Page 15 of Emperor of Wrath

In any case, something in me snapped, and the blinders I’d kept on for the last three or four years fell away. I grabbed the first thing I could lay my hands on—a rusty metal pole—and I beat those boys with it over and over until they ran away, screaming and bloodied.

That’s how I met Freya.

Like me, she’d been born into one life and then found herself in another, living in alleys and fighting to survive. It was even harder for her because of her condition.

Freya has a rare kind of extreme photosensitivity called xeroderma pigmentosum. Her gothy look isn’t just an aesthetic. She’s ghostly pale because she literally can’t go out in the sun without getting horrific burns on any exposed skin.

After that first day, we became fast friends. Like me, Freya had learned to take what she needed, although she wasn’t the type to walk into a store and slip groceries into her hoodie. Her M.O. was to slip a card skimmer onto the checkout machine and then use a library computer to convert the money she’d skimmed into Bitcoin.

We teamed up and started taking on bigger jobs, stealing more than just “what we needed”. Eventually, we got in with certain types of people, and started to make connections and a name for ourselves.

Then came the dark years.

The years with…him.

I don’t like to talk about those years, or even think about that time in my life.

I smile weakly as Frey pulls away, letting me walk over to Damian’s bed. I sit in the chair next to it, biting my lip and feeling my breath hitch as I reach out and lay my hand on top of his pallid, unmoving one with the IV snaking out of it.

“Remember his opening line?”

I grin despite the horrible feeling that’s settled in my chest, turning to roll my eyes at Freya. “You mean ‘Tell me when you’re ready to stop wasting your time and start playing in the big leagues’?” I grunt in my best impression of Damian’s deep baritone.

And that was when Freya’s and my double act became a band of three, after the dark he-who-shall-not-be-named years. The two of us had disguised ourselves as catering staff for an elite dinner party in London being attended by a who’s-who of VIPs, state leaders, and a few criminal world kingpins.

We’d made out like fucking bandits. I lifted about a dozen six-figure watches, a bunch of jewelry, even a painting from the wall of the venue itself. Freya had been smiling away, pouring cognac and wine, skimming the no-limit credit cards in every pocket in the room.

A few hours later, we were enjoying a few celebratory drinks at a pub down the street when Damian made his dramatic entrance.

What we didn’t know until later was that it was his pub. Like, he owned the joint. That was how he was able to quietly empty the place of all staff and patrons before making his presence known, which we didn’t even notice because we were four drinks in.

Tell me when you’re ready to stop wasting your time and start playing in the big leagues.

I will never, ever forget seeing Damian for the first time—turning around and feeling surprised through my buzz at the built, six-foot-three, white-haired, frighteningly handsome young man with the purple eyes and the leering devilish grin.

Damian had been a guest at the dinner we’d just robbed. We’d even stolen his Rolex. But he wasn’t mad.

He was intrigued.

Like I said, Freya and I like taking things for the thrill as much as the money.

Damian likes hurting people he considers his enemies. And if he doesn’t want to straight up punch them in the face, hurting them in the wallet is always a good alternative. I guess he thought we could help him there.

I wince as I gaze at his unresponsive body lying in the bed. He’s so strong, and a total gym rat. To see him like this is just…crushing.

“Anni.”

I look up to see Freya staring at me with a haunted expression. We texted briefly earlier, and she knows what happened with Kenzo, but we haven’t had a chance to speak about it.

I’m not sure I’m ready for that, especially not here, with everything going on with Damian.

“Not yet,” I whisper hoarsely.

She nods.

Then her face crumples, her eyes dragging back to Damian.

“I just don’t understand how something like this could happ?—”

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