Page 24 of Emperor of Lust

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, glancing at my reflection once more. With the necklace around my neck, I feel different. Stronger. Tonight might be all an illusion, but I canendure it. If Sota can give up so much in the name of loyalty and family, then I can handle this.

I turn back to him, letting my shoulders relax a bit. “It’s just pretending to be married to that lunatic, right?” I shrug. “I mean, anyone could do that.”

Sota grins. “Well, countmeout. But you?” He winks at me. “You’re my Kitsune.”

I start, my eyes snapping to his as my heart lurches into my throat.

“Wh-what?” I choke.

Sota just smiles. “Kitsune,” he chuckles. “The fox spirit. Smart and cunning, just like you.”

He steps back, his gaze lingering on me for a moment.

“Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you into the party?”

I swallow, a wry smile on my lips. “The honor would be all mine, Akiyama-san.”

The party isin full swing by the time we get downstairs. It spreads throughout the first floor of our house and spills out into the gardens, elegant party-goers sipping drinks, laughing, and mingling.

I feel myself grinning at the first warm, mellow notes of John Coltrane’s “My Little Brown Book” coming from averygood jazz band in a corner of the living room. I turn to Sota just as he pullsaway from me, catching a sly grin on his face as he winks and drifts away to talk to some old Yakuza pals.

Oh, Sota. This was totally his doing. He knows how much I love jazz and how much I hate this whole arrangement. So he’s brought in some serious talent for the evening to try to take my mind off all this.

It might actually work.

I snag a glass of champagne from a passing tray and turn to enjoy the band, which is absolutely killing it.

I take in the party as I listen to the music and sip my bubbly. The Mori and Nikolayev families have spared no expense in creating a lavish celebration, even if it’s a farce and a formality. The soft glow of chandeliers casts an intimate light over the well-dressed crowd of faces, some familiar, others unknown to me.

Annika appears at my side, giving me a quick hug and complimenting the necklace from Sota. Just as she’s asking me about the music, I spot a familiar figure entering the party.

Miyamoto Kato.

Shit.

Annika catches the look on my face and wrinkles her nose. “Duty calls, I presume?”

I groan. “If by that you mean smiling like a good little old-fashioned obedientwomanfor Mr. Old-Fashioned who’s responsible for this entire fucking debacle involving me getting engaged to that fuckingpsycho?—”

I make a face as I glance back at her.

“Sorry,” I wince. “That came out?—”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.”

We both turn as Freya inserts herself into the conversation, dressed, predictably, in all-black with her usual gothy black spiked choker and huge black vinyl platform boots.

“Like, Damian’s batshit crazy.”

Annika snorts, rolling her eyes. “Frey!”

“What?” Freya giggles. “I can say that. He’s my cousin, for fuck’s sake. And c’mon, like you don’t think it too. I love the guy, but jeez…” She turns to give me a sympathetic look. “Really don’t envy you.”

“Super encouraging, Frey, thanks,” I mutter.

She laughs and hugs me. “Sorry, I’ll shut up now. Also, you’ve got a fan staring holes in the back of your head.”

I turn to see Miyamoto smiling at me from across the room. He raises his glass to me when I catch his eye.

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