Page 91 of Emperor of Lust

“I'm okay," I whisper to him, feeling his gaze sweep over me, checking for any sign of injury.

I really am. My nerves are on edge, buzzing from the adrenaline still coursing through me, but physically I’m unharmed. Kai is, too.

In the chair across from me, Miyamoto sits with a pained expression, nursing his wounded arm. Blood from the broken glass seeps through the makeshift bandage, staining the fabric, but he barely seems to notice. His mind is elsewhere—back in that building, in the thick smoke, the fire licking up the walls and reducing everything to ash.

Across the room, Kenzo’s face fills the screen of the laptop set up on the coffee table, a dark, cold expression on his face that only appears when something goes very, very wrong. And something has. We all know it, but saying it aloud feels like bringing it further into dark reality.

“Building’s a write-off,” he says at last, voice rough, eyes downcast. “I just got off the phone with the Tokyo Fire Marshall. Total structural failure.” He sighs heavily, looking up with a tight, almost regretful expression. “There’s insurance, of course, but…” He exhales. “Yeah.”

Miyamoto lifts his eyes to me, remorseful. “I should never have pushed you to get that space,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I didn’t imagine Kolya would ever hit back with such force…”

His voice trails off.

“We should have seen it coming,” Takeshi snaps in the silence that follows, his eyes blazing. He’s pacing, radiating a fury that fills the room with dark heat. “We never hit back after they came for us at Miyamoto’s house. We let them walk away, they got bold, and now we’re dealing with this.” He turns to level a vicious look at the whole room. “Weneedto hit back this time,” he growls, his voice edged with a dangerous hunger for revenge. He turns to look at Kenzo on the laptop. “We fuckinghave to, Kenzo.”

Miyamoto nods, lips pressed to a grim line. “Kolya’s playing his hand too boldly now,” he says, looking around at each of us. “I agree with Takeshi. Time for a reprisal.”

Mal’s face appears on the laptop screen, fierce and unyielding. “I’m also with Tak,” he says, his voice sharp as a drawn blade. “This can’t go unanswered.”

I feel the eyes of the room on me, wanting to know what I think. I keep my gaze focused on Kenzo, the one who I know sees the whole board and the long game, even in a crisis moment like this. His expression is unreadable, but I see the storm in his eyes, the calculated rage simmering there.

“Kenzo,” I say cautiously, “I’m not sure we’re ready for open war in Tokyo. Not yet.”

He considers me for a moment, silent. Then he nods, his voice is laced with warning. “Unfortunately, Hana, war doesn’t look to be waiting for us to be ready,” he says softly. “And wedoneed to hit back.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Damian’s slight nod, his gaze focused and resolute.

“War isn’t something we can just dodge,” he murmurs, his voice dark and unwavering. “Not anymore.”

The words hang in the air, a heavy finality to them.

Kenzo’s attention shifts to Takeshi. “You want to take the lead on this?” he asks, his voice low.

Takeshi’s eyes flash with dangerous eagerness. “With pleasure,” he growls, a sharp edge to his voice that sends a chill through me. This isn’t just about business for him. This is a chance to make a statement.

To draw blood.

Kenzo nods, already assessing our options, the risks, the rewards.

“Get me a list of potential targets,” he growls. “Then we fire back. See how Kolya likes it.”

Damian’s grip tightens around me.

“Just so we’re clear,” he growls quietly. “You’re no longer allowed to leave my fuckingsight.”

27

DAMIAN

Kai,Takeshi and I stand in the park across the street from one of Tokyo’s most-visited hostess clubs.

Or, more accurately, whatwasone of Tokyo’s most visited hostess clubs.

Something tells me its popularity might dip a little, starting tonight. What with it beingon fucking fireand all.

I smile grimly as I watch the flames tonguing up the walls, devouring the building like it’s a snack, each floor lit up in a wave of scorching red and orange. There’s supreme satisfaction watching something that belonged to Kolya Ishida turn to ash after the shit he pulled today.

My jaw tightens.

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