Emperor of Lust: Chapter 24

The blinking neon lights of Tokyo filter through the tall windows of our hotel suite. It’s dark when I walk in, the only light except for the those outside coming from Damian’s laptop.

He looks up at me when I walk in. The grin on his face fades when he sees the dark look on mine.

“Fuck,” he growls, instantly closing the laptop and coming toward me. “What happened?”

Our faces are lit in dramatic pinks and blues from the neon outside as I stand in front of him, looking up into his face, my pulse racing.

“I…” My throat bobs. “I need to tell you something.”

He frowns but says nothing, just waits for me to continue.

“There’s more to what happened that night with Josh than I’ve told you,” I whisper, unsure where to begin. The weight of it all starts to press down on me.

Damian’s eyes narrow at the mention of that asshole’s name. But there’s no judgment on his face. Just concern.

“After what Takeshi…did…” I swallow as I look down at my hands. “Josh’s parents came to the house to talk to me. Tak wasn’t home, and Mom was kind of on the way out at that point, so she wasn’t really present. So it was just me and them.”

A cold shiver runs down my spine.

“They knew,” I whisper. “About what happened. I mean, they didn’t know-know. It’s not like they had video proof or anything.” I shake my head. “But they knew, Damian. And they were both so fucking powerful. I mean, his dad’s a fucking senator. His mom’s a circuit judge. Meanwhile I was just this eighteen-year-old kid, scared of out of my mind.”

Damian’s hands take mine, squeezing them, pulling me close. But he doesn’t say a word, just lets me get it out.

“That was the first time I paid them.”

He sucks in a breath. “What?”

“They told me they knew what my brother did, and that they knew I’d helped him cover it up. They knew about Kenzo and Mal working under Sota here in Japan.” I look up at him, my face pleading. “They could have destroyed my family, Damian. At the very least, they could have sent Tak to prison. And they told me so.”

I take a shaky breath. “My mom low-key collected art. And she had this piece that she adored hanging on our living room wall—this gorgeous piece from the Dutch painter van Ravesteyn. She loved that painting, and it was worth something like half a million dollars.”

My mouth drops.

“Senator Donahue looked right at it and announced he’d be taking it home that very night, in exchange for his silence.”

Damian stiffens.

“Mom was really out of it by then, and very confused a lot of the time. I had to lie to her face and tell her the painting was away for cleaning when she noticed it was missing.”

A tear rolls down my cheek.

“I told her it was at the cleaners for a year until she died.”

My breath hitches as Damian wraps his arms silently around me.

“That’s how I got so good at laundering money.” My voice turns bitter. “I’ve been doing it for years. The painting was just the start. A few months later, they wanted more. The first time I laundered, it was to hide money I stole from my own family to pay those fuckers off.”

Damian’s expression shifts from stunned silence to fierce anger.

“Jesus, Hana,” he growls.

“For years, they kept demanding money. Sometimes Josh’s father, sometimes his mother. They threatened me. Threatened to expose Takeshi for what he did unless I kept paying them.” My throat tightens. “Not even Tak knows that part. I mean he knows they came to see me and made some veiled threats, but not about the payoffs.”

Damian is silent, his gaze unblinking. I can see his mind working as he processes what I’ve just told him.

“A year or so ago, the demands for money stopped,” I continue, my voice echoing hollowly in the stillness of the room. “I thought it was over. But now…”

“You think they might be the ones who sent the iPad?” he asks, his voice darkening.

I nod, feeling like every word further exposes the cracks in my life I’ve hidden from everyone else.

“With my family’s name linked to yours, they probably see a bigger payday. Greater leverage.” I look away, shame prickling beneath my skin. “There you have it, Damian. Now you’ve got even more on me. Might as well spill all my sins while you’re at it.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence where I expect him to say something harsh or judgmental. Instead, he pulls me to his chest, reaching down to tip up my jaw, lifting my teary gaze to his. His touch is steady, grounding, but there’s something dark and vulnerable in his eyes.

“Hana,” he growls, his voice low. “There is no more leverage.”

I laugh bitterly. “There is, Damian. You know all of it now. The shit with The Kitsune…what Tak did…this. You have all that on me now.”

A shadow crosses his face. He drops his hands from my shoulders, crossing his arms as he stares into the middle distance, his gaze tinged with a vulnerability I’ve never seen in him before.

“When I was eight,” he begins quietly, “a man came up to me on the playground where I was with my nanny. He told me he had a present for me, and he handed me an iPod.” He pauses, his jaw working as he relives the memory, each word coming out slowly, like extracting a splinter. “It was full of all this cool music, and I was ecstatic. But it was our secret, he said. I couldn’t tell anyone about it, or it would be taken away.”

My chest tightens as I listen, seeing the little boy in him.

“So I stayed quiet about it,” he continues, his voice darkening with deep bitterness. “I kept it in my jacket pocket. That night, when my parents and I went out for pizza, I brought it with me.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “Except… It wasn’t just an iPod. It was a tracker. You see, because my mom was Kir’s sister, there was always this threat hovering in the background. When we went places, it was always with an escort, using multiple cars to confuse anyone who might be trying to follow.” His eyes level with mine. “And that’s how the men who killed my parents knew exactly where we were, which car to hit. I led them right to us.”

The breath leaves my body as my face crumples. “Damian…” I choke, my heart breaking for him.

“I fucked up, Hana.” His voice cracks, his dark eyes full of raw, unhealed pain. “I got my parents killed.”

I reach for him, my hands moving to his chest, but he shakes his head, turning away.

“Damian, you were just a kid,” I whisper, my voice gentle. “How could you have known?”

His jaw clenches, anguish flashing across his face. “Our family was Bratva-connected, Hana. I should have guessed. I blinked, I let my guard down, and because of that, they died.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I’ve never told a soul about that iPod. Not even Kir.”

The silence stretches out, each second filled with the weight of our shared secrets, our broken pasts. He meets my gaze, his vulnerability raw and exposed. “There you go,” he says, his voice rough. “That’s your leverage on me. We’re even. I have no hold over you.”

I reach up, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the rough stubble against my palms.

“Yes, you do,” I whisper as I pull him down and press my lips to his, my darkness finding a strange, twisted comfort in his.

And for the first time in years… I feel free.