Emperor of Havoc: Chapter 21

Hana’s laughter follows me as I stalk into the private lounge.

I have no idea what the fuck this room was supposed to be before we bought the Tokyo mansion. But it looks exactly like a VIP room in some gaudy club.

It’s all sleek leather and steel, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Tokyo’s glimmering skyline. It’s a room designed to make anyone sitting in it feel powerful, but right now, it feels stifling. Too bright and exposed.

Hana, of course, is unfazed. She’s sprawled across one of the couches, barefoot and smug, her long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders as she takes another sip of tea.

“So,” she begins, her tone girlish and teasing. “How’s the happy couple?”

My glare only makes her smirk widen. “Don’t start.”

“Start what? I’m just making conversation.” She sits up, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “But since you’re being so grouchy, I’m going to guess things with your little princess are…complicated?”

“Hana…” I warn darkly.

She holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No more teasing. But seriously, Takeshi, you’ve got…a look.”

“A look?” I echo, folding my arms across my chest.

“Yeah, like you’re…I don’t know…smitten or something.”

I straighten, my body going rigid as I fix her with a frigid stare. “I am not, never have been, nor will I ever be smitten with anything.”

She starts to open her mouth, but I stop her with a raised finger.

“All right, maybe a Kawasaki H2R.” I whistle low. “Yeah, I’d definitely be smitten with one of those sexy motherfuckers.”

Hana rolls her eyes. “So what are we calling it, then? Obsession? Lust? Or is it something deeper?”

“We still talking about the Kawasaki?”

“Ass. You know who I’m talking about.”

I don’t answer. It’s all the confirmation she needs. She leans back, crossing her legs and studying me like I’m a puzzle she’s determined to solve.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s not like you.”

“But the cavalier, emotionally walled-off charm interwoven with sarcasm is painfully on-brand,” I throw back. “So, we can go ahead and drop it.”

She doesn’t. Hana never drops anything. She’s relentless, a trait we share, although she wields it with much more finesse. “Why her?” she asks softly, the teasing edge in her voice gone.

I grit my teeth, my mind racing with a thousand answers, none of which I’m willing to say out loud. The truth is, I don’t know why. Not in a way that makes sense, not really.

I turn back to her, my expression carefully neutral. “It’s not about her. It’s about strategy.”

“You keep saying that, and it sounds lamer and lamer every time. Why aren’t you telling me the truth?”

“Believe what you like,” I say sharply. “This is about our family and empire, and securing our position in Tokyo. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, there it is,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Somehow, it managed to sound even lamer that last time.”

I hate that she’s right. Because as much as I want to believe this is merely about strategy…about power and revenge and everything else that drives me…there’s a dark, twisted part of me that knows it’s more than that. Katarina isn’t just a chess piece. She’s a storm that’s threatening to overturn the entire goddamn board.

I sink into one of the armchairs, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.

“It’s not that simple,” I admit, my voice low.

Hana tips her head, her expression softening slightly. “It never is with you.”

I glance up at her, my lips twisting. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not necessarily,” she says. “But it’s dangerous. For you. For her.”

I don’t respond, just let the silence stretch between us, my thoughts poking around the dark corners of my mind where I keep the things I’d rather not examine too closely. My obsession with Katarina is one of those. It’s a fire that burns brighter than anything I’ve ever felt, and I don’t know how to control it.

It’s not just about wanting her. It’s about needing her. Her fire, her defiance, her darkness. She’s everything I’ve ever craved, and everything I’ve ever feared, and I hate her for it almost as much as I want her because of it.

Hana lets out a soft sigh. “Just… Be careful, Tak. Whatever this is, don’t let it consume you.”

I look up at her, my expression hard. “I don’t get consumed. I do the consuming.”

Later, after Hana leaves to FaceTime Damian in New York, I stand by the window, whiskey in hand, my mind drifting back to Katarina and the way she looked at me that night in the mansion, her eyes ablaze with a mix of fear and defiance.

I’ve never met anyone like her. And I hate that she’s under my skin in a way I can’t shake. She’s dangerous, not just because of who she is, but because of how she makes me feel.

No matter how I try to push her out of my mind, she’s always there. In the shadows, in the silence, in the dark corners of my soul where I keep the things I don’t want to face.

She’s a mirror, reflecting all the shit I’ve tried to bury.

And that terrifies me.