Chapter 32 Scars
Chapter thirty-two
Scars
Nyomi
The elevator chimed and opened with a soft hiss.
We stepped inside, the four of us filling the space. Hiro took the spot near the buttons.
The twins bracketed the door.
I ended up in the back.
The doors closed, cutting us off from the rest of the mansion.
For a moment, only the faint hum of the elevator filled the air.
Then Hiro glanced at me. “Did you enjoy your private time with my brother today?”
Heat crawled up my neck. “It was. . .amazing. Very romantic.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I heard you both took the helicopter.”
Of course he did. I was beginning to understand that nothing on this island stayed quiet for long. Everybody gossiped.
“Yeah,” I tried not to think about the way Kenji had me soaking wet on the beach from just his very skilled fingers. “He, um. . .took me to his island a little bit away from here.”
Hiro angled his body slightly toward me. “He took you to the private island?”
“Yes.” I frowned. “Is that. . .weird?”
His brows drew together, something like disbelief—and maybe a little awe—crossing his features. “I have not even seen it yet. He’s so protective of the place.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“He has been obsessed with designing it. Talking about it. Adjusting plans. For the last year, it is all I hear in meetings. But he never invites anyone. Just says, ‘you’ll see it, when it is perfect.’”
A small, stunned breath slipped out of me, while warmth bloomed in my chest. I’d already known I was important to him—he’d basically declared war over me. But somehow, this quiet confirmation, dropped in an elevator between floors, hit differently.
Hiro watched my face for a second, reading me the way his brother did, but without the same sharp hunger.
This was gentler.
Protective.
Evaluating.
“I’m. . .honored.” My voice grew softer. “It’s a breathtakingly beautiful island.”
“Good,” Hiro said simply. “He should be taking you to beautiful places. You deserve that and more with the warmth you’ve brought to us.”
What?
The twins nodded in agreement.
My throat tightened.
“Uh. . .anyway.” I looked at his reflection. “You appear well-rested. I’m glad you got some sleep.”
Hiro’s eyes warmed. “Because of you, I slept.”
The twins stayed very still.
He moved his gaze to the front of him. “Your presence while we cooked. The breakfast. The hug. It made it harder to stay in. . .dark places.”
I swallowed.
He let out a long breath. “Because of that. . .I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you my appreciation.”
“Then I guess I’m obligated to keep making you breakfast while we’re here.”
“You are,” His voice went lighter. “That’s our deal.”
A chuckle slipped out of me, shaky but real. “Fine. I’ll keep feeding you until you’re emotionally stable. Might take a few years.”
“It may.”
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open into a different world.
For whatever reason, the twins changed position on my side. This time, Yuki was a step ahead, and Aki was slightly behind.
I looked forward.
Okay. Back to the hunt.
My senses dialed up to uncomfortable levels—scents sharper, footsteps louder, shadows darker. It was the kind of primal alertness that made the hairs on my arms stand straight, as if something were watching from just out of sight.
A nest of snakes.
The first thing I noted on this level was that the air felt lighter and touched with the faint scent of floral soap. The corridor beyond was wide and bright, lined with clean white walls and pale wood doors. Warm light pooled from overhead fixtures.
A few staff moved through the space, carrying baskets, clipboards, and cleaning carts.
Sako definitely hadn’t shown me this part.
As we stepped out, a woman in a simple blouse and slacks walked past with a tray of tea cups. When she saw us, she smiled and briefly bowed.
Then, she continued down the hall, humming under her breath.
Totally relaxed.
Totally unconcerned.
Totally enjoying her day.
Not spy energy at all.
We walked on.
Doors opened occasionally to reveal glimpses of small lounge spaces, staff bedrooms, and storage.
Laughter drifted from one of them, and the sound was soft and tired, like people letting themselves breathe after a long shift.
I glanced at Hiro. “This wing wasn’t in Sako’s tour.”
“It’s mostly a Scales-level so there would have been no need. Staff housing. Support people. Some lower-level guards. Kitchen workers who stay in the house overnight.”
“That makes sense.”
We passed a woman adjusting a framed print on the wall.
Across from her, an armed guard leaned against a doorframe and went over a list on a clipboard.
He lifted his view.
The twins gave him a look and his back straightened instantly.
He bowed at them and then us.
Hiro kept his voice low. “Some of my Claws’ top men are on this floor.”
“Ah. I see.”
