Page 138 of The Dragon 1

My father had a reputation. The Fox had never pulled a gun without firing it. Even in courtship. Even during negotiations. Even during my fucking childhood.

If the Fox drew his weapon, someone would always, eventually bleed.

I saw it land in Hiro’s mind the second the gun cleared the blanket.

And Hiro lost it. He roared—pure fury, raw and guttural. It ripped through the room like a grenade with no shrapnel, just pain.

Then I heard it; the sharp crack of metal breaking. Hiro’s right wrist somehow snapped through the cuff.

Hiro ripped free, launched upward and with one blood-soaked fist, slammed the nearest guard against the wall so hard the man crumpled like wet paper.

“STOP!” I screamed again, not wanting my brother to die.

A guard surged toward Hiro and tased him in the ribs. Another two grabbed his shoulders. The seventh man recovered just enough to bring his knee into Hiro’s stomach before pinning him down again.

It took five of them to barely get him restrained again. Even then, his body bucked and twisted, his teeth bared, his voice hoarse from screaming. Blood dripped down his face like a mask and still he thrashed.

I moved in.

Not too close—but just enough.

Just enough to show him he wasn’t alone.

“Hiro,” I whispered this time. “Look at me.”

His eyes found mine—wild, broken, shining with tears and rage.

“I’m going to fix this.” I said, trembling inside but holding steady outside. “Let me fix it.”

He didn’t nod.

He didn’t blink.

But he stopped fighting.

Barely.

I turned back toward our father—and that goddamn gun still resting in his lap like a crown jewel.

Reo was at my side now. His shoulders stiff, his breath too shallow, and for the first time since I was a child. . .Reo looked terrified. That made something inside me shift. If Reo was afraid. . .we were deeper in the pit than I thought.

Then the Fox spoke again.

Like none of it had just happened.

Like Hiro wasn’t bleeding.

Like Nura wasn’t still trembling naked, at the end of a chain.

Like the threat of death wasn’t coating the air like formaldehyde.

“Did you know…” my father said slowly. “That the Lion paid me a visit this morning before he left Japan?”

I put my view on him. “And?”

“The Lion brought no gift or any form of respect. He simply walked into my room, unannounced with all of his men, and he did not sit down.”

I swallowed.