

Hanami Takamori
Raised on poison and discipline after her family was destroyed. At thirty-two she runs Kyoto’s underworld, and the spider on her shoulder is the last thing her enemies see.
“You know what I am.”
A yakuza queen who has never needed saving. A masked stranger whose name means ghost. Kyoto, as the blossoms fall.

Kyoto. Cherry-blossom season.
Hanami Takamori was six years old the first time she killed. The neighbours blamed a spider woman from an old legend. Twenty-six years later, she rules the city’s underworld, and grown men lower their eyes when she passes.
She trusts no one. She has never been kissed. She has never needed saving.
Then one shot rings out of the fog, and a masked stranger steps off a cherry tree onto her balcony. He leaves without saying a word. Later, she finds a blue rose in her hair. His name, when she finally learns it, means ghost.
He is hunting the poison that once destroyed her family. But he isn’t the only one in Kyoto with something to hide, and not every face in the city belongs to the person wearing it.
As the blossoms fall, a spider and a ghost must decide whom to trust, and whether a woman like her was ever meant to have a happy ending.
Drag the book to turn it.
Kyoto. Cherry-blossom season.
Hanami Takamori was six years old the first time she killed. The neighbours blamed a spider woman from an old legend. Twenty-six years later, she rules the city’s underworld, and grown men lower their eyes when she passes.
She trusts no one. She has never been kissed. She has never needed saving.
Then one shot rings out of the fog, and a masked stranger steps off a cherry tree onto her balcony. He leaves without saying a word. Later, she finds a blue rose in her hair. His name, when she finally learns it, means ghost.
He is hunting the poison that once destroyed her family. But he isn’t the only one in Kyoto with something to hide, and not every face in the city belongs to the person wearing it.
As the blossoms fall, a spider and a ghost must decide whom to trust, and whether a woman like her was ever meant to have a happy ending.
Two narrators take turns telling the story. A third character holds the heart of it.


Raised on poison and discipline after her family was destroyed. At thirty-two she runs Kyoto’s underworld, and the spider on her shoulder is the last thing her enemies see.
“You know what I am.”


Twenty-nine. A Reaper since nineteen, the kind of operator a family sends when someone has to stop existing. He has never failed a contract. In Kyoto he is hunting a drug called Blood Lust Dust.
“I am not a kind man.”


Eighteen, fearless, and the only person in Kyoto who calls Hanami “other mother”. She asked for her phoenix tattoo and told jokes through every hour of it.
“She had a smile that tilted to one side, as though she already knew a secret about me and had decided to like me anyway.”
The book is told by both of them. Choose whose voice to start with.
I am Hanami Takamori. You know what I am. This is how I was made, and I will tell it dry-eyed, because I spent the last of my tears in the year I am about to describe.
You may think that life for a yakuza princess is all limousines and private events and a great deal of money, scrubbed so clean it squeaks. You may also think that a family like mine is, whatever else it may be, a stable one. Blood. Loyalty. Fathers who would die for their daughters.
Guess again.
That was not the case with us.
My father’s name was Ishihara Takamori. That is the last time in this account I will call him my father. He forfeited the word, and I do not hand back what has been forfeited. From here on he is Ishihara. My mother keeps her title. She paid for it.
Continued in the ebook.
Saif: “Good job, Spectre.”
His voice comes through the earpiece a second and a half after the rifle stops moving against my shoulder. That is how long the round takes to get there, and how long Saif needs to see through his glass what I have already seen through mine.
I don’t answer him.
My name is Spectre Silas Specter. Spectre is mine. Silas is my father’s. Specter is the family’s, spelled the other way, as if one ghost was not enough for them. I am twenty-nine years old.
I am a Reaper. In the work my family does there are soldiers, and there are operators, and at the very top there are a handful of us they call Reapers. A Reaper is what you send when you want one particular person to stop existing and you never want to explain how. I have been one since I was nineteen. I have never failed a contract, and I have never lost a night’s sleep over one.
I am telling you this so that you don’t mistake what just happened on that hillside for kindness. I am not a kind man. I am a cold one, and I am very good at my work, and tonight I did my work badly on purpose.
Continued in the ebook.
Every scene is numbered in Japanese, the way the book prints them.
The full-page illustrations printed in the ebook, and the details hidden inside them.
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Hussain Al Zaabi is writing his second book. It is planned for release in 2027. Leave your name on WhatsApp and you will hear about it before anyone else.