Koyamo had jerked inside. Not wanting to believe.
But in the end, there was nothing else to explain it. To explain Nora.
It all made sense after that confession….
Nora’s uncharacteristic self-confidence and boldness. It wasn’t a natural trait but something that had come with knowing she only had a very few years of her adult life to live as she wanted.
Koyamo should have been grateful that her ex-girlfriend had chosen to spend two of those years with her. She told herself that after Nora left Switzerland—and her—behind.
She tried to see the bright side of things up until now. To not think about the fact that it’s August, the month in which Nora is supposed to get married.
But alone in her apartment, in the wake of that disastrous morning with Not Nora, a hollow feeling guts her from the inside.
It’s hard to see the bright side of getting dumped by a once-in-a-lifetime woman like Nora. Or the point of pursuing something with anyone else when her heart so irrevocably belongs to another.
The interphone next to the door suddenly erupts with a buzz. And that’s when Koyamo spots the bright green scarf on the couch. She removed it from around the singer’s neck last night when she decided to kiss her in the hopes that if she didn’t let her talk, it would be easier to pretend she was with someone she liked as much as Nora.
Koyamo thumps the back of her head into the door and groans. So, the singer was back for her scarf. And she’d probably want to have another go at inviting Koyamo somewhere she didn’t want to go. Someplace Nora would’ve dragged her to anyway if she dared to say no. But still…
Koyamo snatches up the flimsy neckwear, goes over to the interphone, and picks up the handset. “I’ve got your scarf right here. I’ll bring it down to you. No need to come up.”
She replaces the handset, not bothering to wait for the singer’s answer.
Her building is old, and the interphones were installed sometime in the early 80s and never updated. Whoever was on the outside call box could hear her, but any answer she received in return was usually drowned out by static.
She jogs down the stairs with the green scarf, just wanting to get this over with. However, she freezes when she pushes open the door and sees who is on the other side.
“Nora?” Koyamo chokes on her ex-girlfriend’s name, and it comes out a shocked whisper. Her chest squeezes, bitter and tight.
She was unceremoniously dumped by Japan’s most eligible bachelor after making a fool of herself. But seeing Nora again is ten times as painful. “What are you doing here?”
Tears shine in Nora’s eyes as if she’s suffering just as badly as Koyamo at the sight of her.
“My fiancé called the engagement off. I don’t have to get married. I’m free,” she answers. “I booked a flight to Geneva as soon as my father told me.”
At first, Koyamo’s heart sings at this news, rising in one triumphant sweep.
But then, it sinks with a new question. She isn’t as innocent as she was when she and Nora first started dating two years ago. This time she needs to protect herself. This time, it occurs to her to ask, “For how long?”
To Nora’s credit, she doesn’t lie.
“I don’t know,” she answers with an apologetic dip of her head. “But I do know that for as long as I’m allowed, I want to be with you.”
She looks back up, her lovely brown eyes rising to meet Koyamo’s. “Please let me be with you for however long I have left.”
Funny, before, it felt as if Koyamo was dating a firecracker. Someone that burned bright and hot. But now, Koyamo realizes that it was more like she was dating someone with a terminal disease. A fatal case of marriage would one day remove Nora from her life for good.
But that day is not now.
And if now is all they have…
Koyamo takes Nora by the hand. “Come inside,” she says. “I was just about to make breakfast.”
Nora steps inside, letting the heavy door close behind her. Then she sweeps Koyamo into her arms and kisses her, right there in the downstairs foyer, where anyone can see.
As it turns out, her firecracker isn’t completely extinguished after all. And Koyamo is burning just as bright and hot by the time Nora finally releases her.
They laugh at their instantly reignited passion, at their unexpected second chance.
Then they walk up the stairs. Together.
At least for now.
7
VICTOR
Amber, not Dawn, meets the car outside of the estate. She has two men with her, guards in tracksuits. One of them indicates to Victor’s driver, Tam, that he should park at the curb. Not inside the gates.
A calculated move to be sure. Victor inwardly curses from the backseat of the Bentley, where he’s sitting with Phantom.
Three dates are not a guarantee of success, and a Dragon must always have a Plan B. Victor wanted to get the lay of the land behind those iron gates just in case an extraction is required at the end of August. But Amber's refusal to so much as let them onto the property kills that hope.
Still, he keeps his face neutral as he climbs out of the car along with Phantom.
Amber doesn’t bother with greetings. “So, the rules are pretty simple. You get your cousin back when we get Dawn back. And if she says you’ve done anything to intimidate, threaten, or even upset her, we return your cousin with a bullet in one of his kneecaps, and the rest of the dates are off. Got it?”
“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Phantom says, his tone dryer than the curbside dirt beneath their feet.
Nonetheless, he hitches his overnight duffel up on his shoulder and steps forward to offer himself up for the exchange.
Meanwhile, Amber continues to address Victor. “I want to make sure you understand. I don't care what kind of relation this dude is to you. I will take out a gun and kill him myself if we don’t get Dawn back. She's under our protection.”
Phantom can take care of himself, and Amber assured them that his cousin would be made comfortable during his “visit.” Still, this is a lot to ask, especially of a fellow Dragon. Guilt gnaws at Victor’s stomach. But that guilt is overshadowed by the intense need to lay eyes on Dawn.
Victor agrees to Amber’s terms with a terse nod.
“He’s nodding,” one of the guards tells her.
“Sorry, I’m gonna need video consent for this one.” Ambers pulls out a phone and points it in Victor’s direction right before a digitized voice announces that she has started recording.
“Hey, hey,” Phantom says, holding a beefy hand up in front of the camera. “No pictures! No videos!”
“Oh, I'm sorry, you must've mistaken me for somebody you can order around,” Amber answers Phantom without lowering the phone. “I'm not letting Dawn go without some form of formal consent that he'll bring her back no matter what.”
Victor taps Phantom’s arm from behind to get his attention.
“It's all right,” he signs to Phantom.
Phantom furrows his brow. “Nothing about this is all right. If you ask me—”
“I didn't ask you,” Victor signs back, keeping his expression gentle but firm.
Phantom’s jaw works, but he lowers his hand from in front of Amber’s camera.