Page 5 of The Dragon 1 (Tokyo Empire #1)

Chapter three

When the Dragon Saw Her

Nyomi

All the suited men that had lined the walls marched out and didn’t even glance my way.

Mr. Sato didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t lift a finger. But the way the room responded to his silence told me everything I needed to know—power didn’t shout.

It watched.

Zo, being the brave man he was, fast-walked out of there as if his life depended on it.

“Mr. Sato, should I shut the door?” Jun placed his hand on the knob and waited for a response.

Ignoring him, Mr. Sato continued to sear me with his gaze.

My skin heated.

My heart beat so fast I thought it would detonate.

Granted, I knew he wouldn’t kill me. I believed he wouldn’t rape or hurt me. There were too many witnesses.

And I had my rights as an American.

Right? He can't just kill me?

But I had no idea why Mr. Sato wanted us to be alone and once he said I couldn’t do the study at his place, I was ready to go. Hot or not, I didn’t like him so close. Especially, when he assumed he could command me like his men or touch me like a lover.

Then the door slammed shut and with it left my quick escape.

For a second, Mr. Sato didn’t speak. He just watched me like I was both the question and the answer.

I gathered up my confidence. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Sato?”

“Call me Kenji.”

“Then, call me Nyomi.”

“I like that name.”

“I’m glad you do but is there something wrong?”

“Yes, there is something wrong.”

“What?”

His gaze swept over me. “Have you ever heard of the story, When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon ?”

“No.”

“It’s an old tale. Rare. Only a few copies exist now and most have been locked away or lost to time.”

Against my will, my curiosity piqued. “Okay.”

“In it, a very powerful man had a plan to conquer the world and he wasn’t just any regular man. He could transform into a dragon.”

“So, a dragon shifter?”

Kenji nodded. “His every step to conquer the world had been greatly calculated. Every ally chosen. In fact, in his mind, all of his enemies were already buried.”

His voice lowered. “Then, he saw her. . .”

I quirked my brows. “Her?”

“A woman that changed it all. The beast inside him stirred. And he lost direction.”

My mouth parted.

“He’d never been distracted before. Never questioned his next step but when she came, he suddenly didn’t know whether to kneel or run.”

For some reason, those last three words echoed in my head.

Kneel or run.

We stood there in silence and the tale he’d spoken wrapped itself around my mind like silk dipped in smoke.

And then suddenly, I saw it.

Not him.

Not me.

Not us.

But the story, unfolding in my mind.

A massive dragon, perched on a cliff of black stone, coiled in shadow—his body glittering with ember-lined scales, large wings tucked tight behind him.

Below him, she walked, completely unaware—a woman with skin like onyx. Her afro crown caught the light of the full moon.

She wasn’t even trying to be seen.

But the dragon saw her anyway. Saw the curve of her spine, the way her bare shoulders kissed the wind. Saw the calm in her gaze, the sharpness in her mouth.

And the hunger inside him—the one forged for war and dominance—sputtered.

Faltered.

It didn’t feel like a hunt.

It felt like a prayer.

I couldn’t tell if the dragon wanted to possess her or protect her. To fly toward her or fall to his knees.

All I knew was. . .he didn’t burn her.

He burned for her.

A lusty shiver ran through me.

But why did he tell me that? And am I over analyzing this?

My pulse still hadn’t settled.

Kenji hadn’t moved since his last word, hadn’t broken eye contact, hadn’t even blinked. It was like he was waiting to see if the story landed the way he meant it to.

It did.

And I hated it did.

Because somewhere deep in my gut—somewhere far below all my rational thoughts and feminist independence and journalistic boundaries—I understood what he was saying and what he wasn’t saying too.

This wasn’t just a tale.

This was an illogical confession .

Dressed in metaphor and draped in legend.

This man is smooth. Let me get out of here before I end up doing something crazy with him.

I swallowed and shifted slightly, needing space but not quite ready to step away.

“So. . .in that story,” I began carefully. “The woman… Did she want the dragon? Or was she afraid of him?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. Actually, it does.”

He tilted his head. “It doesn’t. The dragon was going to get her regardless.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to seem casual. “I’m just trying to understand the meaning behind your story. The deeper theme. It’s clearly not just about power or fate. It’s about disruption. About vulnerability. About. . .the cost of obsession.”

“You’re sharp. I like that.”

