Page 66 of Emperor of Lust

“I was thinking more throwing him through his office window and counting the seconds before he becomes sidewalk goo. But your way admittedly sounds more efficient.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not well.”

“Andyou’renot working with a man you used to fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth.

“It’s none of your damn business,” I retort.

“Oh, it definitely is,” he snaps, the dark possessiveness in his voice sending an unwelcome thrill through me.

I glare at him. “It’snot, actually. And for the record, I never slept with Scott.”

Damian scowls. “What?”

I feel a flush creeping up my cheeks, annoyance flaring. “I never…I just… I don’t really sleep with people.”

Confusion darkens his features. “You never slept with a guy you called your ex-boyfriend.”

“No,” I say testily.

“Why.”

“Because I just didn’twantto, okay?!” I snap. “Don’t get so fucking alpha about it. Also, why do you even care if I slept with him? This isn’treal, Damian,” I whisper, the frustration bubbling up inside me.

His hand tightens around my arm, pulling me closer, the intensity of his gaze burning into me. “Maybe I’m method acting,” he growls darkly, his voice rough. “Or maybe I just don’t like the thought of anyone else touching what’s mine.”

I lean in, my voice a harsh whisper. “I’m not yours.”

“Debatable,” he mutters, eyes blazing.

I pull away, my frustration boiling over. “Not. Really,” I say through clenched teeth, then storm away before he can say anything else.

I keep my distance from him, working the crowd as much as possible. But less than an hour later, the gala’s quickly losing its charm. Too much conversation, too much pretending, too much forced smiling. I need air.

I slip out of the foyer and into a quieter hallway. The windows here are open onto a government park outside, letting in a breeze that’s cool and refreshing, washing away some of the tension. I lean against the windowsill, staring out at the park and the city beyond, finally feeling able to breathe.

“Of all the gin joints, huh?”

I freeze, the words snapping my spine rigid. My entire body stiffens, like a rope suddenly pulled tight.

Slowly, I turn around and come face to face with a ghost from my past.

The monster from that night all those years ago, Josh, is dead. But his two best friends, Prescott Harding and Edward Radcliff—both American like him—were also in the room that night.

Laughing at my screams. Jeering. Cheering their friend on.

It’s Prescott who stands before me now, smiling like we’re old friends.

Like hedidn’thowl with laughter as I screamed for mercy while his buddy was trying to rape me.

“You look good, Hana,” he says casually.

I can’t speak. Almost can’t breathe. He was there that night and did nothing. He watched, laughed, egged Josh on as?—

“What are you doing here?” I finally whisper, my insides twisting with fear I thought I’d buried long ago.

Prescott chuckles easily. “Just working,” he shrugs. “I’m with Edo Analytics now—actually, I just started working with an old friend of yours. Scott Hiroyuki?”

All I can do is nod, any words I might utter sticking in my throat.

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