Page 85 of Emperor of Wrath

I look away, my teeth sinking into the flesh inside my mouth.

I decided a long time ago that when the man who hurt me, abused me, and gaslit me went from having a name to being exclusively referred to as “he who shall not be named” by Freya and I, he became a part of my past, buried in a locked box, with the key thrown into the ocean.

Then, not so long ago, Kir casually mentioned—to my horror—that he might be going into business with the fucker.

I could have told him. I should have told him. I could tell him right now, and there’s no doubt in my mind that Kir would immediately go put a bullet in the bastard’s head.

But the man standing in front of me has given me so fucking much: Purpose. Power. A new start in life.

Protection, family and love.

It’s sort of the same as how I keep my messy life separate from Taylor’s tidy one. Kir has built this empire from nothing and been kind enough to bring me and Freya along for the ride.

He doesn’t deserve the chaos I bring with me stemming from my own bad choices.

That’s why I never have, and never will, tell him the truth about my history with that fuck.

“Does he know?”

I flinch at the sound of Kir’s voice.

“Sorry, what?”

“Valon,” he says, totally unaware of the anxiety that name spoken out loud brings me. “Does he know it was you who took the damn car?”

I hate lying to Kir, so I rarely do. Today, I’m making an exception.

“No,” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”

He exhales slowly, his shoulders unclenching with relief. “Good,” he breathes. “Good.”

I clear my throat. “So, Kyoto?—”

“You’re going.”

I stare at him. “What??”

“Annika, someone shot at you the other night,” he hisses tightly. “Then a bomb drove into your wedding.”

I swallow. “Look, we both know any violence this early in the treaty with Sota could destroy?—”

“You think I give a fuck about the treaty?” he murmurs quietly, his brow furrowing deeply. “Anni, I give a fuck about you.”

He looks at me with genuine pain and concern.

“I’m sending you to Japan because I’m worried sick about you!” he hisses. “You’re family to me, Annika. I will not sit by idly while any harm comes to you.”

I shake my head. “Kir, you have men here in New York. I’m completely?—”

“And Kenzo has a fortress and an army,” he growls. “In Kyoto.”

I stare at him. “Kir?—”

“This isn’t a discussion, Annika,” he growls.

“Fuck that!” I hiss, lurching to my feet. “I’m not?—”

His phone dings loudly, cutting me off. Kir yanks it angrily from his jacket pocket and glares at it.

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