Emperor of Wrath: A Dark Mafia Enemies To Lovers Romance

For the two weeks following the attack at Sota Akiyama’s brownstone, we’re basically on total lockdown. Since moving to New York a few months ago, I’ve been living in Taylor’s amazing apartment, seeing as she now lives with Drazen at his ludicrously luxe place on billionaire’s row on Central Park South. Freya, meanwhile, has been living her best rock star life at various luxury hotels.

After the shooting, though, Kir shuts all that down. Frey and I move into the two-level penthouse he purchased about a year ago while he himself heads to London on business.

We’re safe there: the penthouse is a fortress, guarded by a small army of his men. But we’re basically prisoners. No going outside, aside from Kir’s patio. Even then, we’re only supposed to be out there if we notify Kir’s guards first, so they can be on extra alert.

Honestly, it’s a pain in the ass. But at least I’ve got Freya with me, and after about a week, I’m on her mostly nocturnal schedule, which I don’t really mind.

Finally, after two weeks of captivity, Kir gives the all-clear.

The sniper who shot at us hasn’t been identified. But it’s clear that he was a hired professional. The gun and the ammo were untraceable, the guy had his fingerprints chemically burned off, and even had all his real teeth replaced with implants.

In our world, those are all very clear signs of a professional hitman. A seriously expensive one, too. Him choosing suicide over being caught underscores that even further.

But honestly, Sota has plenty of enemies who could’ve wanted him—or any of us—dead. Kir probably has twice as many. So with the shooter dead, there’s sort of no other option but to go on with our lives.

That’s just the Bratva world we live in. Danger is always just…there, lurking around the corner. You just have to learn to be quick enough to see it coming before it gets you.

I haven’t told Taylor about the shooting and the subsequent lockdown, because, like I said, I want to separate my messy world from her organized one. She does, however, know I’m marrying Kenzo.

We’ve had some chats about it, and as Drazen’s wife she gets it, even if she’s not thrilled that her sister is marrying into the Yakuza to stop a war.

After the lockdown, though, and as the wedding looms closer, Taylor tells me that she’s taking me out for a bachelorette dinner.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

Not “asks if I want her to”. Tells.

Gotta love her.

The night of my reluctant bachelorette party for a wedding I don’t want actually ends up being pretty great. Taylor, as managing name partner of Crown and Black, carries some weight around this city.

She somehow gets us reservations at an incredible two Michelin star restaurant. When we enter, we’re escorted to a private VIP dining room adjacent to the kitchen itself, with a window so we can watch the chefs prepare everything in the pristine, gorgeous kitchen.

As an extra surprise, as soon as we sit down, Fumi, Kenzo’s half-sister and Taylor’s best friend, sashays in and gives me a big hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I blurt incredulously. I mean, she’s become a friend, but the wife of the Governor showing up to a bachelorette dinner for a mob wedding seems…iffy…in terms of optics.

Fumi snorts a laugh. “Uh, celebrating you?”

My face darkens. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just mean…should you be here? Like, being the governor’s wife and all?”

“Oh.” Fumi wrinkles her nose and waves me off. “Yeah, fuck that. I can definitely be here.”

“I am here for First Ladies who say ‘fuck that’!” Freya laughs as the champagne that Taylor ordered arrives.

After it’s poured, Freya makes a quite eloquent toast to me, surprisingly almost devoid of any vulgarity and swears. Fumi makes another one, which is extremely well worded, touching on finding feelings where you don’t expect to find them, discovering your other half where you least expect to…

Blah blah blah.

I mean it’s a beautiful toast, and I walk around the table to give her a hug after she finishes it. But…c’mon.

I’m not “finding feelings where I don’t expect them” with her grumpy, power-hungry dick-bag of a half-brother. Sorry, not sorry.

After the second toast, I glance at my sister, expecting one from her. She just eyes me with one of her “looks”.

“Okay, say it,” I sigh.

She shakes her head. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“That you don’t want me to marry a Yakuza asshole to stop a war?” I glance at Fumi. “No offense.”

