Page 115 of Emperor of Wrath

And start to slow…

“Kenzo!”

I’m dimly aware that strong arms, maybe belonging to Mal, are trying to drag me away. But it’s Sota’s sharp, cold voice that finally breaks the spell. I turn, blinking, shoving my hair back and reentering reality.

It is Mal trying to pull me off Leka. Sota is standing in the ruined doorway, surrounded by his guards. Behind them all, I see her.

Annika.

She’s got her arms wrapped around herself and she’s ghostly pale, that frozen, catatonic look still on her face. And she’s shaking.

My hands drop from Valon, allowing the shithead to drag himself sputtering and gasping from the toilet.

I don’t say a word when I stand. I don’t look at any of them.

I just storm past them and grab her arm.

“We’re leaving,” I snarl. “Now.”

22

ANNIKA

It feels like I’m frozen in ice: numb everywhere, seeing the world through a frosty window I can’t quite clear.

I see nothing as we drive in utter silence. If Kenzo is even saying anything to me, I don’t hear it. But I also know he’s doing no such thing.

Since he took one of his men’s cars, buckled me into the passenger’s seat and hit the gas, we haven’t spoken a word.

He hasn’t even looked at me. Or maybe he has, but I’ve been too busy drowning in the pain and shame of my past to notice.

A cold, creeping sensation walks up my spine. I feel dirty. Gross. Untouchable and undesirable. It’s like whatever mask I’ve managed to hold up in front of my face has finally been yanked away, letting Kenzo see the ugly monster beneath.

I shudder, blinking out of my haze a little as the car screeches to a stop and the engine switches off. I glance dully out the side window, only then realizing that we’re back at Kenzo’s mansion.

He storms away from the car, shoving his fingers through his hair. I step out, following at a distance, my eyes downcast, a horrible, disgusting feeling of self-loathing souring inside of me.

Just before he reaches the front door, he whirls on me with a fury that sucks all the air from my lungs. His face curdles into a mask of anger, pain, and jealousy that stabs me like a blade as he looms over me.

“This,” he snarls, “is why I wanted that fucking list.”

My brow furrows, a shiver rippling down my spine as I stare at him. “List?” I choke. “What?—”

My face falls as it clicks.

I know what list he means.

“Fuck you,” I hurl at him, my voice hoarse. “FUCK. YOU.”

“Yakuza, Bratva, Mafia…” He shakes his head. “This is a small fucking world we exist in, wife. Tell me—who else am I going to walk into a goddamn meeting with, to talk business with, only to find out later that they fucked you!”

He roars the last part with so much anger and pain that I flinch.

“That is none of your business!” I choke, my eyes filling with tears.

“The fuck it isn’t!” he snarls back. He jabs a finger into the night. “You fucked Leka, what, once? More than once?”

Tears roll down my cheeks as the black walls inside me start to crack and crumble.

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