Page 59 of Emperor of Lust

Damian

What?

Hana

Tak just arrived. I’m with him and Anni in his suite down the hall.

Damian doesn’t reply immediately, but Annika’s phone dings with a text.

“Shit,” she giggles, glancing down. “I totally forget to tell Damian I was coming to town.” She types away, then looks up at me. “How’s that whole charade going?”

“Just great…” I say dryly.

My phone dings with a new text from Damian.

Damian

Interesting.

Hana

Believe me now, dickhead?

Damian

Calling me names gets me harder.

I huff, my fingers tapping a quick, defiant reply.

Hana

I’m staying here tonight. Maybe you can find someone else to tie up.

Damian

Appearances MATTER, Hana.

Hana

Last I checked, Miyamoto and the rest of the oyabuns aren’t camping out in our suite to make sure we share a bed every night. I’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future. Have fun with your ropes, psycho.

I drop the phone onto the table, satisfied. My triumph doesn’t last. A few minutes later there’s a call from the front desk, telling me there’s a package for me. Tak offers, but I shake my head.

I’msureit’s Damian. It’s probably a “package” of images of his dick, or something worse.

I head downstairs, waving to four Mori-kai guards I recognize on duty in the lobby. I collect the padded manila envelope from the concierge and then step back into the elevator to go upstairs.

I tear open the envelope as soon as the doors close, expecting a pile of dick pics. My brow knits when I reach inside and pull out an iPad, a post-it note stuck to it that reads “Play Me.”

Confusion and apprehension coil in my stomach, but I can’t stop myself. I power on the iPad and press play on the only thing on the home screen: a video with a black thumbnail.

Instantly, the air goes cold.

My whole body stiffens, and it feels like razors are being dragged across my skin.

There, on the screen, isme.

I’m eighteen years old, struggling as Josh laughs and ties my arms to the bedposts in the guest room at that party I never should have gone to. I see myself scream into the T-shirt stuffed into my mouth, see the tears streaming down my face, hear the jeering of his buddies in the background.

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