Page 63 of Emperor of Wrath

Freya

As if that wasn’t my first thought?

Freya

Or Kir’s?

Me

Sorry. Kinda freaked out

Freya

Same. I’m just giving you a hard time. Yeah, there’s like ten guys at the hospital right now.

I exhale slowly. Thank God.

After I tell Frey to stay safe and to text again later, I pour myself yet another glass of vodka and knock half of it back. Then I check in with Taylor. Obviously, she’s holed up safe and sound in Drazen’s luxury tower penthouse, probably surrounded by like a thousand guards and fucking air support, knowing her husband.

It’s also pretty clear neither Drazen nor my sister was the target of the attack today.

Me

How r u?

Taylor

We’re good. I mean Drazen is ready to level the whole city right now. But once I calm him down, he’ll be good

I grin, happy that my twin is as safe as she can possibly be. At the same time, I hate that this happened with her there—that the messiness of my life almost got her hurt.

When I’m finally off my phone, I polish off the glass sitting next to me and pour…fuck. I’ve officially lost count. But I’ve stopped shaking, so there’s that?

Across the room, Kenzo is speaking quietly in Japanese. I don’t really know any, but I can vaguely guess from his tone that he’s probably talking to Sota.

I sip my drink, feeling warm and fuzzy as I watch him.

My husband.

I groan, scrunching up my face.

Fuck that feels weird to say, even inside my head.

I never once—and I truly mean that—pictured myself getting married. When I was younger and on the run, romance or even talking to a man never even crossed my mind. It’s hard to date, or even flirt, when you’re struggling to survive.

Later, of course, there was him. But….

I shudder as I bring the glass to my lips and drink deeply.

That was something else. That was hell. A prison. And even in the depths of my most pathetic moments with he-who-will-not-be-named, I never once thought it would end in marriage.

And after the horrors he put me through were behind me, I could barely look at another man. Much less date one. Or fall for one. Or even touch one…

A warm feeling spreads through me as my eyes drag across the dimly lit penthouse. Rain falls softly outside, pattering against the tall glass wall as I watch Kenzo. He’s still on the phone, but as I stare at him, his back to me, he shrugs off his jacket and gets rid of his tie. He holds the phone against his broad shoulder as he unbuttons his dress shirt and peels it away.

My lip slips between my teeth.

The vodka feels real nice in my core right now.

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