Page 125 of Emperor of Wrath

“I am the Yakuza in this city, you dumb fuck,” I growl. “Your only hope was to get out before the roads closed.” I shake my head. “You won’t leave Kyoto alive now, I promise you.”

One of Ulkan’s men’s phones rings. He barks into it, nods curtly, then hangs up and tells his boss something. Ulkan’s lips curl as he turns back to me.

“It would seem, Mr. King,” he snickers, “that your people have found us.”

I smile darkly. “Here’s my offer. Let this woman and her children walk out of here. Untie me and lay down your weapons. Offer no resistance. If you do all of that, I will grant you a clean, painless death. The alternative, believe me, will be quite the opposite.”

Ulkan just grins at me. “Please forgive my imperfect English, Mr. Mori. I meant one of your people, not several of them.”

Shit.

“Tell me, Kenzo,” he drawls. “Which of your friends rides a pink, purple and black bike? Because I’m about to kill them in front of you.”

I try to think. Takeshi has a half dozen bikes he tinkers with, but he mostly rides the black one with the gold dragon. Hana’s go-to is the white Yamaha with the red slash, and Mal likes the black and neon green Ninja?—

It hits me like a cold stab of ice to the heart.

…Annika was on a pink, purple, and black bike when she, Tak, and Hana went on their joyride.

Oh God…

Before I can get control of my emotions, Ulkan begins to chuckle. “Oh, please tell me I’m not that lucky,” he wheezes. “Did your bitch wife come to save you, Kenzo? Is she the one who?—”

“The next time you speak about my wife like that,” I growl evenly, “I will cut out your tongue.”

He smirks. “I’m terrified, Mr. Mori,” he mutters sarcastically. His eyes gleam. “You see, it’s not even the money she owes me that I’m concerned about anymore. As I said, it is our honor that is most precious in this world. To be wronged like she wronged me requires”…he levels a cold gaze at me…“an equal response. She stole some of my honor. So when she charges in here to save you, Mr. Mori, I’ll be taking some of hers…”

I stiffen as he leans down close to my ear.

“Out of her ass, in front of you. In fact, I think I’ll let all my men have a turn at that hole.”

He laughs as I roar at him, thrashing in the chair I’m tied to.

“Stay as angry as you like, Mr. Mori,” he chuckles, turning to bark orders at his men as the sound of a motorcycle rumbles up outside the apartment block. “It matters not to me.”

Of the original dozen men Ulkan had at Valon’s rental, there are only six here now. The rest took off in other cars, and I’m guessing they’re the ones scouting ahead who called to let him know about the roadblocks.

But that’s still six fucking guys here. And they might not have guns, but they’re still hefting sizable knives, clubs, and in one case, two hatchets.

“ANNIKA!” I roar at the top of my lungs. “GET OUT! LEAVE! IT’S A TR?—”

I grunt as Ulkan backhands me across the mouth again, scrambling my vision as blood sprays from my lips. The woman and her children in the corner flinch and turn away as Ulkan storms over, grabs a dishrag off the counter next to them, and comes back to gag me with it.

The engine turns off outside. Ulkan nods at his men, muttering something in Albanian.

No.

I roar into the dishrag, bucking and slamming against the chair back as if to smash it and get free. But it’s hopeless, and my roars aren’t loud enough. She’s going to walk right into this trap.

Outside, I hear the sharp yells of Ulkan’s men as they go charging out the front door. Annika herself doesn’t scream. All I hear is the clang of steel on steel. Again and again, and then the sound of a man groaning in agony.

More clashes of metal on metal. The wet gurgling sound of death taking another man.

A wrenching cry of pain as yet another goes down screaming.

What the fuck. That’s three she’s taken out now.

My eyes dart to Ulkan. His face is lined, worry creasing his brow as he pulls a mean-looking machete out of his belt. He edges toward the front door of the apartment, gripping the machete tightly as a fourth man screams outside, dying.

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