they’re still a risk. They hear. They see. They talk. We need our most trusted with them, until Nyomi finishes her assessment.”
Kenji’s eyes went to the twins, then Hiro, then settled on me. “If they’re the spies, one or all of them, then I’ll be the one with them tonight.”
The air tightened.
“I’ll keep them close,” Kenji continued. “No access to systems, phones, or the war room. They’ll think I’m spending time with them. Meanwhile, my Tiger has this house to assess. She can tear up every floorboard if she wants.”
My pulse thudded hard, but I didn’t look away.
Hiro locked gazes with his brother. “While you’re with them, Nyomi will need protection. I’ll be next to her.”
Kenji didn’t hesitate. “You don’t leave her side. Not in this house. Not outside it. Not until this is finished.”
“Understood.”
The Fangs and Claws absorbed the new orders.
War outside.
Hunt inside.
Kenji's hand found my thigh again, and this time he didn't just rest it there. He squeezed—tender but possessive, a touch that said, ‘I've got you. They'll have to kill me before anything happens to you.’
My heart warmed.
"We move fast," Kenji’s gaze swept the room, "before the spies realize their messages never reached the Fox."
Then, quieter, meant only for me, he leaned in until his breath ghosted my ear. "You find them, Tora. I'll handle the rest."
A promise.
A threat.
A vow written in blood.
The room answered in quiet, lethal agreement.
Inside my head, the clock started ticking.
We had less than twenty-four hours to solve a puzzle before the pieces started killing back.
Reo unfolded his arms and then tapped a finger on the table. “Tonight, while Nyomi goes through the Scales’ rooms, we keep all three women someplace controlled. It should make them think it is a reward, not an interrogation.”
He glanced at Kenji. “They’ve been asking for a movie night with you for weeks. Let’s give it to them.”
Excuse me? What? Movie night?
The words sucked a little air out of my lungs.
Private movie theater.
Kenji.
Three gorgeous women who fluttered around him like trained butterflies.
I had to battle with not scowling at Reo.
Kenji’s expression didn’t change at first, but I felt the resistance in the way his fingers flexed against my thigh.
He hated the idea.
I probably shouldn't have spoken up, but I did, “Can there be another way? I don’t like the idea of Kenji being in a dark room with three possible spies.”
Reo’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t amused. “The Dragon won’t be vulnerable. The Fangs, and I will be there. They’ll think they’ve been granted a fantasy. Meanwhile, they’re in a box with all of us.”
Daisuke snorted.
“Giving them a movie night will feel like indulgence,” Reo said. “They’ll relax. They’ll talk. They may even slip.”
A faint smile tugged at Toma’s mouth. “Drunk on popcorn and the Dragon’s cologne, if they’re the spies that’ll be enough to make them talk.”
I didn't love the image that played in my head. Soft lighting. Expensive dresses. Three beautiful women arranged around Kenji in the dark like offerings at an altar.
I could see it too clearly—the way they'd lean in when they laughed, fingertips grazing his arm. The way they'd watch his profile more than whatever film played on the screen, studying the cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth.
My throat tightened.
My fingernails pressed into my palm under the table.
My man. Surrounded by three women who would carve out my heart if it meant they could take my place. The jealousy hit sharp and mean, curling in my chest. I hated that I felt it. Hated that some petty, possessive part of me wanted to stand up and announce that Kenji was mine.
It was stupid.
Childish.
But there it was anyway.
“Don’t worry.” Kenji’s gaze shifted to me as if he felt my jealousy rising. “If one or all three are part of the spy network, they’ll be sitting right next to their executioners. We won’t have to hunt them through the hallways. And it gives you time.”
"How long?" I asked.
"Movie, previews, lingering." Reo did the math out loud. "Ninety minutes. Maybe a little less."
I shook my head. "Not enough time to truly check three rooms. If I'm going to do this right, I need two hours minimum.
I'm not just looking for obvious evidence—I'm looking for things that don't fit.
Receipts that don't match their salary. Photos they shouldn't have.
Other things that are off in their rooms."
Kenji's hand tightened on my thigh, and when I looked at him, something fierce and proud burned in his eyes. “Then, three hours, Tora. We’ll figure it out.”
"Three hours," Reo agreed. “Yes. We can do that.”
Kenji looked at me. “While Reo and I are in the theater with the Scales, Nyomi and Hiro will go through their rooms, checking everything—drawers, trash, bathroom cabinets, under beds, digital devices if possible.”
“I’ll keep her safe.” Hiro’s hand slid closer to mine on the table, not touching, but near enough that I felt the heat rolling off his skin. “If this involves Hina, I’m there. If someone is going after your Tiger, I’m ready to fucking kill them.”
“Me too,” one twin said.
“Yes. Me too,” the other echoed.
They sat forward at the same time, and their chairs creaked. Matching determination sharpened their features.
One by one, the other Claws nodded, silent, bodies angling as if they were already preparing to move with us.
Reo shook his head immediately. “Absolutely not. All the Claws cannot head off with Nyomi.”
Hiro quirked his brows. "Why not?"
"If all of you suddenly hover around the West Wing tonight with the Dragon’s Heart, every staff member on this island will smell something burning."
Toma pushed back from the table slightly, his chair scraping. "It's our job to smell smoke. We don't like letting Hiro walk into a possible fire alone."
"I can’t be alone? Do I need protecting?" Hiro growled and cracked the lollipop between his teeth. What commenced was a succession of crunching sounds as he finished it and put the now empty stick away. “Do not worry about me. Focus on clearing the house.”
A few of the Claws grumbled.
