Page 95 of Emperor of Lust

He chuckles nervously. “Well, here’s hoping. Cheers,” he blurts, tapping his glass to mine.

“Na zdoroviehe,” I growl, taking a sip.

“You know, Damian,” Donahue smiles. “I’m glad you broke in tonight. This could be a real opportunity for all of us. I mean, that’s the reality in Tokyo. The Yakuza runs it. You have to play with them if you want to play at all.”

I grin. “Cost of doing business.”

“Exactly!” he says. “Exactly true.”

“What did you say your organization was, Damian?” Judge Donahue asks with a polite smile. “Bratva, allied with the Mor-kai Yakuza?”

“Nikolayev Bratva,” I grunt. “My uncle Kir runs it.”

I frown to myself. Why did I volunteer that so easily?

“Yes, I’ve heard of him!” Donahue nods. “A real fighter, your uncle. Powerful.” He grins. “If he also wants to talk alliances… I’m always listening.”

“Listening to what,” I chuckle. “Rock ’n’ roll? Or are you more of a hip hop guy?”

A giggle ripples from my throat at the hilarious concept of this man listening to ultra-aggressive rap.

The frown creases my brow again.

What the fuck is so funny?—

The wine glass drops from my hand.

The room starts to swim a little, gravity encouraging me in various directions. I drop to one knee, bracing myself against the floor as I grit my teeth. I drag my swimming gaze to Donahue, brow furrowing.

“What…the…fuck…”

I fall forward, my face hitting the carpet as I roll onto my back, groaning. I can’t move—can’t lift my arms, can’t kick my legs, can barely keep my eyes open.

I am, however, dimly aware of another person entering the room.

A tall man with pulled-back silvered hair and piercing blue eyes, wearing an expensive gunmetal gray suit with a blood red and blackmontsukikimono over it.

A man with Slavic features and a Japanese last name.

Kolya Ishida.

Donahue sighs, batting his eyelashes as he leans over me. “Yes, Damian, I’m afraid the sad reality is that you have to play with the Yakuza if you want to play at all in this town.”

My vision blurs and dims, growing darker and darker…

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, “I’ve already picked a team.”

And everything fades to black.

28

HANA

By mid-morning,my thoughts are a jumble. By noon, I’m a fuckingmess.

Damian is missing.

Cold panic has settled in, making my chest tighten with every passing second. He isn’t answering any messages. There’s been no sign of him since last night, no trail to follow.

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