Page 17 of The Dragon 1 (Tokyo Empire #1)

Chapter twelve

To Be Kept

Nyomi

We continued.

Lights blurred.

Streets thinned.

The air grew still.

Tokyo’s chaotic pulse softened into a whisper as we climbed higher into the hills. Somewhere behind us, the neon fever of Shinjuku and Shibuya kept dancing.

But up here?

Time held its breath.

Only the hush of tires on ancient stone roads remained.

We’re almost there.

My champagne flute was nearly empty.

I set it back onto its cradle with trembling fingers, still half-buzzed from the massage seat, the music, the scent of sandalwood and power saturating the air. My skin tingled and my body hummed with anticipation.

What sort of date will this be?

We continued to go up the hill.

Through the tinted window, I watched the world transform. Cherry trees lined the road, their soft pink petals caught in the subtle gold of hidden lights.

It looked like we were driving through a dream.

I pressed my fingers against the door again, needing the coolness to steady myself.

My heart wouldn’t slow down.

After several minutes, we came to a stop at the top of the hill and in front of a vast path leading to a massive courtyard.

The chauffeur moved first, slipping from the vehicle with that same grace I’d seen before.

The door opened.

“Ms. Palmer,” he bowed. “You’ve arrived.”

“Thank you.” I stepped out.

The scent of cedar and rain-kissed stone lingered in the air.

Moonlight bathed everything. The courtyard stretched before me, resembling a private kingdom—wide stone paths, raked gravel patterns, and lush moss curling around rock gardens.

The only sound was the distant trickle of water from a bamboo fountain, its rhythmic trickle breaking the silence with a pulse-like beat. It echoed against my chest, grounding me in a space where time seemed to stretch wide and tender.

Suddenly, two men emerged from the shadows at the courtyard’s edge.

I froze.

Who are they?

They walked toward me.

One was heartbreakingly beautiful, tall and lean. Long pink hair framed his face. Something about his eyes felt wicked yet I couldn’t explain why.

He stopped in front of me. “Good evening, Ms. Palmer. My name is Kaoru.”

I blinked. “Nice to meet you.”

The other man got to me next. He was broader and bald headed. His jacket was open just enough to show a silver wolf tooth charm resting against his chest.

He didn’t speak.

I raised my eyebrows. “And. . .what is your name?”

The bald-headed guy didn’t respond.

Kaoru pointed at him. “This is Yoichi.”

“Nice to mee you, Yoichi.”

He remained silent.

O-kay. . .

Kaoru tucked some of his pink hair behind his ear. “We were told you brought gifts.”

“Oh yes,” I began to go back to the car.

Yoichi stopped me. “No.”

I backed up.

He went into the car and took them out.

Seconds later, both gifts were cradled in his arms. Kaoru stepped closer and let his fingers graze the edge of each gift. “Hmmm.”

What is he doing?

Kaoru glanced at Yoichi. “No trigger mechanism.”

Huh?

Yoichi nodded. “The ribbon pattern is consistent. It looks like a normal ribbon.”

“Balance is clean too,” Kaoru added. “No hidden base. No double lining.”

“No acid burn on the seal.”

What the fuck?

Kaoru put his view on me. “Did you wrap these yourself?”

I widened my eyes. “Yes.”

He smiled. “Very pretty.”

“They still could be dangerous,” Yoichi didn’t even look up from the box. “Intent is not always visible.”

Kaoru waved his hand. “She’s brought no threat.”

I blinked. “You thought I was going to assassinate Kenji on a date?”

Silent, Yoichi walked off with the gifts.

Kaoru gave me a shrug. “Reo is a stickler for protocol.”

I had no idea who Reo was but he sounded pretty serious about security.

Kaoru headed off in an elegant stride and then gestured for me to come with him. “This way, Ms. Palmer.”

I strolled along.

Kaoru waited for me to catch up then fell into step beside me with the kind of smooth, effortless rhythm that made me think he practiced walking in mirrors just to make sure his stance was always seductive.

His long pink hair shimmered in the moonlight; a color so soft it should’ve felt sweet—except there was nothing sweet about the man beside me. Not when he’d just evaluated my gift to make sure it wasn’t an explosive.

I had no doubt that if it had been something dangerous. . .he would have killed me in seconds.

Kaoru glanced at me. “In regard to the gift search. . .as far as Reo is concerned, everyone gets the same assessment if they are going to be in the presence of the Dragon. Even gorgeous women in six-inch heels and a dress designed to seriously test a man’s professionalism.”

I smirked.

Ahead of us, Yoichi’s voice cut through the night air. “Watch it, Pinky.”

“Relax,” Kaoru raised both hands like he’d just been accused of a crime he was proud to commit. “I’m just appreciating her. Not touching.”

Yoichi glanced over his shoulder and scowled. “Don’t flirt with the dragon’s new flame.”

