Page 5 of Emperor of Wrath

So I’m one hundred percent hands-off whatever Kir wants to get into with the Yakuza. Because if I walk into a room with Sota, there is a one thousand percent chance that it’ll be Kenzo waiting for me.

But that’s another problem for another day. The more immediate issue is Kir sipping champagne at the very party I have to sneak through so I can burgle the place. Which is something I’ve promised him I won’t do anymore.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I hiss.

“Hang on…” I can hear Freya typing madly on her laptop. “Okay, I’m in his phone…”

Yeah, this is what she does. It’s perhaps why I have trust issues.

“I’ve got his schedule.” She swears. “He landed in New York a few hours ago. He does have a personal invitation from Cillian. I think they might know each other from London.”

“Wonderful,” I grunt.

“It looks like he’s called you a dozen times since he landed?”

I wince. “I’ve been ignoring him. He wants to pressure me to get in a room with the Yakuza.”

“Yeah, that’s a hard no because of you-know-who.”

“No shit.”

“Well, you gotta get past him. Our window closes soon.”

Cillian’s friend, from whom he’s borrowing the creepy death mask, is attending the party tonight. But he’s leaving early to fly to Rome in his private jet. When he goes, the mask goes, too.

“It’s okay,” I breathe. “I’ve got this. I can?—”

“Fuck. Me. Sideways.”

My brows knit. “What?”

Freya swallows. “We need to call this.”

I scowl. “What?”

“Get out,” Freya snaps. “Seriously. This is done.”

A chill ripples up my spine. “What’s going on, Frey?”

“I’m tapped into the security cameras, and I’ve got eyes on Kir.”

“And?”

She hesitates.

“He’s talking with Kenzo Mori.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. Every nerve ending spasms. Every hair stands up on end as something cold finger-walks up my spine.

“Here?!” I squeak.

“I’m looking right at him,” Freya hisses back. “Huge. Scary-looking. Black hair. Yakuza ink. Looks like he might pull out a samurai sword and a Viking ax and cut someone in two. Someone like…oh, I dunno…you?”

My heart thuds against my chest as my hands tighten to fists, my palms suddenly sweaty.

“Fuck,” I hiss. I yank out my phone out, wincing at all the missed calls and texts from Kir before bringing up my text thread with Damian and tapping furiously.

Me

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