THE CLEANER’S LITTLE GIRL CALLED THE JAPANESE MAFIA BOSS “DADDY”—AND THE WHOLE ROOM WENT DEAD SILENT

Heavy gunfire shattered the serene quiet of Mercer Island as mortar flares lit up the night sky in blinding white phosphorus. Nikolai Morozov’s mercenaries had bypassed the outer lake defenses using sub-surface diving equipment and heavy firepower, storming the compound’s lower terraced gardens.

Upstairs in the private wing, Claire rushed into the bedroom, scooping Harper into her arms. The little girl woke instantly, terrified by the thunderous explosions rattling the cedar walls.

“Mommy! Mommy, what’s that noise?” Harper sobbed, burying her face into Claire’s neck.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just thunder. Mommy is right here,” Claire whispered fiercely, rushing toward the concealed reinforced steel door behind the Japanese screen—the safe room Kenji had instructed her to use.

Suddenly, the glass balcony doors exploded inward in a shower of deadly crystalline shards.

Two masked men in black tactical gear and heavy ballistic vests dropped onto the wooden floor, raising their suppressed rifles. Claire screamed, throwing herself backward to shield Harper with her own body.

“Drop the kid!” the lead mercenary barked in a thick Eastern European accent, leveling his weapon at Claire’s forehead.

Before the trigger could be pulled, a dark silhouette materialized behind the second mercenary like a phantom from the shadows.

A flash of steel caught the flare light. Kenji drove a combat blade straight through the mercenary’s tactical vest with lethal precision, spinning the falling body into the second gunman. The rifle fired wild, tearing holes into the plaster ceiling.

In a single, fluid blur of devastating violence, Kenji closed the distance, striking the remaining gunman’s throat with an open palm before disarming him and slamming his head against the solid oak frame. The man dropped instantly, unmoving.

Kenji stood over the bodies, his suit jacket torn, blood dripping from his knuckles, but his eyes were focused entirely on Claire and Harper.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his chest heaving.

“We’re okay,” Claire cried, trembling violently as she held Harper close. “We’re okay!”

Harper peeked out from her mother’s arms, looking at Kenji. There was no fear in the child’s eyes—only awe. “You’re like a superhero, Mr. Kenji.”

Kenji caught his breath, his expression softening despite the carnage around them. “Not a superhero, little one. Just a man who keeps his word.”

Mason Kuroda appeared at the broken doorway, his submachine gun smoking. “Boss! The ground teams have pushed the vanguard back to the shoreline. But Nikolai himself is on a command yacht two miles out in the bay. He’s threatening to launch drone strikes on the harbor shipping terminals downtown if we don't deliver the cipher by dawn.”