Sunday morning in Tokyo was quiet.
The cemetery sat on a hillside overlooking the city, old stones and fresh flowers arranged in careful rows. Incense smoke drifted through the air, mixing with the smell of wet earth from last night's rain.
Sienna stood near the entrance, pretending to read something on her phone. She wore black—respectful, unobtrusive, easy to overlook. Dominic waited in the car fifty meters away, watching through tinted windows.
Kenji Nakamura arrived at exactly 7 AM.
He was smaller than his photographs suggested. Thin, slightly stooped, dressed in a simple gray suit that probably cost more than most people's cars. He carried white chrysanthemums in one hand and walked with the slow purpose of someone who had made this journey many times.
Sienna watched him pass. Counted to sixty. Then sent the text.
**He's here. Third row from the east wall.**
The car door opened. Dominic stepped out, buttoning his jacket, and walked through the cemetery gates like he belonged there.
Sienna followed at a distance.
Nakamura knelt before his wife's grave, arranging the flowers with trembling hands. He spoke softly—Japanese, too quiet to hear, words meant only for the dead. His security team waited at the cemetery entrance, far enough to give him privacy.
Dominic stopped three graves away. Stood in silence, head bowed, hands clasped in front of him.
Nakamura noticed after a few minutes. His head turned slightly, eyes narrowing at the stranger who had appeared beside him.
"Mr. Nakamura." Dominic's voice was low, respectful. "Forgive the intrusion. I didn't want our first real conversation to happen in a boardroom."
Nakamura straightened slowly. His face revealed nothing.
"Mr. Ren. You've come a long way to ambush an old man at his wife's grave."
"I've come a long way to speak honestly with you. The boardroom makes that difficult."
"And you think this location makes it easier?"
"I think this location has no recording devices, no assistants taking notes, and no nephew watching your every reaction." Dominic paused. "I think you're tired of performing for people who don't have your best interests at heart."
Nakamura studied him for a long moment. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of a nearby maple tree.
"Walk with me."
They moved through the cemetery together, two men in expensive suits surrounded by the dead. Sienna kept her distance, watching, ready to intervene if needed.
She couldn't hear what they said. But she watched the body language—Nakamura stiff at first, then gradually loosening. Dominic speaking, then listening, then speaking again. Neither man smiled.
After twenty minutes, they stopped. Nakamura said something, and Dominic bowed—a real bow, deeper than courtesy required. Nakamura returned it.
Then the old man walked back to his car, and Dominic walked toward Sienna.
His face gave nothing away.
"Well?" she asked.
"Dinner tomorrow night. His home, not a restaurant. Just the two of us."
"He agreed to meet privately?"
"He agreed to listen." Dominic started walking toward their car. "That's more than Mori wanted him to do."
Sienna fell into step beside him. "What did you say to him?"
"The truth. That someone inside his company is taking money from Ryuji Sato. That the delays on our deal aren't about terms—they're about sabotage." He opened the car door. "And that I don't intend to let his legacy be destroyed by a man who gambles away his loyalty in Macau."
They got in. The driver pulled away from the cemetery, merging into the quiet Sunday streets.
"He believed you?"
"He's going to verify it himself. By tomorrow night, he'll have confirmed everything I told him." Dominic loosened his tie. "Then Mori becomes my problem to solve, not his."
Sienna opened her tablet, already adjusting the schedule. "What do you want to do with the rest of today?"
"Nothing."
She looked up.
"I have fourteen hours before that dinner. I'm going to sleep, eat something that isn't airplane food, and not think about Takeshi Mori until I have to." He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest. "You should do the same."
"I have work—"
"It can wait."
Sienna stared at him. In five years, she could count on one hand the number of times he'd told her to stop working.
"Are you feeling alright?"
His mouth curved slightly. Not quite a smile.
"Don't get used to it."
---
The hotel room was too quiet.
Sienna tried to work anyway. Answered emails, reviewed contracts, checked in with the New York office. But her mind kept drifting—to Nakamura's face at the cemetery, to Dominic's bow, to the strangeness of having free hours in the middle of a business trip.
At noon, she gave up and went for a walk.
Tokyo in daylight was different from the city she usually saw through car windows. She wandered through Shinjuku, past department stores and tiny ramen shops, businessmen rushing and tourists gawking. No one looked at her twice. She was just another woman in a black coat, anonymous in the crowd.
She found a small café tucked between two office buildings. Ordered coffee and a pastry she couldn't name. Sat by the window and watched people pass.
Her phone buzzed.
Yoona: jae got a job interview. actual job. actual interview. i might cry.
Sienna:that's amazing. where?
Yoona:some tech startup. his friend hooked him up. he's actually nervous about it. i've never seen him nervous about ANYTHING.
Sienna:maybe almost going to jail was a wake-up call.
