Page 18 of Emperor of Lust

He’s the one that came for me that night when I was lying in the hospital bed. He pulled me from the hole I was falling into, his face a mask of anger and grief. He took me in, raised me as his own, and molded me into the man I am today. Kir became more than an uncle; he grew to be my father, my mentor, the only person who truly understands the darkness that consumes me.

That darkness has always been there, bubbling just beneath the surface, a part of me that I’ve never even tried to tame. It makes me good at what I do, allows me to bend people to my will, to control them without hesitation.

It also, almost certainly, makes me…different.

“Neurodivergent.”

“Psychotic,” if we’re being trendy and edgy.

Both fun ways of tiptoeing around the phrase on everyone’s tongue:fucking crazy.

Still… I can’t let this thing with Hana go. I can’t shake the desire to see her break, to experience that moment when she finally realizes how little power she has against me. The idea of it sends a thrill through me that gets my blood hot and my dick rock-hard in a way that I know deep down is as dangerous as it is addictive.

I smirk, anticipation curling within me as I picture her walking through the door, her confidence fading the moment she sees the ropes and implements I’ve laid out and remembers what’s at stake. She might think she’s in control, but that’s the beauty of this game: she doesn’t know just how deep she’s in, how very tightly I’ve woven her into my plans.

A soft knock pulls my attention to the door, and a hungry grin prowls across my lips.

Let’s begin, Kitsune…

I open the door lazily and lean against the frame as I watch her stride in, her air of calm confidence highly amusing. She throws not a single glance in my direction, chin held high, stiletto heels clicking deliberately against the marble floor.

The dress she’s chosen has my cock swelling with hunger and need. It’s sleek, hugging her figure perfectly. She looks nothing like cornered prey. If anything, she appears to be stalkingme. The thrill her appearance sends through me is unexpected and addictive. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way, or had a challenge like this. I’d expected her to walk in with a hint of fear, maybe a tremor in her hands, perhaps even a trace of hesitation.

If I was particularly lucky, maybe she’d even beg me to reconsider our dark arrangement—fuck, I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself if she begged—but this boldness, this fire in her eyes is…unexpected.

And oh-so-tantalizing.

She stops in the middle of the room, in front of the ropes and cuffs I’ve laid out on the coffee table, her gaze unwavering when she glances at them. The air thickens with tension as I close the door behind me, savoring the click of the lock that subtlyreminds her that she’s in my world now. I watch the way she holds herself, so poised, so carefully controlled. It only fuels the hunger building inside me, the twisted satisfaction that she’s finally alone with me, exactly where I want her.

She meets my gaze, her expression neutral, her eyes cold. “I know what you’re doing,” she says, her voice low and steady. “At least, what you’re trying to do.”

I smirk, leaning back against the wall and letting my gaze drift over her languidly. “And what would that be?” I ask, my voice soft and taunting, letting her see just how little her bravado affects me.

Her gaze doesn’t waver. “This game you’re playing,” she says, her jaw set, her tone filled with contempt that cuts deeper than I want to admit. “Holding my secrets over my head while you try to…corruptme.”

I let out a low chuckle, the thrill spiking higher, a predator closing in on his prey. “Oh, I think we both know,” I murmur, my voice dropping to a growl as I step closer, “that it wouldn’t take much effort for me to corrupt you,Kitsune.”

She presses her lips together, defiance in her eyes as she reaches into her bag, pulls out a folded piece of paper, and holds it out to me. Her fingers are steady and her gaze unflinching, like she’s serving me court papers.

“Well, I’m not playing that game. In fact,” she says, her voice laced with quiet triumph, “I’ve removed all the pieces from the board.”

The smugness in her tone fans the flames of irritation smoldering beneath my calm exterior. I take the paper andunfold it, skimming the text, my smirk fading. It’s an email addressed to her entire family.

Fucking.Fuck.

It’s a goddamn confession. A full, detailed account of her money laundering, plus her explanation that it was intended to ease the Mori-kai’s financial strain.

I blink as a re-read it again.

Shit. She’s vaporized every ounce of leverage I held over her.

My jaw clenches as I read it yet again, irritation twisting in my chest.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to be desperate, cornered, begging for my silence. Instead, she’s ripped the rug out from under me.

The faint, smug curve of her lips only makes it worse.

I lift my gaze to hers, and there’s a spark of triumph in her eyes that sends both a dark thrill and bitter frustration coursing through me. She cocks an eyebrow, glancing at the ropes and cuffs on the table, her expression mocking. “So,” she drawls, her voice heavy with sarcasm, “play with your toys by yourself. I’m out. Nice try, though.”

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