Page 21 of Emperor of Havoc

Where thehellis my popcorn.

Predictably, chaos erupts. Sergey roars, reaching into his waistband and yanking out a concealed snub-nosed pistol. Butinstantly, Ryu is on him, ripping the gun from his fingers, kicking his legs out, and bringing the Russian to his knees, a blade to his jugular.

“That’s enough.”

My father’s voice is neither loud nor angry. Even so, there’s a subtle power to it that silences the whole room. He stands, buttoning his jacket and shooting Sergey a cold look.

“My rules on weapons in my home, at mydinner table,” he growls darkly, “were abundantly clear, Sergey.”

“Da,but Kolya?—”

“Dinner is over.” Papa turns to Ryu. “Please escort our guest and his son out.”

Sergey shoots Papa a cold look. “Don’t be idiotic, Kolya. You need this as much as I?—”

“You have twenty seconds to get the fuck out of my house before we see exactly howlittleI need you, Sergey.”

The Russian’s nostrils flare and his face turns beet red as he swallows, nodding stiffly. “We will speak another time, then.”

“Perhaps.”

Papa nods at Ryu and three additional guards who’ve now entered the room. The four of them grab Sergey and haul a groaning Rodion off the table, escorting them both from the room.

Takeshi seems to have observed this entire thing with amusement. He arches a brow, turning to watch Papa’s men leave with Sergey and Rodion.

“Are all of your dinner parties as eventful as this, Kolya?” he asks dryly. “I feel that I’ve been missing out?—”

“I’m in no mood for any more bullshit this evening, Mr. Mori,” Papa growls quietly. “So, please, in as few words as possible, what the fuck do you want, and what thefuckis that,” he grunts, nodding at the cooler which I've realized is definitely leakingblood.

“This,” Takeshi says, his smile cold as he pats the top of the cooler, “is Avgustin Vlasov.”

Oh, shit.

Two months ago, another YakuzaOyabunloyal to the Mori-kai tried to start a war pitting the Ishida and Mori families against each other. He also bribed an ally of my father's, Avgustin Vlasov, into assisting withkidnapping me. The schemingOyabun'sidea was thathe’dpick up the pieces after said war, and rule Tokyo himself.

When thisOyabun'splan failed and he was killed, Avgustin went into hiding. Papa’s had a price on his head ever since.

My father's expression is unreadable as he rises from his seat and approaches the cooler. He opens the lid, peers inside for a long moment, and then lets it fall shut again.

“Well, Mr. Mori,” Papa growls. “It would seem you delivered. Although I did say I preferred himalive.”

Takeshi shrugs, unbothered. “If you don’t mind getting a bitgooey, find some glue and some stiff boards, and you can probably pretend.”

The air is thick with silence, the weight of Takeshi’s audacity pressing down on us. Papa's gaze is steady as he eyes our new guest.

“You’re waiting for my ask,” Takeshi murmurs, his smile widening. A flicker of darkness twinkles in his eyes.

My father’s jaw tightens. “Yes, therewasmention of a favor for whomever found this piece of shit.” He levels his gaze at Takeshi. “Fine. Speak.”

Slowly, drawing it out, Takeshi swivels his malevolent, unhinged gaze…

…Until it lands onme.

Something cold and sharp drags slowly up my spine. An uneasy familiarity sweeps over me, my stomach clenching as his gaze locks with mine. And for a moment, the room fades away. His smile sharpens, turning predatory, as he lifts a single finger to point at me.

“Her,” he growls.

My brain short-circuits.

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