“I’m not trying to impress you,” I said, maybe too defensively. “I’m just saying—it sounds like the dragon lost everything. Or almost did. That doesn’t feel like a love story. That feels like a warning.”

He didn’t smile but his eyes sparked like struck flint. “A warning? Perhaps it is.”

“Are you warning me ?”

“I’m not sure, just yet.”

I blinked.

That response had been unexpected. Upon meeting him, he damn sure appeared to know all the answers.

I stepped back, just an inch.

He didn’t follow.

But he watched.

“Thank you for the story but unless it ends with me getting access to Japan for my research, I should probably go.”

His gaze softened for a breath, then sharpened again.

The storyteller vanished.

The predator returned. “Your study? We’re done with that part of the conversation.”

“I don’t believe so. Before you cleared the room, you mentioned compromises which means that you planned to give me alternate options to do my study.”

“Perhaps, we have different definitions.”

I leaned my head to the side. “What do you think compromise means?”

“You’re stunning.”

I blushed but shook the girly giddiness away. “Kenji, I really need to do this study. If not here, then somewhere else in Japan. Your banning the whole country from me, really messes that up, so I would love some form of a compromise.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or husband?” He glanced at my bare ring finger and closed the distance between us.

“No and why can’t I observe other soaplands?”

“I’ve already told you why. You’re captivating, unique, and sexy.” He tucked a few curls behind my ear and let his fingers linger on my face before moving his hand away. “I thought you would be ugly.”

“Why would I be ugly?”

“Jun looked your name up. He told me you published your first non-fiction book at sixteen.”

“Good research but that still doesn't answer my question.”

“Was the book good?”

“It was an international bestseller.”

“What was it about?”

“My father.”

“Interesting,” he smiled. “I bet your father is proud of you and the book.”

“Actually, my father despises me for putting the book out but that doesn't really matter right now since he's behind bars.” I stepped back.

“Yet, you still can't seem to replace the recorder that he bought for you?”

“Yes because it has sentimental value.”

“You’re complicated.”

“I’m a writer that wants to do a story on your place.”

“You put four more books out in your twenties but now in your thirties. No more books,” he frowned. “Why not?”

Unease plopped down in my stomach. “I've had a hard time finding a topic that interested me.”

“And then you considered soaplands?”

“Well, soaplands as well as all of Tokyo's underground sex industry. In fact, this soapland was going to help me paint the whole story.”

“And now it will not.”

I raised one finger. “Can I remind you that Jun already gave me permission?”

“Jun has no authority here. Compared to me, he's as powerful as a janitor. From your publishing history, I thought you'd be unattractive.”

“Excuse me?” I held my hands out to the side. “Why in the hell would putting books out make me unattractive?”

“Female success at such a young age suggests that the woman is more focused on other things instead of looks.

She's not ugly, just not radiating sex. That's the woman that can walk through here and simply observe.

You're not that woman.” He dragged his gaze over my body. “You're something else, entirely.”

“I can stop. . .radiating sex,” I touched my chest. “I mean, really. I've spent my whole life being unsexy.”

“I'm still saying no, Tora.”

My freaking name isn’t Tora.

I counted to ten and said, “and you’re putting the entire country off limits?”

“Not everyone is going to be as nice as me. They’ll see you as a commodity. You may end up in an awkward position or even one hazardous to your health. I have enough responsibilities. I'm not adding keeping an American woman safe, to my list.”

I scowled. “I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?”

“Yes.”

“You walked in here like an eclipse. Do you know what that does to men who live in shadows?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that.”

“You’re no longer allowed to walk around Kabukichō district without me.”

I caught that little add on. . . without him .

“And as I said, doing your study in Japan is off limits too.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Respectfully. . .you don’t command the whole country.”

“Don’t I? Maybe next time you should figure out who you’re talking to before meeting with them,” he guided his gaze down my body again. “However, I’m glad I saw you first.”

Hunger glazed over his eyes. I felt naked and stepped away until my back pressed against the door.

Yet again, he closed the distance.

Any other time, I might’ve been repulsed, slapped his face or even screamed out curses to urge him to get away.

Instead, my insides clenched with need. He reeked of power and menace and I loved that he wanted me.

Get a hold of your stupid hormones.

I formed my hands into fists. My Japanese culture books said nothing about what to do when a sexy asshole didn’t respect my space.

“Tell me something, Nyomi. This Zo, why aren't you with him?”

“That's none of your business and is there a reason you’re so close?”

“Does it matter?”