Page 19 of Emperor of Lust

My fist clenches around the printout, rage brewing under my skin as I crumple it.

“Yeah, so, that’s just a printout,” she says patronizingly, standing there so confident, so supremely sure of herself. “I’m not sure if you know howemailswork, but destroying that paper doesn’t really doshit, so…”

She shrugs, that smug look still on her face. It’s infuriating and thrilling all at once, a tangled mess of feelings that twist and knot around me, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. I want to trap her and wipe that smug look off her face. I want to crush her defiance, break her down, make her see just how wrong she is to think she can walk out of here unscathed.

I don’t move. I hold my ground, forcing myself to stay calm and keep my expression unreadable, even as I feel her slipping from my grasp, her victory hanging in the air. She watches me for a moment longer before she glances again at the ropes and scoffs.

She turns on her heel, her steps measured and confident as she walks right past me, opens the door, and leaves.

Click.

Just like that.

The door shuts, the final sound of her departure echoing through the silence. I’m left alone with nothing but the quiet and the lingering scent of her perfume. I stare at the crumpled paper in my hand, the confession that’s torn away my power, the memory of her look of triumph still taunting me.

The silence presses down, each second stretching out, the irritation in my chest curling, twisting, and slowly morphing into something else.

Admiration.

Beneath the frustration, I feel a reluctant, grudging respect brewing for her cunning, her willingness to strip herself bare, to sacrifice everythingjust to keep me out of her life. No one’s ever done that before. No one’s ever had the unmitigated gall to stand in my path and stare me down with such cool, calculateddefiance. It wakens something inside me, a hunger that’s more demanding than the usual thrill, a challenge that I can’t ignore.

She may think the game is over, that she’s won and freed herself from my control.

That’s categorically not the case.

All she’s done is make herself more interesting. More worth pursuing.

I smile, my irritation shifting and settling into a new resolve, a fresh determination to bring her back under my thumb.

Hana Mori may have stripped away my leverage, but that only makes the game more enticing. Next time, I’ll make sure she’s cornered—truly cornered—with no escape in sight.

I toss the crumpled paper onto the table, a satisfied, almost dangerous glint in my eyes. She may think she’s done with me, but she seems to have overlooked one microscopic, insignificant detail:

She’s about to become my fucking fiancée.

You haven’t seen anything yet, Kitsune.

7

HANA

For the firsttime in what feels like days, I let myself exhale fully, savoring a rare sense of peace as the morning light filters into my bedroom.

It’s been four days since Damian’s penthouse. I’ve been tensely anticipating his next move—a message, another sudden, unnerving appearance—anything that would signal he’s still playing this insane game. But…nothing. Nada. Just silence, thank God.

He bought it.

That carefully crafted “confession” email I showed him—detailing the Mori-kai’s financial strain and my diligent, if misguided, plan to stabilize everything—was, obviously, bullshit.

Likefuckam I telling my family I’ve been secretly working with underworld lunatics and putting all our legitimate business assets in danger by funneling said lunatics’ dirty money through them.

Damian sure seemed to buy it, though.

I grin as I think about it, savoring the sweet victory snatched from the jaws of a predator. I outmaneuvered him, stripped him of the power he’d tried to hold over me. Boy, I’ll bet the fucker was surprised.

As I stretch my legs and stand by the window I feel lighter, like a weight’s been finally lifted. It’s surreal, this quiet sense of freedom, the feeling that I might actually have my life back. I close my eyes, breathing in the calm of the morning.

Yet beneath the surface, there’s a strange, nagging sensation. A faint disappointment I can’t quite shake. It’s absurd. I should be celebrating my victory, not second-guessing it. Damian’s absence is a blessing, a chance to return to the order and predictability I’ve built my life around. So why does part of me feel strangely…unsatisfied?

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