Emperor of Havoc: EPILOGUE

Three Months Later:

Impossible.

It can’t be.

I stare, my breath shallow and uneven. My legs feel like they’re going to give out from under me.

This doesn’t make sense.

My heart races, hammering against my ribs. Slowly, I stand and begin to pace the length of the bedroom in the guest house—the only livable part of the sprawling mansion formerly belonging to Miyamoto Katō that Takeshi and I now call home while the rest of the place undergoes renovations.

No. This has to be a mistake.

The sound of the front door opening pulls me from my confused thoughts. “Kat?” Takeshi calls out, his rough and deep voice instantly grounding me.

I suck in a breath, gripping the edge of the sink. “Coming!” I call back, trying to steady the quaver in my voice.

My voice.

Three months later, I’m still getting used to the concept of having a voice again, never mind the sound of it.

Personally, I think I sound ridiculous. But I don’t really care: I’m just happy to be able to speak again. And Takeshi tells me everyone thinks the sound of their own voice is weird.

He’s in the kitchen when I come downstairs, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. His knuckles are bruised, faint streaks of blood staining the skin.

“Tough day at the office?” I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

He grins. “Eh, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

I arch a quizzical brow. “I thought you were…hands-off these days.”

With the Ishida-kai and the Mori-kai now firmly allied, and almost all of Tokyo under our shared control, the days of Takeshi being a knuckle-busting enforcer are meant to be over. He’s supposed to be more of a behind-the-scenes, sit-in-an-office type now.

But I suppose that’s like telling Furrcules that he’s supposed to stay a cub forever.

You know, impossible. I still need to figure out what I’m going to do when the little fuzzball grows up.

“Tak…”

He rolls his eyes.

“I know. But trust me, this guy had it coming.”

“Uh-huh,” I say dryly. “Please, tell me more.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You know, I think I liked it better when you couldn’t talk back.”

I roll my eyes, stepping closer to swat his shoulder lightly. “Asshole.”

He laughs, pulling me into his arms. I kiss him deeply, letting the warmth of his presence steady the chaos swirling inside me. His hands tighten around my waist, and just as he starts to pull back, I hold him there, deepening the kiss even more.

When I finally pull away, his gaze is full of the familiar fire. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that all about?” he asks, giving me a lopsided grin.

“Just that the days of silence are over,” I say, my voice soft.

“I’m well aware,” he grins, leaning close, his lips by my ear. “And I do love the way you break the silence when I’ve got your legs around my waist…”

I blush fiercely, biting my lip. Part of me really wants to tell him to take me to the bedroom right now—or to the fucking kitchen counter, for that matter.

But this can’t wait.

I bite my lip, nervousness twisting my stomach. “No, I mean… It’s going to get a lot louder around here.”

He groans, leaning back against the counter. “Tell me about it. Your father, Nina, Ryu, and my family are all on their way for dinner, and I just got off the phone with Hana. Damian just landed, and you know that fucker is loud as⁠—”

“Takeshi,” I interrupt.

His eyes snap to mine.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the little plastic stick, holding it out for him to see.

His grin fades, replaced by a look of shock. “What…?” he chokes, his voice cracking.

“I’m…pregnant,” I say softly.

Even saying it out loud for the first time, it doesn’t feel real.

Or possible.

For a moment, he just stares at the test, his face a mix of disbelief and awe. Then he exhales sharply, raking his hands through his hair. “But—” He stops, his voice trembling as he takes a step closer. “How? I thought the doctors said⁠—”

“I guess they were wrong,” I choke.

“You’re sure?!” he blurts, his eyes wide.

I nod, tears pooling in my eyes. “Hundred percent.”

His hands are on me in an instant, pulling me close as his lips crash to mine. It’s not a gentle kiss; it’s fierce, raw, full of love and a thousand other unspoken emotions.

When he finally pulls back, his hands cup my face, his eyes searching mine. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

“And I love you too,” I choke out, my tears spilling over.

His forehead presses to mine, and for a moment, the world fades away. It’s just us, standing in a house that barely feels like home yet, holding onto each other like we’re the only things keeping the universe from unraveling.

He presses a hand to my stomach, his touch gentle and reverent. “Our family,” he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder. “Holy fuck, we’re going to have a family. I’m going to be a fucking father.”

He’ll be a wonderful one. And in that moment, with his arms around me and the future stretching out before us, I know that everything is going to be okay.