Page 57 of Emperor of Wrath

Annika gives me an infuriatingly cheeky grin. “Miss me?”

The smug smile drops in a heartbeat when I surge across the room into her, forcing her against the wall behind her.

“Is this a game to you? A fucking joke?”

She swallows and slips past me, walking over to the table and picking up a bottle of water. “Not a game,” she shrugs, cracking the bottle and chugging half of it before shoving her hair back from her face. “A joke?” She shrugs again. “I mean, yeah, kind of?—”

She gasps sharply as I grab her wrist, knocking the water bottle from her hand as I yank her back to me, spin her around, and slam her against the wall, looming over her. All the sass and color fades from her face as she stares up at me.

“Um, excuse me?”

Her hair is a mess. Her makeup from the night before is smudged and faded. There are bags under her eyes, and I’m pretty sure I can still smell the alcohol on her.

But Jesus Christ she’s hot.

It’s inexplicable and undefinable, and way more than just looks, too. It’s like there’s a power radiating off her. Maybe pheromones or some shit. Or… Who knows.

Regardless, my pulse is racing from more than just anger. My skin is throbbing, as if the few inches between us is too great a distance.

It’s making my dick hard as fucking steel, too.

“What’s the matter, Kenzo?” she purrs, batting her eyes exaggeratedly. “Were you worried?”

“I’m going to take the bait and say yes.”

She makes a puppy-dog face. “Awww, how?—”

“Not for you, princess,” I growl. “For my sister. For what today means to a lot of other people besides fucking you.”

She exhales slowly, looking away as she tries to smooth her gingery red hair.

“We…got carried away last night.”

“Where the fuck were you? We’ve had people looking all over the city since last night.”

She winces. “Our phones died.”

“Where. Were. You.”

Her full bottom lip retreats between her teeth.

“Goddammit, Annika, I am not in the mood. Where?—”

“Montreal.”

At first, I’m sure I misheard her. But as the silence lengthens and the heat spreads over her cheeks, I realize I did not.

I stare at her. “I’m not sure I was clear about the not joking?—”

“I’m…” She swallows. “Not joking.”

“Excuse me??”

“There may have been a…misunderstanding.”

“With?”

She smiles weakly. “The cops?”

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