My breath caught.

“I would never,” Kaoru chuckled. “I love being able to breathe and walk.”

I tensed.

Kaoru watched me and must have noticed my suddenly being on the edge. “You can call me Pinky too, if you want.”

Yoichi muttered. “She can’t.”

I swallowed.

Kaoru ignored him. “And I’m sure you’re wondering why I went pink.”

Yoichi grumbled. “I bet she doesn’t care.”

Kaoru casually brushed his fingers through his hair. “I went pink because everyone in the Family tries to look invisible. Me? I like to be remembered.”

“Oh.” I checked out his face but didn’t see much of a resemblance. “So. . .you’re related to Kenji?”

To my surprise, both men chuckled.

Kaoru winked at me. “Related in blood, but not through blood.”

What the fuck? Oh. The Family is their. . .gang. Got it.

He gave me a warm smile. “You know, no woman has ever brought the Dragon a gift.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You mean. . .on a first date?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not on any date. You’re the first woman to bring a gift.”

Yoichi corrected. “Two gifts.”

“Well. . .” I swallowed. “I thought it would be respectful. I was told that in Japanese culture, gift-giving is a sign of sincerity. . .of. . .wanting to make a good impression.”

Kaoru nodded. “It is. In most cases.”

“But?”

He grinned. “You’re not in most cases.”

My nerves flared. “So. . .you think I shouldn’t have brought them?”

He shrugged. “It depends.”

“On what?”

Kaoru slowed his pace just enough that we lagged a few feet behind Yoichi. Then, he lowered his voice. “The more. . .intriguing you become to the Dragon, well. . .”

“What?”

“The more you open doors that you cannot close.”

I parted my lips.

What?

We continued walking in silence.

Doors you cannot close.

Kaoru had said it so casually but it stuck to my ribs just the same.

I’ll have to be more careful with Kenji.

The path curved suddenly and the moment I turned the corner, I stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Oh my. . .

A grove of cherry blossom trees stood tall and opened to this secret garden shimmering under the full moon. The trees’ branches arched and formed a floral canopy of pink and white.

Here, their sweet, fragrance filled the air.

Thousands more petals blanketed the ground in quiet layers.

Well. . .the Dragon really knows how to romance a woman. . .but I’m not even a little bit surprised.

At the very center stood a single table low, round, and carved from dark wood. On it were blue and white porcelain dishes. Twin chairs waited next to it like a scene frozen in a love story.

It wasn’t just the table that caught me by surprise.

A small stage sat just beyond the table. It was about a foot high and ten feet wide, made of smooth cedar.

Above it, a sleek black ceiling had been built, elegant and minimal. . .except for one startling detail.

A single iron hook hung from its center, suspended on a thin chain, swaying gently as if stirred by breath.

I blinked at it.

What the hell is that hook for?

Was it for lighting?

A floral arrangement?

Maybe part of some avant-garde performance?

My mind immediately spiraled.

An aerialist?

Or. . .something darker?

I swallowed and forced my gaze away, only for it to land on a man sitting in the corner of the stage.

He was dressed in soft, dark robes and held a long, unfamiliar instrument in his lap.

It looked carved from polished black wood and had strings that stretched across a curved body—like a harp had married a sword, and they’d birthed this quiet, beautiful thing.

He plucked a single note—low and shivering—and the air responded.

The sound was ancient.

Honeyed.

Expensive silk unraveling in the dark.

Each note followed the last with aching slowness.

So warm.

Curling around my skin.

I parted my lips, completely hypnotized.

This wasn’t just music.

It was velvet sliding along the inside of my wrists.

It was cool water trailing down my fevered spine.

I loved music but I never knew that notes could reach beneath my ribs to touch my heart in this way or even slip between my thighs and damn near make me wet.

I stood there, suspended between cherry blossoms and moonlight, listening to a man summon desire.

Yoichi placed my two gifts on the table.

Kaoru grabbed my attention and gestured that way. “Your seat, Ms. Palmer.”

“Thank you. . .Pinky.”

He smirked.

I headed over there. “And you can call me Nyomi.”

Yoichi muttered. “He can’t.”

Kaoru frowned at Yoichi’s words but didn’t argue. Instead, he offered me one last smirk, before the two of them retreated just a few paces off, beneath one of the larger cherry blossom trees.

Once they got there, they didn’t sit.

They didn’t speak.

They just stood guard, shifting to scary statues made of shadow, muscle, and loyalty.

Suddenly. . .I felt it.

An invisible line.

It wrapped around my ankles and whispered. “You belong to someone now.”

Because it had just become clear that Yoichi and Kaoru were not allowed to be too close to me.

Not anymore.

Not once I’d stepped into his orbit.

Kenji’s.

He’s here. . .

No one had to say it.

There were no signs.