Page 21 of Emperor of Wrath

“Touch me, and I’ll remove your head,” I hiss.

He smiles.

He fucking smiles.

“It’s adorable that you think knife play doesn’t turn me on, Ms. Brancovich. Or should I get used to saying Mrs. Mori?”

His hand leaves my jaw to grab my wrist, pinning the blade against his own neck.

“What other depravities can you tease me with?”

“You will not?—”

“What? Touch you? That’s just the appetizer. When I want to touch you, I will,” he growls darkly. “When I want you on your knees with your lips around my cock, I will put you there. And when I want to fuck you, however I want, wherever I want, I goddamn will. That is how you repay me.”

A shudder ripples through my entire core.

“H—how long,” I choke.

Kenzo smiles.

“Excuse me?”

“How long,” I spit.

He chuckles quietly. “Well, before, it would only have been until I deemed your debt repaid. But now, you’re simply…mine.” I tremble as he cups my jaw again, his eyes eviscerating me. “So it’s forever.”

In a blink, he drops his hands from me. He keeps his body pinned tight against me for a second longer, letting his eyes cut into my soul before he slowly takes a step back, taking his heat and that clean, woodsy, spicy scent with him as he starts to walk toward the bike. I allow myself to grin smugly.

“You might want to call a cab,” I call after him, my voice sparkling with joy. “Your bike might not be working so well.”

He stops, glancing back at me with a puzzled brow. I grin, twirling the switchblade in my hand. “Oopsie!” I giggle obnoxiously.

Kenzo arches a brow, turning to look at the flat tires on the motorcycle.

“Oh, that’s not mine.”

The smile drops from my face.

Shit.

“What the FUCK happened to my fucking bike?!”

I cringe at the rough, savage, furious voice behind me. We’ve never met, but I know who he is the second I turn and face the villainous guy who looks like an even more weaponized version of Kenzo.

Takeshi, his younger brother.

I know all about Kenzo and his siblings.

Know thy enemy, as they say.

“Seriously… What the fuck!?” Takeshi roars.

Again, we’ve never met. But I know his reputation. It’s reflected in his nickname in the underground fighting circles he dabbles in: the War Machine.

Fuck.

Kenzo smirks as he lifts a brow in my direction.

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