Emperor of Havoc: Chapter 23

Okita has the car waiting in front of the house. I smile widely as he opens the back door for me.

“How’s your father, Okita?”

He bows very low. “Recovering nicely, thank you, Katarina-sama.”

I’ve had other chauffeurs and other personal guards. Okita acts as both these days, and has done since I was sixteen. The others, both drivers and guards, were always either too stiff or way too familiar. There was one, Jason, who kept bringing me flowers every time he’d come pick me up. One time, he even brought me lingerie.

I was fourteen.

I never saw him again, and although I have no idea what happened to him, I do remember Papa being in an especially good mood the night after I told him about the mortifying lingerie incident. He had that glint in his eye he gets when he…fixes problems.

Okita is good people. He even knuckled down and learned some basic sign language within three weeks of becoming my driver. Major brownie points. I’m happy to hear his dad is doing well: he just had an operation for a prostate issue.

“And truly, thank you for the time off last month. I know he appreciated having me around.”

“Of course, Okita,” I sign. “You never even have to ask, it’s a given: family is always first.”

He smiles back, helping me into the back seat.

“Where are we headed today, Ms. Ishida?”

“Katagiri-kai headquarters. I’m sitting down with Baku Katagiri.”

Just one more ally to meet with and make sure we’re all on the same page concerning my husband—i.e., the page where no one talks to or even acknowledges him, because he’s a sneaky little fucking spy.

The tinted windows shield me from the outside world as Okita heads down the driveway toward the front gates. The guards there nod, and the gates slide open to let us drive through.

Instantly, the roar of an engine pierces the air and a dark blur cuts across the road in front of us. Okira swears, slamming on the brakes as the black motorcycle screeches to a halt directly in front of the car.

The tall, built man swings off the bike, his boots hitting the pavement with deliberate force. He yanks off his helmet, revealing wild eyes and sharp features.

Fucking Takeshi.

The guards are on him in seconds, hands hovering over their weapons. Okita steps out of the car, his expression grim. “Sir!” he growls. “You need to move⁠—”

I roll down the window just enough to stick out my hand and slap the side of the car. “It’s fine, Okita,” I sign sharply and precisely. “I can handle this.”

The guards hesitate, exchanging glances, but then step back at my command. I push the door open and step out, my face impassive despite the chaos Takeshi is clearly trying to stir.

He’s scowling at me as I walk the rest of the way down the driveway and come to a stop right in front of him, my expression utterly neutral.

“Can I help you?” I sign, my hands moving with deliberate flair.

“You know exactly what this is about,” Takeshi growls, his voice low and rough. “You’re boxing me out.”

I cock an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply, my movements crisp and dismissive.

“My code’s stopped working. I can’t get into the compound.”

“New security protocol,” I toss back. “You don’t live here, remember?”

His nostrils flare, and he takes a step closer. “You’ve got all the captains and Ishida-kai allies shutting up the second I walk into a room.”

“Yes, because they’re Ishida-kai captains and allies,” I retort. “Not yours.”

His voice drops, rumbling darkly. “I am your husband.”

“Yes—why is that, by the way?” I sign back, the fire in me stoked by his audacity.

He glares at me, the tension in his body palpable. “It’s a truce.”

“And?” I press, stepping closer.

“It helps you retain power,” he growls, his voice tight and frustrated.

“But what about you, Tak?” I counter, my hands trembling slightly as I shape the words. “What do you get out of this?”

He’s silent as he stares at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“You can’t possibly claim it’s out of the goodness of your heart,” I add, my face twisted bitterly. “Don’t even try to say you’re doing this for me. You don’t give a shit about me. I’m just an angle for you.”

His eyes flash as he comes closer, his presence suffocating. “Is that what you think?” he snarls. “You think I’d defy both your psycho father and my own family, and put the entire peace in jeopardy, for no reason?”

I hold his gaze, unblinking. Then I hurl the listening device at him. It hits his chest before clattering to the ground.

“For my own protection, I suppose?” I motion furiously, my hands shaking with rage.

He stares at the device for a moment before lifting his gaze to mine. “Yes,” he says firmly.

“Liar,” I retort.

“You don’t get to freeze me out, Katarina,” he growls, his voice a low snarl. “Not after everything.”

“You mean after the lies?” I fire back, my hands moving sharply. “The manipulation? The games?”

“You call this a game?” he demands, his face mere inches from mine. “You think I’m playing with you?”

“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 your husband. You’re my wife. And I won’t let anyone fucking touch my 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, I melt into 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.”