Page 69 of The Dragon 1

Because somewhere in the ashes of Hareef stood a woman who had taken his fire, silenced his rage, and stared down death like it owed her something.

And gods help him. . .

He didn’t think he would survive another day if he didn’t at least know her name.

Chapter eleven

Burn or Behold

Nyomi

The next evening, Zo stood at the window, peering through the blinds like we were under surveillance.

He’d already dressed me to perfection.

A white strapless dress formed around my body and ended just above my knees. A black waist corset, intricately detailed with tiny beads carved with Japanese characters, hugged my center. Zo loved draping me in white; he insisted the color complemented my deep brown skin perfectly.

Granted, white was his favorite shade, so he'd find any reason to use it.

“Nyomi,” he called, not turning around. “I think. . .your ride just pulled up.”

I paused, halfway through fastening my long pearl earring.

My fingers trembled slightly. “He’s here already?”

“It’s exactly eight o’clock.”

“Damn it. I thought I had more time to panic.”

“Well, you don’t.” Zo pulled the curtain further apart. “Wow.”

I quickly finished the earring. “Wow. What?”

“It’s a Toyota Century Royal.”

I blinked. “What is?”

“The car waiting in front for you.”

“And that’s cool?”

“It’s literally the official car of Japanese royalty,” Zo whistled. “Custom-built exclusively for the Imperial Family. Bulletproof windows, bomb-resistant armor, the whole deal. The interior has leather seats, wool carpets, even hand-made Japanese washi paper detailing. It’s longer than a limousine, about twenty feet.”

“That’s a lot of detail.”

“I’m obsessed with them.”

“Then, get one.”

“Practically nobody outside the Imperial Household can get one.”

I looked myself over one more time in the mirror and was satisfied. “How much does something like that cost?”

“Approximately 52 million yen.”

I tensed. “Which is what in US dollars?”

“500k.”