Page 101 of Emperor of Lust

A thing of beauty, designed to end lives.

“This sword,” he murmurs almost reverently, his eyes on the blade, “was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. The art of folding steel is truly magnificent. It takes layers upon layers to make something this strong. This sharp. This lethal.” He lets the words sink in, his fingers brushing the flat of the blade like a lover’s caress.

“It’s been in my family for generations,” he continues. “And when I came back to Japan, I claimed it from my grandfather.” His eyes lock onto mine with a glint that sends a chill down my spine. “He was the first person I killed with it—punishment for casting out my mother. It’s so old, and yet…” He sighs almost wistfully. “Still so sharp.”

He draws closer, power radiating off him in waves.

Without warning, the blade slices across my shoulder, and I feel stinging white-hot pain as it parts flesh, sending blood down my arm. I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Kolya smiles icily as his wrist flicks again. The blade slashes across my ribs on the opposite side. A fresh wave of pain and blood spills from my body as I groan tightly.

“Do you know how much blood a man can lose before he dies?” Kolya muses, twisting the blade to let the crimson drip down. “A surprising amount. Close to two liters—that’s half a gallon to you.” He smiles. “Forty percentof what a grown man has inside him, Mr. Nikolayev, before he would succumb toexsanguination, or death by loss of blood.”

Another slash, this time across my stomach, shallow enough to sting and deep enough to bleed. He’s taunting me, testing me.

I don’t break. I stare him down, letting the pain become part of me, a reminder that I’m still here, still alive.

Another cut opens my bicep. This time, I focus on something else to drive away the agony.

Hana.

Her lips. Her touch. Her kiss. The way she smells, and how she looks at me.

The man she makes me want to be.

Kolya’s gaze narrows, sensing a challenge. He leans close enough that I can see the small scar across his cheek. “You’regoing to make me enjoy this, aren’t you,” he murmurs, almost admiringly.

“Fuck…you…” I manage, my voice raw but steady.

He grins, white teeth flashing in the shadows. “Good. I like a fighting spirit, Mr. Nikolayev. For all our differences, it’s a good way to die: defiant!”

He lifts the blade again, and I brace myself, but the door behind him swings open before the next strike comes.

Ryu, the man I met at the gala, strides in, bowing low. “Ishida-san, there’s been an incident.”

Kolya’s grip on the blade tightens, face twisting with irritation. “I’m busy, Ryu.”

Ryu leans closer, lowering his voice. “There’s a fire, sir. Atherhouse.”

Kolya’s expression changes in an instant. Something dark and intense flickers in his gaze, shifting from calm cruelty to barely concealed panic. Without another word, he wipes thekatanaoff and sheathes it, casting one last look over his shoulder at me.

“Keep him alive,” he commands his men. “I’m not done with him.”

With that, he strides out the door, leaving me with Ryu and the guards. My breathing is ragged and my body is in agony, but I can’t stop the faint smirk that comes to my lips.

Kolya, it would seem, has a weakness. I just don’t know what—or who—it is yet.

Silence descends over the room before Ryu clears his throat. “Leave us,” he murmurs coldly. The two other guards nod, turning and stepping out of the room.

When we’re alone, Ryu smiles darkly and steps closer to me. Without warning, he brings his hand up, using a single finger to poke one of my bleeding wounds hard. I grit my teeth, groaning as the pain washes over me.

A cruel smile bleeds across his face.

“You were quite rude to me at our first meeting, Mr. Nikolayev.”

“How about I tell you how I fucked your mother before I send you away to eat a bag of dicks. We can pick up where we left off.”

Ryu’s lips curl slightly.

---