Page 125 of The Dragon 2

Did Reo not know exactly what kind of chaos he was enabling?

Regardless, I was impressed. Shocked, even. Reo didn’t bend easily. And never had he shown this kind of quiet respect for anyone I dated.

Until now.

My chauffeur moved us along.

I sat in the back with my fingers drumming along my thigh. The gift I’d gotten her in Paris rested beside me and was wrapped in thick black paper. A pink bow topped it.

I looked at the window and stared at my reflection. Charcoal Tom Ford suit. Open collar. No tie. Hair styled. Rings gleaming. The edge of a tattoo peeking just barely along my neck.

The steel-eyed gaze of a predator smiled back at me.

Tora, are you ready?

My body thrummed with the kind of hunger that bordered on dangerous. It wasn’t just arousal—it was a taut, animal ache that lived deep in my bones.

My cock had been half-hard for hours, pulsing with every thought of her—every imagined sound she might make when I showed up, when I stripped her of that smug, secretive power she’d been holding over me for the past days.

My jaw tightened.

My fingers flexed against the gift box like I was gripping her waist instead.

Every nerve buzzed every breath I took burned with hunger.

I didn’t just want to see her. I wanted todevourher—slowly until the taste of her rewired my insides.

Finally, I will know what your plans are this evening.

I took note of where we were going, trying to figure out the location with each turn.

Tokyo changed in layers.

First came the gleam—Ginza's reflective, opulent hush. Where the streets whispered in luxury, and the buildings held old money. The lights here were tasteful and curated.

Aww. It’s here.

But we continued, and the shine began to smear.

Okay. . .it is somewhere else. . .

Glass towers gave way to chaos. The roads narrowed. Crowds thickened. Signs began to scream instead of speak.

Where the fuck are we going now?

Neon turned vulgar—hot pinks, bruised purples, acid greens—and the quiet elegance of earlier blocks mutated into the wild, erotic pulse of Shinjuku.

Oh.

My lids lowered, and I smirked.

Shinjuku? Really, Tora? Where could we be going here?

This was a direction I had not anticipated us taking tonight.

My Tiger wasn’t just planning a surprise—she was leading me into one of the only parts of Tokyo where the walls themselves had stories they didn’t dare repeat in daylight.

Well. . .I’m already more surprised than I thought I would be, Tora.