Page 102 of Emperor of Havoc

I stand, my mind racing as I take in the rest of the room: the bodies. The blood. The sheer chaos.

So—this is what being in charge feels like.

I start barking orders to the remaining Ishida-kai men. “Find out who’s still breathing,” I growl. “And someone get a fucking cleanup crew in here.”

My chest feels tight as I glance toward the warehouse doors. Somewhere out there, Katarina is in the hands of men who would love to see her broken—or worse. The thought sends a cold, murderous fury through me.

Just then, my phone buzzes.

It’s Freya.

“Got a hit on the plate,” she says without preamble.

“Where?” I demand.

“On its way to Chiba. I did some digging: there’s a warehouse there owned by a Vorobev shell company. Looks like they’ve used it before as a stopgap safe house. Sending you the address now.”

“Thanks, Freya,” I growl curtly.

“Tak,” she says before I can end the call. “Be careful.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I just turn to the nearest man and relay the information. “Let's go,” I bark, fury roaring through me. “Now.”

I mount my bike again. Chiba is less than an hour from Tokyo. But they’ve got a head start.

And God only knows what those Russian motherfuckers might do to her before I can get there.

I don’t care how many men Sergey has. I don’t care what kind of trap they might have waiting for me.

Iwillfind Katarina. And I’ll eradicate anyone who’s harmed a hair on her head.

31

KATARINA

The air isdamp and thick as it clings to the back of my throat, smelling of motor oil and stale cigarettes.

I drop my head back against the cold concrete wall, trying to steady my breathing. The manacle around one of my ankles and one of my wrists—so tight that there’s no chance of slipping out of them—bite into my skin, the chains rattling faintly whenever I shift.

The room is small, cramped, and reeks of death and rot. There's a rusty metal table in the middle, over a grimy drain in the floor. The three of us are all chained to the walls.

Across the room, Nina huddles on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her wide, tearful eyes dart around the windowless space like a cornered animal. She fidgets with the hem of her blouse, trembling, her movements frantic and uncoordinated.

My heart breaks for her.

Nina also grew up in the mafia world, to a mafia family. But we’re…different. I love her to death, but she’s not built to deal with a situation like this.

She needs to get out of here before she crumbles.

I whistle sharply to get her attention.

She lifts her gaze to mine. Her eyes are unfocused, swimming with fear.

“It’s going to be okay,” I lie, my hands moving slowly, deliberately.

Her lip quivers. “They’re going to kill us,” she whispers, so quietly I can barely hear.

“No,” I sign again, shaking my head, my movements surer. “They’re not.”

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