Page 81 of Emperor of Havoc

“What would you call it?” My body is trembling with anger. “And I suppose that's why you had me chased?” The accusation leaves my hands before I can stop myself.

He freezes, his eyes widening.

“What?!” he barks.

I glare at him, my hands trembling as I recount the night's events, fear and anger in my eyes as I gesture.

“Someone followed me, Takeshi. Chased me through the streets. I barely got away.”

His face goes livid: his jaw clenches so tightly I can see the muscles working.

“All the more reason for me to watch over you,” he snarls.

“You mean spy,” I correct him. “All the more reason for you to spy on me.”

He steps oppressively close.

“Call it what you like. You’re mine to watch,” he growls, his low voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“I am not yours,” I motion fiercely, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts as I back away.

“Oh, princess,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “you’re so much more mine than you care to admit.”

My breath catches. For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze unrelenting and intense. Then, slowly, his brow furrows.

“Who the fuck chased you?” he demands sharply.

I hesitate, my anger ebbing slightly as the memory washes over me. “I don’t know,” I finally admit. “Nobody does.”

His eyes flash dangerously. “All the more reason not to shut me out,” he growls, his hands gripping my arms tightly.

“Why?” I sign bitterly. “You’re going to protect me from them?”

“Yes,” he snarls. He cups my face, his touch rough but grounding. “Like it or not, princess, I’m yourhusband. You’re mywife. And I won’t letanyonefucking touchmy wife.”

Before I can respond, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and slams his mouth to mine, the fierce, consuming kiss leaving neither room for argument nor room for thought.

And God help me, Imeltinto it.

When he finally pulls back, leaving me breathless and my lips swollen, he smiles darkly.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he growls, not letting go. “Enough of this ‘I don’t live here’ shit.” His eyes narrow as his lips curl darkly. “I’m moving in with you.”

24

KATARINA

The momentTakeshi moves into the Ishida house—which he does that night—the air shifts. I begrudgingly arrange a room for him at the far end of the house, near the guest quarters. It’s pristine, impersonal, and far more space than he deserves.

But when I walk into my own room that evening he’s already installed himself, his motorcycle jacket draped over the back of my chair, his bag casually tossed in the corner.

A low purring sound rips my attention to the far side of the room, where my fearsome tiger protector is sprawled on the floor, happily gnawing on a massive, bloody piece of steak.

You traitorous little shit, I think venomously as I glare at Furrcules. Then I rip my gaze to Takeshi.

“This isn’t your room,” I sign sharply.

He smirks, stepping to me withinfuriatingease. “It is now.”

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