Page 13 of Emperor of Lust

I have to choose my words carefully around Annika and Freya when it comes to Damian. I mean,Icertainly think he’s a psychopath. They might, too. But he’s also basically their brother, and has been for years. Hell, it recently came to light that he literallyisFreya’s cousin.

Mal, who’s been pretty silent until now, finally speaks, his voice cool and controlled. “There’s a plan in place to deal with the Ishida-kai, but it’s going to take time to execute,” he says, casting a pointed look at Takeshi. “If it works, the strategy will be effective, but not immediately.”

Takeshi bristles, scowling and shooting Mal an irritated look. “I’m working on it,” he growls darkly. There’s a dangerous fire in his eyes: a look I know well that sends a chill down my spine

I mean,speaking ofpsycho brothers…

I turn to him, unable to keep the question from popping out. “What plan is this?”

Takeshi’s jaw tightens, his gaze hardening as he shakes his head. “Not one you need to worry about,” he mutters, brushing me off with clipped finality.

Mal smirks, but there’s a faint crease in his brow as he glances at Takeshi. “Yeah, well, work on itfaster,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. There’s an edge to his tone that only heightens my suspicion that whatever they’re planning is serious, and probably reckless.

Kenzo clears his throat, the tension in the room shifting and refocusing as he straightens, his expression hardening intosteely resolve. “Takeshi’s plan is already in motion,” he says, his voice carrying a note of finality, “but we can’t depend on one single strategy. We need a stable entry into Tokyo, and for that we need Miyamoto’s support.” He turns to me, a hint of regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hana. But this is how it has to be. For now, this is our only shot into Tokyo.”

“And you think Tokyo is worth it,” Freya snaps.

I glance at her and grin.

That’s my girl.

Even so, after she winks at me, I sigh.

“It is,” I say quietly. “Worth it, I mean. Kyoto is one thing. But Tokyo is another level entirely, you know that. We carve out a place there for the Mori-kai, and we become the elite. Completely untouchable.”

Kenzo meets my eye and dips his chin.

Thank you, he mouths silently.

I nod back. “Just don’t expect me to be happy about it,” I add quietly.

My tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it, a defiance that I cling to like a lifeline. I may be a pawn in this game, but this pawn won’t get captured without a fight.

The first softlight of dawn filters through my bedroom curtains, casting a muted glow across the room. The quietstillness should be comforting. This hour has always beenmytime, a brief reprieve before the day’s demands begin.

But this morning, my thoughts are restless, tangled and frayed, haunted by shadows I can’t shake.

With a slow exhale, I slip out of bed and begin my routine, the familiar motions grounding me as I silently move through them. I rise at 5 a.m. sharp, just as I have every morning since I can remember. But today the minutes feel heavier, stretching out with an oppressive weight as though time itself is conspiring against me. The polished surfaces of my room reflect my unease, the early morning light shining off the edges of my neatly arranged belongings, everything exactly in its place.

Unlike my life right now…

Ever since the warehouse—ever sincehim—it feels as though that curated order has started to fracture. Part of me feels tainted, like I’ve invited something dark and uncontrollable into my life, something that has no place in the world I’ve so carefully constructed.

I force my mind to quiet as I pull on my workout gear: sleek black leggings, a fitted tank, my hair twisted back in a severe bun. In the mirror, I see my reflection staring back, expression impassive and controlled—at least on the surface. I turn away, heading through the mansion’s silent hallways toward the private gym.

The house feels empty, my family tucked away, each of them following their own morning routines. Kenzo and Annika are probably just getting up, too. Freya and Mal, meanwhile, have probably just gone to bed, seeing as Mal is now matching Freya’snocturnal-by-necessity schedule, what with her skin condition when it comes to sunlight.

Tak isalsoprobably just going to bed now. But that has nothing to do with skin issues and everything to do with the fact that he was most likely out partying or causing havoc and mayhem until an hour ago.

In the gym, I begin my warm-up stretches, movements I know by heart. I shift into high-intensity cardio, my legs pumping, my breath falling into a rhythm, the pounding of my heart syncing with each step.

Normally, this routine clears my mind, centers me, draws out any tension until all that’s left is focus. Today, my thoughts refuse to settle. Each movement feels difficult, as though I’m dragging an invisible weight behind me.

The memories rush back unbidden, sharp and clear.Hiseyes, and the predatory gleam in them that sliced through the darkness in the warehouse. His touch, rough and possessive, fingers tracing my lips with a taunting control that somehow captivated me even as it infuriated and terrified me. The memory still sends a shiver down my spine, my body reacting with a tension I can’t explain or shake.

I push through my jiu-jitsu drills, throwing punches and blocking invisible opponents, forcing myself through each sequence with drive and determination. But my body betrays me, my muscles stiff and unresponsive, my movements lacking the fluidity I’ve honed with years of discipline. There’s a heaviness in my chest, a frustration I can’t release. It’s as though he’s invaded even this, my inner sanctuary, leaving his mark on the one place I’ve always felt in control.

Asshole.

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