Page 121 of Emperor of Havoc

“Smartest thing I’ve heard all night,” I mutter darkly.

I kick the door in, the wood splintering under the force. The sound echoes sharp and jarring down the corridor. We step inside with weapons drawn.

There’s a single light on in the living room, but the air inside is musty and stale.

The apartment is silent and meticulously tidy, but devoid of life. Dust is everywhere and the faint scent of decay lingers in the air. It’s as if the space itself has been suspended in time, forgotten by the world.

Kolya’s eyes dart around. “Jin?” he calls out, his voice firm but wary. No response.

I move toward the kitchen, my gun at the ready. The cabinets are fully stocked and the fridge hums quietly, but everything feels wrong. Too tidy. Staged.

“He’s not here,” I say tightly.

Kolya grits his teeth before suddenly storming through the apartment. I follow, checking each room. A bedroom with a neatly made bed. A bathroom with clean, folded towels. A study with shelves filled with books on engineering and philosophy.

No Jin.

Then I notice it: an open window in the back room, its curtains fluttering gently in the breeze. My stomach drops as I approach, my gaze going to the rope ladder leading to the courtyard below.

“Kolya.”

There’s no answer when I call his name.

“Kolya.”

I frown as I turn.

“Kolya?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I prowl back through the apartment, checking every empty room again before I step into a small office. Kolya stands frozen in the center, his gaze fixed on the far wall. When I turn to see what he’s looking at, my soul goes numb.

Holy fucking hell.

The wall is covered in photographs. Dozens of them, maybe hundreds.

Every single one is of Katarina.

Some are recent and taken from a distance while others are older, grainy images that look like they were pulled from family albums. Then there are the words, scrawled across the pictures or on the wall around them like hand-drawn frames, in bold, jagged letters:

Marianna.

Mine. Always mine.

My love.

Kolya’s face is a mask of controlled fury. I step closer, scanning the monstrous collage. The sheer intensity of the obsession is suffocating. My own anger flares, hot and blinding.

“Whatever part of this fucked-up family saga you haven’t yet told me…” I growl carefully, turning to level a cold glare at Kolya. “I need to hear it,now.”

He nods, his face grim.

“Jin was in love with Marianna,” he says bluntly. “The irony, of course, is thatIwasn’t. We married merely to increase the strength of the empire I’d just wrested from my grandfather’s control. Honestly, we could barely stand each other. But Jin?” He shakes his head slowly, still staring at the wall of madness.

“Jin always loved her. I know that’s why he left when Katarina was conceived. Why he came back when Marianna got sick. And why he lost whatever shred of control he had over his demons when she died.”

We stand there in stunned silence for another minute, staring at the collage of photos.

“Kolya,” I growl quietly. “What did your wife look like?”

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