Page 13 of Emperor of Havoc

My throat bobs heavily.

Snowflake

What holds true?

Kaiju

This isn’t over until I fucking say so. So meet me, or I WILL come find you.

My mind spins, a hundred scenarios flashing through my head—some pulse-poundingly arousing, others terrifying. My fingers hover over the keyboard. Before I can reply, another message appears.

Kaiju

Don’t make me wait, Snowflake.

A shiver runs through me. My thumb hovers over the screen, the temptation to say yes almost overwhelming. But then I remember the chase, the way he toyed with me like a predator savoring his prey.

Meet me, or I WILL come find you.

I quickly navigate to my profile, my eyes scanning the settings until I exhale with a rush. The location sharing is still off, like I toggled it right after I fled the Mori compound the other night.

He can’t “come find me”.

He doesn’t even know who I am.

If he knew that, he’d have never in a million years have let me go the other night. Whoever he is, he’s clearly someone high up in the Mori-kai. And I’m, well, Kolya Ishida’s daughter and only heir.

All the more reason to walk the hell away.

I don’t bother responding. I just slam the phone down on the side table next to my bed, my heart pounding.

But as I sit there, staring at the phone, his words from the other night echo in my mind, a dark promise I can’t shake.

“But don’t think for asecondthat this is over…”

4

KATARINA

The shadowsin my room stretch long and deep, swallowing the faint neon from the city outside peeking in around the edges of the blinds.

Space is a luxury in Tokyo, given the price of land in the city, and my father’s house sits on an astounding amount of it. The Ishida mansion sits on a fullacreof land, surrounded by high walls, hedges, security cameras, and heavily armed guards.

Even though the biggest city on the planet sprawls all around this house, it's quiet inside, thanks to soundproofed walls and windows.

But I’m not thinking about the expensive house, or the even more expensive land it sits on, or the sound-blocking windows.

I’m only thinking about how fucking good my fingers feels as they roll over my swollen clit.

The silence is broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as I shift on the bed. Face down, my legs spread and my hand beneath me, my heart pounds, blood thrumming through my veins with an intensity that feels extra foreign and raw.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him. But I am.

The memory of his touch and his words haunts me like a demon I can’t exorcise. I press my cheek into the pillow, my mind replaying the way he looked at me through our masks, as if he already owned me. The way he spoke, his voice dark and edged with amusement, as if my resistance was a game he’d already won.

My breath quickens. I try to tell myself it’s anger—the audaciously dominant way he’d turned me into prey with nothing more than his presence. But it’s not anger that heats my skin or sets my nerves alight. It’s something darker that I’ve spent years trying to suppress.

But here in the darkness, in the locked sanctuary of my room in my private wing of the house, I can allow those demons inside of me to roam free. I feel them slithering over my skin, teasing across my body as my toes curl against the sheets and my back arches.

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