Yoona:god i hope so. i can't keep doing this.
Sienna understood that feeling. The exhaustion of loving someone who kept making the same mistakes. The fear that one day you'd run out of patience, or money, or both.
Sienna:let me know how it goes.
Yoona:i will. how's the trip?
Sienna looked out the window. A mother walked past holding her daughter's hand, pointing at something in a shop window. An old man sat on a bench, feeding pigeons from a paper bag.
Sienna:quiet. for now.
Yoona:that sounds ominous.
Sienna:it probably is.
She finished her coffee and walked back to the hotel.
---
Dominic called her at six.
"Come to my room. We need to prepare for tomorrow."
His suite was twice the size of hers, with a living area that overlooked the glittering skyline. He sat on the couch with papers spread across the coffee table, sleeves rolled up, reading glasses perched on his nose.
The glasses always caught her off guard. He only wore them in private, late at night or early morning when his eyes were tired. A small reminder that he was human.
"Sit." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Tell me everything you know about Nakamura's wife."
Sienna sat. "Yuki Nakamura. Married forty-seven years. She was a schoolteacher before they married, gave it up to support his career. They had two sons—one died in a car accident fifteen years ago, the other runs the Kyoto division. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2019, died three months later."
"He visits her grave every Sunday?"
"Without fail. Even when he's traveling, he has flowers delivered."
Dominic removed his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He loved her."
"Clearly."
"No. I mean he still loves her. Present tense." He set the glasses down. "That's useful."
Sienna frowned. "How?"
"Men who love that deeply don't make decisions based on logic alone. Nakamura built his company for his family. His wife is gone, one son is dead, and the other has no interest in leadership. All he has left is his legacy." Dominic leaned forward. "Mori threatens that legacy. Once Nakamura understands that, he won't just remove Mori from the deal. He'll remove him from the company entirely."
"And that benefits you how?"
"It doesn't. Not directly. But it removes an obstacle and creates a debt." He gathered the papers, stacking them neatly. "Nakamura will remember that I showed him the truth when his own nephew was lying to his face. That memory is worth more than any contract."
Sienna watched him organize the documents. Precise, methodical, every movement purposeful.
"You planned this from the beginning. Before we even left New York."
"I plan everything from the beginning. You know that."
She did know that. Five years of watching him operate, and she still occasionally underestimated the depth of his calculations.
"What do you need me to do tomorrow?"
"Nothing. You won't be at the dinner."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Nakamura is traditional. He won't speak freely with a woman present—especially a young one he perceives as my subordinate. If you're there, he'll perform. If it's just us, he'll be honest."
The logic was sound. She still didn't like it.
"So I just wait in the hotel?"
"You wait wherever you want. But stay available. I'll call when it's done."
Dominic stood, signaling the end of the conversation. Sienna gathered her tablet and headed for the door.
"Sienna."
She turned.
He was watching her with an expression she couldn't read. Something almost like hesitation.
"Thank you. For the research on Mori. It made a difference."
She nodded. "That's my job."
"I know."
He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary. Then he turned back to the window, and she left.
---
Monday evening, Sienna ordered room service and waited.
She reviewed contracts, answered emails, called the New York office to check on a shipment that had been delayed. Normal work. Familiar rhythms.
At nine, her phone buzzed.
**Dominic:** Done. Meet me in the lobby in 20.
She changed quickly—black dress, low heels, the kind of outfit that worked for any occasion. When she reached the lobby, he was already there, standing by the entrance, coat draped over his arm.
"Walk with me."
They stepped outside into the cool night air. Tokyo hummed around them—traffic, voices, the distant sound of a train.
"How did it go?"
"Mori is finished. Nakamura has already called an emergency board meeting for tomorrow morning. By noon, Mori will be removed from his position and under investigation for accepting bribes."
"And the deal?"
"Signing next week. Better terms than we originally negotiated." Dominic walked with his hands in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead. "Nakamura apologized for the delays. Said he should have seen what Mori was doing."
"Did you accept the apology?"
"I accepted his gratitude. The apology was unnecessary." He stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light. "Sato will know within hours that his plan failed. He'll try something else. He always does."
"Should we be worried?"
The light changed. They crossed.
"Sato is patient. He won't move again immediately. But we should watch for signs—unusual activity in our Asian markets, pressure on our partners, anything that suggests he's shifting tactics."
Sienna made a mental note. Another thread to track, another enemy to monitor.
They walked in silence for a while. Past glowing storefronts and late-night restaurants, through crowds that parted around them without noticing.
They circled back to the hotel eventually, taking the long way through side streets and quiet alleys. By the time they reached the lobby, it was nearly midnight.
"Flight leaves at ten tomorrow," Sienna said. "I'll have everything ready by eight."
Dominic headed for his room without breaking stride.