Page 68 of Emperor of Lust

The problem, as I’m discovering, is that when it comes to Hana, it’s impossible to rein in my crazy. It won’t be—can’t be—leashed or caged around her.

“Hey, so…”

I turn to find Annika standing there, smirking and tilting her head as she gives me that half-mocking, half-affectionate look only she can pull off.

“Want to tell me why Hanareallyspent the night in your suite last night?”

I roll my eyes. “We’re playing a role, Anni.”

She studies me keenly. “How about I just ask: are you sleeping with her?”

I frown, simultaneously irritated and amused. “It’s not the salacious story you apparently want it to be,” I reply dryly as I turn back to the crowd, looking for Hana.

“Total non-answer,” Annika points out.

“Why do you care if it was?” I toss back, my tone unexpectedly sharp.

She looks at me for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “First, I want to be clear: I love you. You’re the brother I never had.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

She sighs, her expression softening. “That said… Hana is a good friend.”

“You’re worried that I’m going to drink her fucking blood or something sinister.”

Annika rolls her eyes. “I mean, I’m not thinking you’ll go full Hannibal Lecter…”

“But you’re still worried about her.”

“I’m worried about youboth.” She sighs quietly. “Look, I know you don’t do relationships?—”

“Says who?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes. “Doyou?”

“No,” I answer flatly, earning a smile.

She touches my arm, her gaze soft and steady. “I know what you have with Freya and me is rare. I know you don’t do intimacy.”

She’s not wrong. After my parents died, the part of me that might have welcomed that kind of closeness just…shut down. It’s a defense mechanism that’s become second nature. The problem is, Hana seems to be prying open a door I thought was deadbolted.

Annika studies me, and I suddenly get the strange feeling that she understands something I don’t even understand about myself. I might not know exactly what Hana means to me, but I do know she meanssomething.

A big something. Something more than I ever expected anyone to mean.

I’m about to open my mouth despite not knowing how to answer Annika when a hand lands on my shoulder.

“Apologies, Annika-san,” Miyamoto says, bowing slightly. “I’m afraid I must borrow Mr. Nikolayev for a moment.”

“Don’t go thinking for a second that we’re done with this conversation,” she sighs, shaking her head.

“Sure looks like we are,” I grin as Miyamoto gently tugs me away. My smirk fades the moment I’m led into a tight circle of Yakuza men, all watching me with both caution and interest.

"Gentlemen," Miyamoto says expansively, draping an arm around my shoulder like we’re old friends, "allow me to introduce you to my…how best to put it…formidable ally, Damian Nikolayev. This man," he grins, squeezing my shoulder harder, "is someone you want in your corner. He defended my own home from that bastard Kolya’s recent cowardly attempt to take us down."

One of the other men grunts, nodding in my direction. "Impressive, but it’s no small thing you two are attempting," he mutters, glancing around the circle. "With the Mori-kai and Nikolayev Bratva working together, you’re stirring up a hornet’s nest with Kolya Ishida. His people won’t take it well.”

I smile, unfazed. “They’re welcome to take it however feels best for them,” I shrug. “They’re still going to take it.”

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