Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
All their throats had been slit so cleanly I could see the gleam of tendon and bone. That meant the cuts weren’t rushed. They were surgical, almost elegant. A killer’s signature, left with pride.
One of the men had his hands frozen mid-defense—fingers curled over his chest, mouth still open as if he’d been screaming when he died.
Another stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes wide, blood drying on his lashes. His expression was stuck somewhere between confusion and terror.
These five guys never had a chance.
Rage curled cold in my gut. Whoever did this hadn’t just killed, they’d sent a message.
I returned to the importance of the murderers’ staging.
In our world, a circle meant loyalty. Unity. Blood that never spilled outward.
Circles were the spine of our rituals.
The first sake cup passed from oyabun (the boss) to kobun (the underling), the rim was smooth and round. It was a vow poured in silence, sealed by the rim’s perfect roundness. No corners. No end. Just a bond meant to loop back forever.
When a man failed us, he offered his cut-off finger in a dish shaped like the first round cup. A circle for loyalty and a finger for penance.
Our backs carried circles too. Dragons coiled in ink. Heads bowed. Tails tucked. Koi twisting upstream in an endless current.
The inked family crest, circular like a seal, pressed onto documents we never spoke of.
The ceremonial table where we sat knee-to-knee, shoulder-to-shoulder, always in a ring. No corners. No breaks.
Even the oath—the word itself starts with a circle. That soft, round "O" that opened the mouth, like it opened this violent life.
A blade was straight.
Death was final.
But loyalty?
Loyalty was round.
My father had taught us this.
Therefore, this wasn’t simply murder.
It was a message.
He was saying: The circle is broken. That Hiro and I were no longer part of the family he’d built.
Behind them—six of my own personal security that I’d ordered to escort them.
They were slaughtered.
I’d chosen and trained them. They’d sworn they would die for me, but it was never supposed to be like this. They didn’t die in battle. They were executed and then laid out like cattle.
This time it was no circle. My guards had died in extensive battle.
One had been gutted from groin to throat, his intestines spilled across the bamboo floor in a steaming coil, thick as rope and glistening like wet glass.
Another sat slumped against the greenhouse wall, the left side of his face missing. Completely torn and removed for no fucking reason, but a depraved man’s pleasure.
The third man had been flung against a wooden pillar. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. His mouth was open and each of his fingers were bent in a different direction.
The fourth and fifth were both face-down in the small koi pond near the bamboo. Two orange fish darted around them in nervous loops, but didn’t touch. Blood trailed in a lazy spiral from their mouths, rippling in the water. One’s back was riddled with punctures.
The final man was still kneeling in front of it all with his head completely gone, taken clean off the shoulders. The jagged stump steamed in the cool night air.
His hands were folded in his lap. Blood pooled between his thighs.
A gold coin had been placed in front of him.
I checked it.
The Fox’s crest.
My father’s fucking signature.
My stomach twisted.
The Fox didn’t just send spies. He sent butchers. Killers who didn’t just want to finish a mission—they wanted to defile the very idea of safety. They wanted me to know that no matter how many soldiers I trained or how many strategies I crafted, I would never be untouchable.
That I could never protect the people I loved.
And the worst part?
He’d used my own hands to do it.
I was the one who’d approved every name on that list. I’d walked Nyomi into this trap thinking she’d be surrounded by my best.
Turns out, I’d wrapped her in wolves.
I was going to burn this whole island before I let that happen again.
Hiro stepped up to the coin. His chest rose with a slow, measured inhale. “I recognize your personal guys. So that means the men in the circle are five of the Tiger’s guards?”
Rage surged through me, I spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes.”
“How many men did you assign to protect her?”
“Ten.”
He met my eyes. “Then five psychotic traitors are still breathing and are trying to get off this island—”
“Or they’re hoping to somehow let our father know where we are at—”
“Regardless they probably plan to kill more people on the island in the process—”
“We’ll fucking kill them first.”
“Exactly.”
If they got away—Nyomi would be next. I’d seen what they did to my guards. I wasn’t letting them get close to her. I put my view on the bamboo forest six feet away. “There’s no way out besides this door that we are in front of.”