Hiro slowed his pace just a little, giving me a glance from the corner of his eye—more calculating than casual. “Hmm. I suppose I should break down the chain of command for you. It will help you tonight.”
My brow lifted. “Okay.”
“In this house, loyalty isn’t always spoken. You watch it. You read it. You measure who bows, who hesitates, who looks away first. If you know the hierarchy, you’ll know when something feels. . .off.”
The twins nodded in agreement.
“I like the idea of you giving me a crash course.”
“Good. Any questions?”
Aki added under his breath, “You’re an ally now.”
“How many men does each Claw have?”
“Thirty to sixty depending on the Claw.”
“What?”
He shrugged.
The number hit me like a body blow. That wasn’t a crew. That wasn’t a squad. That was a private army—disciplined, loyal, and deadly enough to take over small countries if Kenji ever woke up and chose chaos.
“So. . .the Claws are very much top Lieutenants?”
“Yes.”
“And the Fangs? How many men do they have under them?”
“That more so depends on the mission. They don’t run and manage people like the Claws. They more so gather. . .up to a hundred or so men each, when they need something big done. They even grab people from other organizations.”
“How?”
“When the Fangs move, Kenji signs off on every name. Each man is paid triple hazard rates. They’ll fly in from Osaka, Seoul, or even Shanghai if needed.”
My pulse kicked up. Mobilizing that many people wasn’t just about having a lot of money. It was an unbelievable amount of power.
Not a massive criminal organization but an endless kingdom.
“Damn. I didn’t think that their jobs were that huge.”
We continued on, and the whole time I assessed all the people that walked by.
Everyone looked good. Their clothes were clean and well-fitted. Their skin glowed. Their posture was relaxed but engaged—the body language of people who liked their jobs and felt secure in them.
A young woman passed us carrying a stack of books, earbuds in, completely unbothered by our presence. She stopped, bowed at us, and walked on with a smile.
I glanced at Hiro. "They seem really comfortable here."
"They should be." Hiro's tone was matter-of-fact.
"Kenji pays triple the market rate for all staff positions. Full medical and dental. If they have dependents—husbands, children, even retired parents—housing is free if they want it, or he subsidizes off-site apartments. Paid leave is generous. Also, there’s education benefits for their children. "
I blinked. "Education benefits?"
"Full scholarships to any university in Japan. Some staff send their kids to schools in Europe or America. Reo makes sure the kids get into whatever place they want. Kenji covers it."
Shock hit me. “Seriously?”
The twins nodded like this was normal.
Hiro continued, "And Scales in his household get more.
Much more. Private health insurance that covers their entire family.
Retirement plans that vest after five years.
Performance bonuses that can double their salary.
Paid vacations—not just days off, actual trips.
Last year, one of the Scales took her parents to Greece for two weeks. Kenji paid for everything."
I stopped walking.
Hiro stopped too and turned to face me.
"Wait. You're telling me that being a Scale in Kenji’s household is a dream job?"
"For most people? Yes." Hiro's expression didn't change. "It is competitive. Difficult to get. People stay for decades because there is no better employer in this world. Kenji’s mother taught him that loyalty is earned, not demanded. Therefore, he treats his people well, and they return that care."
I looked around the hallway again, seeing it differently now.
The woman adjusting the framed print—she was humming.
The guard with the clipboard—his uniform was tailored, his shoes polished to a mirror shine.
The housekeeper who'd passed us earlier—her hands had been manicured.
These people weren't just employed.
They were cherished.
A fresh hiss slithered through my imagination, curling around my ears like warning.
My stomach tightened.
"So. . .if the Scales are living like this. . ." I said slowly, working it out in my head. "If they have everything they could possibly want, financial security, healthcare, education for their kids, respect. . ."
Hiro watched me, waiting.
"And one or more are spies. . .then, they wouldn’t be working with the Fox because they're angry or disgruntled." My voice dropped. "They most likely wouldn’t want to hurt Kenji."
The twins shifted behind me, silent but present.
I thought about the pictures the spy had taken. If it had been any of the Scales from the household, then they wouldn’t see it as betrayal but maybe. . .survival or maintaining. . .life stability.
Fuck. We have been thinking about this all wrong.
Something unseen dragged across the inside of my mind—slow, heavy, like scales scraping stone. A hush settled over my thoughts, an oppressive pressure I couldn’t shake.
The mansion no longer felt like polished marble and sandalwood.
It felt alive.
Listening.
Waiting.