Sienna's alarm went off at 4:30 AM.
She silenced it before it finished the first ring, already reaching for her phone. Emails had piled up overnight—twenty-three from the Tokyo team alone, another fifteen from various departments panicking about Dominic's sudden absence.
She answered the urgent ones while brushing her teeth. Packed while confirming the flight details. Applied makeup in the car to the airport, using her phone camera as a mirror.
At the private terminal, Dominic was already boarding. He wore a dark coat over a charcoal suit, phone pressed to his ear, speaking Mandarin to someone who was clearly getting an earful. Sienna caught fragments—something about a delayed shipment, someone named Chen who had failed to deliver.
She climbed the stairs behind him, stowed her carry-on, and settled into her usual seat. The plane was a Gulfstream G650—cream leather, polished wood, more space than some apartments. She'd stopped being impressed by it after the first year.
Dominic finished his call as the plane taxied. He dropped into the seat across from her, loosened his tie, and closed his eyes.
"Wake me when we reach cruising altitude."
"You have a call with the London office in two hours."
"Push it."
"I already pushed it twice this week."
"Then push it again."
Sienna made a note on her tablet. Dominic's breathing evened out within minutes. She watched him for a moment—the tension in his jaw even while sleeping, the way his hand rested on the armrest like he was ready to move at any second.
Five years, and she still couldn't tell if he ever truly relaxed.
She turned back to her work.
---
The flight was fourteen hours.
Sienna spent the first six reviewing the Nakamura file. Kenji Nakamura was seventy-three, old money, traditional values. He'd built his electronics empire from a single factory in Osaka and resented anyone who hadn't earned their fortune through similar suffering. Dominic's wealth—inherited, multiplied, ruthless was everything Nakamura despised.
The deal should have closed two months ago. A joint venture, shared technology, access to Nakamura's Asian distribution network in exchange for Ren Industries' capital and Western markets. Both sides benefited. Both sides had agreed.
Then Nakamura's CFO started making noise.
Takeshi Mori. Forty-eight. Nakamura's nephew by marriage, promoted beyond his competence because of family connections. He'd been against the deal from the start,saw it as selling out to foreigners and had spent the last month finding excuses to delay.
Sienna pulled up everything she had on Mori. Financials, personal life, known associates. Divorced, no children, a gambling habit he thought he'd hidden. Three trips to Macau in the past year, each one followed by a suspicious influx of cash into his personal accounts.
She flagged it. Dominic would want to know.
Around hour eight, he woke. Didn't speak, just opened his laptop and started working. Sienna ordered food for both of them—miso soup, grilled fish, rice. He ate without looking up from his screen.
At hour ten, he finally spoke.
"What did you find on Mori?"
"Gambling problem. Macau. Someone's been covering his losses, but I can't trace the source yet."
"Who benefits if this deal falls through?"
"Mori keeps his position. Nakamura stays independent. And anyone competing with us in the Asian market gets to breathe for another year." She pulled up a list on her tablet. "Three companies have the resources and the motive. Huang Electronics, Park Industries, and Sato Corp."
"Sato."
"You think?"
"Ryuji Sato and Nakamura have been rivals for forty years. If Sato could sabotage this deal while making Nakamura think it was his own decision—" Dominic's eyes narrowed. "That's exactly what he would do."
"You want me to dig into the connection between Mori and Sato?"
"I want you to find proof. Before we land."
Four hours. Sienna nodded and got to work.
---
She found it at hour thirteen.
A shell company in Singapore. Registered to a name that meant nothing, but the address matched a property owned by Sato Corp's subsidiary. The company had made three payments in the last six months—each one timed perfectly with Mori's Macau trips.
Sienna sent the documents to Dominic without comment.
He read them. His expression didn't change, but something in the air shifted.
"Does Nakamura know?"
"Unlikely. Mori's been careful."
"Not careful enough." Dominic closed his laptop. "When we land, arrange a meeting with Nakamura. Private. Not at his office—somewhere his people can't listen."
"And Mori?"
"He'll be dealt with after."
The plane began its descent. Tokyo sprawled beneath them, neon and concrete, a city that never stopped moving. Sienna watched the lights grow closer and felt the familiar tension settle into her shoulders.
This trip had just become something else.
---
They landed at Haneda at 9 PM local time.
A car was waiting—black sedan, tinted windows, a driver who bowed and said nothing. Sienna slid into the backseat beside Dominic, her tablet open, already arranging the private meeting.
"Nakamura has dinner reservations at a restaurant in Ginza tomorrow night. I can get us a table nearby."
"No. That's too public." Dominic stared out the window at the passing city. "His wife died three years ago. He visits her grave every Sunday morning, alone. No security, no staff."
Sienna paused. "You want to approach him at his wife's grave?"
"I want to speak to him without Mori's influence. The location is incidental."
"That's…."
Dominic turned to look at her. "Is that a problem?"
Sienna held his gaze. Five years had taught her when to push and when to fold. This was neither.
"I'll confirm the cemetery location and timing."
"Good."
The car pulled up to the hotel. The Park Hyatt, top floor suite, a view of the city that most people would pay thousands to see. Sienna had stayed in enough luxury hotels that they'd stopped feeling special.
They checked in separately. Her room was on the same floor as his, three doors down. Standard arrangement—close enough to respond quickly, far enough for privacy.
She unpacked, showered, and was reviewing the next day's schedule when her phone buzzed.
Yoona Jae is being an ass. won't even apologize. i'm going to kill him.
Sienna:don't. prison is worse than bail.
Yoona:barely. how's tokyo?
Sienna:just landed. long day tomorrow.
Yoona:you work too much.
Sienna:says the woman who called me about bail money at 6pm on a tuesday.
Yoona:touché. get some sleep. love you.
Sienna:love you too.
She plugged in her phone, turned off the lights, and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, Dominic would ambush a seventy-three-year-old man at his dead wife's grave. He would do it calmly, without a shred of guilt. And Sienna would stand beside him, tablet in hand, making sure everything went smoothly.
This was her life. She'd chosen it.
She closed her eyes and waited for sleep.