Page 52 of Emperor of Wrath

“Shit, baby!” A guy next to us at the bar interrupts me, turning around to leer drunkenly at Hana. “That was hot.”

“Great, thanks,” Hana says curtly, ignoring him and turning back to us.

“I got something else you can hold your hair back and wrap your lips around,” the guy slurs.

“Not interested, you can fuck off now, thanks!” she says brightly, giving him the finger over her shoulder. “Okay, so that was embarrassing. Now it’s one of your?—”

She jumps as the guy lurches off his bar stool and grabs her hips, yanking her ass against his crotch and grinding into her. Freya and I are both about to drop his ass, when Hana herself whirls. In the blink of an eye, she’s got him on his knees, with one hand twisted awkwardly behind his back and a look of terror on his face as he screams in pain.

“Fuck you!” he blurts. “Psycho fucking bitch?—”

Hana’s knee jerks, slamming into his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. She yanks his arm again, jerking him to his feet before suddenly dumping him back onto his ass on the floor. Then she drops suddenly, slamming the side of her hand into his face.

The guy screams as he gets to his feet, blood streaming from his nose, and stumbles off somewhere.

“Dude, what,” Freya blurts, staring at Hana in awe.

I’ve got the same shocked look on my face as she nonchalantly hands us our drinks.

“Second secret talent: I’ve done jiu-jitsu since I was five.”

“Hell to the fucking yes, girl,” Freya grins. “That was awesome!”

Hana shrugs, still blushing a little, which is extra hilarious seeing as she’s usually so put together and in charge. She takes a sip of her cocktail before she turns to Freya.

“Okay, you’re up.”

“Deal.” Freya turns to grin at me, and I already know which party trick she’s going to pull out. “I can get into an iPhone and steal money.”

Hana frowns dubiously. “Sorry, calling bullshit. No one can crack an iPhone. The FBI has to issue a summons to Apple when they want to get into one.”

Freya grins wider. “Watch and learn, new friend.”

She turns to scan the crowd, her eyes narrowing and a grin spreading across her lips. “Him. That guy. That’s the mark,” she says casually, pointing to a total finance bro with a three-hundred-dollar haircut and a gleaming, huge Rolex on his wrist.

Hana giggles. “It can’t be done. I’m telling you.”

“Well, then you get to say I told you so,” Freya smirks.

I watch, shaking my head as my friend hikes her dress up into a scandalously short skirt. She loosens the straps, letting them fall seductively off her shoulders and letting her tits almost spill out.

Yeah, Freya can be a serious femme fatale on the rare occasions she’s not cosplaying Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

“How the fuck is she going to pull this off?”

Freya stalks off toward her mark. “Just watch,” I murmur.

So we do, sipping our drinks as Freya sweet-talks the guy across the lounge. She pulls out all the stops, fawning over the guy, touching his shoulder and his chest, whispering in his ear.

In less than a fucking minute, he’s completely wrapped around her finger.

That’s when she strikes.

He hands her his phone, unlocked, presumably so she can give him her number. The guy turns to grin at his buddies while Freya smiles and taps away on his phone.

Immediately, her phone, which she’s left on the bar next to us, dings. Hana and I glance over, and I crack up when I see a Venmo notification that “Jack Myers” has just sent Freya five grand.

Hana explodes with laughter, covering her mouth as Freya slips the phone back into the guy’s hand, blows him a kiss, and sashays back to us.

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