Reo moved to the window, hands sliding into his pockets as he looked out at the darkening island. When he turned back, his expression had sharpened. “If every Claw abandons their usual patrols at the same time, what do you think the maids, cooks, and junior guards will do?”
No one answered.
“They’ll whisper,” Reo said. “They’ll stare. They’ll text each other. And we don’t know if one of them is the spy. So. . .the more normal we look, the better.”
Daisuke frowned. “Okay. We all can’t go, but some of us should. Like me.”
“No. Not you. Nyomi and Hiro are fine.” Reo pointed to us. “Them walking together tonight will appear normal. At this point, the whole island knows that they’ve cooked together. There’s been a lot of gossip today about it.”
Say what? Why are people gossiping about that?
Reo continued, “Nobody will think twice if Hiro walks her through the Scales’ wing under the pretense of showing her the house.”
Toma smirked. “True.”
“And the twins?” Kaede asked. “I would feel better if the twins went too.”
Reo looked at Hiro. “How often do Aki and Yuki trail you?”
“Since Nura. . .they’ve become my little stalkers. They trail me every day.” Hiro shrugged. “Apparently, the twins can’t get enough of me. They’re with me morning to night unless Kenji orders otherwise.”
Both twins snickered in unison.
However, Aki's snicker faded first, and something softer crossed his face—almost embarrassed. "We just. . .want to make sure you eat."
"And sleep," Yuki added, but his voice dropped lower, almost protective. "You forget to do both when we're not around."
Hiro's expression flickered—just for a second—with something that looked like gratitude before he buried it under a smirk. "They're my mother hens. It's annoying."
"It's necessary," both twins said together, no humor in their voices this time.
The weight of those words hung in the air. They weren't stalking Hiro because they were obsessed. They were keeping him alive because they'd already watched too many people they loved die.
“So, if the twins are with you,” Reo said slowly, “it’s not weird. It’s expected.”
“Correct.” Hiro turned to me. “However. . .can you work with them hovering?”
I glanced at the twins again. Their eyes were locked on me—curious, lethal, and sharp with loyalty that orbited Hiro like gravity. Honestly, they appeared like, even if I did say I didn’t want them around, they would be coming anyway.
The twins must be the closest to him. Closer than the other Claws, maybe even closer than Kenji.
A flicker of curiosity pricked my chest.
What did they survive together? How did the twins become Hiro’s shadow?
“I can work with them,” I shrugged. “As long as they listen.”
The twins tilted their heads in perfect sync.
“We listen,” the first promised.
“When it matters,” the second added.
Not exactly comforting, but I’d take it.
Reo addressed the other Claws, “The rest of you will stay in the West Wing—but not on the same floor as the Personal Scales’ rooms. I want you visible enough that nothing strange happens in the hallways, but not so clustered that it feels like a raid.”
Kaede inclined that glass eye toward Reo. “We’ll treat it like a regular patrol. Cards. Drinks. Jokes. If anyone’s watching, they’ll see nothing different. Our junior guards will not know anything. They’ll get their regular orders.”
Aww. So the Claws and Fangs have their own men. They must be more like. . .the captains of squads.
Daisuke leaned back in his chair. “And if something is different, do we go in for the kill, Reo?”
“No. Report to me first. Don’t react unless the Dragon says so. Due to our not knowing how many spies are out there. . .we must play this close.”
Kenji nodded. “This is the smartest play, if my Personal Scales are innocent, nothing happens except a movie and too much popcorn. If they’re guilty. . .well. . .the theater has excellent soundproofing."
A chill ran down my spine.
Kenji added blandly, "No one else in the house will hear their screams.”
Terror shot through me.
Holy shit.
Reo checked his watch and sat down. “All right. We have tonight mapped out. The Personal Scales get their fantasy. The Tiger gets her hunt. The Claws and Fangs become wallpaper. That buys us our first round of answers.”
His tone sharpened. “But I don’t want anyone in this room thinking the Personal Scales are the only possibility. They’re not.”
I nodded once. I’d been thinking the same thing. Whoever sent those messages had access, yes. But access came in a lot of shapes—maids, lower-level guards, tech support in the server room. Hell, even a terrified accountant could become a spy if one squeezed the right nerve.
“Whether one of the Personal Scales is part of this or not,” Reo said, “someone else is. Maybe several deadly someones. Which means tonight is just phase one.”
Hiro leaned forward forearms on the table. “And phase two?”
Reo’s eyes went shadow-dark. “Tomorrow, the Tiger hunts again. But this time, we don’t just watch patterns. We set a trap.”
A low sound rumbled on my right, full of threat.
Kenji.
He tilted his chin and scowled at Reo. “Trap? We said nothing about a trap, Roar.”
“Kenji, the hunt won’t just be enough—”
“Every trap needs bait,” Kenji’s voice like velvet dragged over a blade. “Who the fuck do you think the bait is going to be for this trap tomorrow?”
Reo didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
His gaze just slid toward me.
Oh.
One by one, every other pair of eyes around the table followed. The Fangs. The Claws. Hiro. The twins. All of them turned until their focus converged to where I sat.
In the center of the table. Between the Dragon and Hiro. Surrounded by killers who would burn the world for me.
My pulse kicked hard.
I'm the bait.
The thought should have terrified me. Days ago, it would have. But now, sitting here with Kenji's hand on my thigh and Hiro's heat radiating from my left, I felt something else entirely.
Clarity.
If we needed bait to draw out a snake, then fine. I'd be the fucking bait. But I wouldn't be helpless prey waiting to get caught.
“Bait? Okay.” I met Reo's eyes. "Tell me what you need me to do."