The Dragon 4 – Tokyo Empire Read Online Kenya Wright

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And here, three women burned themselves trying to be chosen by one man who couldn't even see them clearly enough to notice they were performing.

I looked at him. "Do you like the book?"

Something shifted in Hiro's expression—not quite a smile, but close. "I like the parts with the twin dragons and their. . .entanglements with Sol."

Heat crept up my neck at the way he said that word.

He moved closer to the final painting—the one with Sol between both twins, their bodies curved around hers in obvious intimacy. "When we were children, Kenji snuck this book out of our father's library. It obviously wasn't meant for children. In fact, the edition Kenji stole should have been locked away."

"Why?"

"It had illustrations." Hiro's mouth curved. "Very explicit ones. As a kid reading that story and seeing the images, it felt deliciously naughty to me. Forbidden. Those images were. . ."

Lust crossed his face. "They were the first time I'd ever seen such things. The first time I understood what. . .sex could look like."

My pulse kicked up.

"Kenji and I would read it together, hidden in his room. Poring over those illustrations. And we decided—right there, as boys—that we'd be like the twin dragons. That we'd share everything. Including women."

I snapped a photo of the painting, buying myself time to process that. "Intriguing."

"Is it?"

"That you two made that decision so young." I moved to photograph another angle of the room. "Based on a fantasy novel."

"No. Based on what felt right, the story just gave us language for it."

I took another photo—the dragon in flight, the woman with ice powers. "And now you no longer will share.”

“Wrong again.”

“I’m not wrong.”

Hiro chuckled—low and dark. "We'll still share you. . .Tora."

My head snapped toward him. "What?"

He shrugged, utterly casual about the bomb he'd just dropped. "We will just share you differently from how we have shared before. Probably not sexual, but like with sharing your food and time."

Probably not sexual. I caught that, Hiro.

I stared at him. "Kenji sharing my food and time with you? That’s what you see?"

"We’ll figure it out."

"And has Kenji gotten that memo about you two sharing my food and time?"

"He will." The certainty in his voice—the absolute confidence—made something flip in my stomach.

I laughed, slightly unhinged, and turned back to my phone. "Right. Okay. Sure."

"You don't believe me."

"I believe you think that's what's going to happen." I snapped another photo, focusing on the bookmarks, the figurines, anything but his face. "But Kenji doesn't strike me as the sharing type. Not anymore. Not with me."

"You'd be surprised what my brother will do when properly motivated."

"Uh-huh."

"You think I'm joking."

"I think you're testing me. Seeing how I will react to what you’re saying.”

“I am.”

Those two words held heat, more heat than I wanted to consider. So I kept my expression neutral and forced myself to focus. Hiro's ideas about dynamics and sharing could wait. Right now, I needed to figure out which of these three women had weaponized their access to Kenji's world.

I checked the time and sighed. "Alright, let’s go to the rooms.”

“Good idea.”

I moved past him, very aware of how close he stood, how his scent—different from Kenji's but equally dangerous—wrapped around me.

And I absolutely did not think about that painting. The one with Sol between two identical men. Both of them looking at her like she was the only thing worth worshipping.

Nope. Not thinking about it at all.

I adjusted my grip on my phone and headed for Yuki's door, determined to focus on literally anything else.

Behind me, Hiro followed, still radiating that smug amusement.

Chapter thirty-six

Goldilocks and the Three Possible Spies

Nyomi

We entered the hallway and I checked out the three doors in a neat row, each with its own small nameplate in elegant script.

Yuki.

Mami.

Hina.

Time to snoop.

The hallway smelled faintly of jasmine.

The floorboards under my steps creaked in shallow sighs, each one too loud for my liking.

A prickling sensation crawled across the back of my neck. The kind one gets when they know they’re being watched—even if logic insists the area is empty.

I scanned the hallway and looked up.

The lights hummed low overhead, projecting elongated shadows that stretched toward the doors like reaching fingers.

Hiro stepped beside me. “Are you alright?”

“I feel like I’m being watched.”

“You may be.” Hiro pointed to the corners. “There are cameras here and here.”

A faint draft brushed against my ankles—too cool, too directional to be natural. Like air displaced by someone who had just moved.

My breath hitched.

The hallway felt inhabited in a way that made my skin tighten, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath with me.

I stiffened. “Can you do a favor for me?”

“Of course.”

“Ask Reo if the hallway footage was erased too—the same way the mansion footage was when the person took a picture of me.”

Hiro shifted, already pulling out his phone. He typed fast.

The phone buzzed a second later.


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