Fumi laughs. “None taken. Kenzo is”…she clears her throat delicately…“an interesting character. We’re getting to know each other. But I mean…” She waggles her brows. “I get it, lady. He’s intense.”

“Yeah, spelled d-i-c-k-h-e-a-d,” I mutter, turning back to Taylor. “So, was that the gist of it?”

She rolls her eyes. “Words to that effect, yes.”

“Says the lady who is herself married to a mobster. I mean, pot…kettle.”

Fumi and Freya laugh as my twin gives me another look before smiling and reaching over to take my hand. “Just… Please don’t think you only have one parachute. I’ve got you, always. You know that, right?”

I do. But I’ve also spent my life with certain personal mantras. And one of the big ones, especially after he-who-will-not-be-named, is that I pay my own way.

And my own debts.

I’m sure that Taylor could get me out of this marriage by asking Drazen. He sits at the Iron Table—a sort of collective of super powerful Bratva families—along with Kir.

But this is what I have to do. I don’t like it, but Kir’s been there for me for half my adult life. He gave me a home, and a life beyond just stealing from one gig to the next. If doing this stops a war and keeps he and his people from getting embroiled in a bloodbath, then so be it.

That’s a price I’m willing to pay.

At one point, I stand to go to the ladies’ room, and Freya comes with me. I can already tell from the look in her eye and from the way she’s been uncharacteristically quiet all night that she’s got something on her mind.

“Okay, out with it,” I sigh as the door closes behind us.

She shoots me a look before she quickly glances under the stall doors to make sure we’re alone. Then she turns to me.

“Look, I didn’t want to talk about it at Kir’s place, because I’m sure it’s bugged to hell.”

My brow knits. “Okay?”

Freya swallows nervously. “The shooting…”

“Frey, it could be⁠—”

“Are we gonna talk about he-who-shall-not-be-named being at that party at some point or not?”

I go still.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, touching my arm. “I just… It’s been two weeks, and you still haven’t mentioned him being at that party to me. But I saw him.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter.

She swallows, her eyes searching mine. “It’s not,” she blurts. “Like…not at all.”

“Look, I don’t know why he was there, okay?” I say testily. “But obviously he knows Sota, or else how could he have even gotten in?”

“What’d he want?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “Okay? Can we drop this?”

Her mouth twists.

Guess that’s a no.

“Does he know about⁠—”

“The car?” I mutter. “Yeah.”

“Shit,” she blurts, twisting her hands together anxiously. “Fuck, Annika, that’s…” She looks away. “Do you think it was him behind it? The shooter, I mean.”

I shudder. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“C’mon, Anni,” she says quietly. “It has to be.”

“We don’t know that.”

She exhales, leaning against the vanity. “Think it might be time to tell Kir about all this?”

My head shakes violently. “Fuck no. No.”

This has always been Freya’s and my creed: don’t include found family in any bullshit arising from our shenanigans. That fucking car with Ulkan and he-who-will-not-be-named is squarely in “don’t involve Kir” territory.

“Then tell your soon-to-be-husband?” she whispers.

“No. Way.”

“Why the fuck not?”

I smile wryly, pulling my friend into a hug. “Because he’ll use it, Frey.”

She scowls. “Fuck. You’re probably right.”

“And besides, we don’t know it was he-who-shall-not-be-named. It could have been someone gunning for Kenzo, for all we know. I mean…” I shudder.

It would be weird for him to come proposition me at the party and then have some hired gun try to shoot me from a rooftop thirty minutes later.

“Could be Ulkan?”

Shit. I hadn’t even considered that.

The two of us exhale quietly in the silence of the bathroom.

“Fuck,” Freya moans. “I’m making this the worst bachelorette party ever, aren’t I?”

“Hey, it could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

I grin as I pat her on the shoulder and open the restroom door. “Could be you marrying the fucker.”

Again, in the end, we have an amazing time. The food is amazing, the wine is phenomenal, the company is lovely. It even turns out that the chef is a personal friend of Taylor’s, so he comes out to serve us a specially created dessert himself and talk to us about the food sourcing.

It’s an incredible night, and by the time we walk out, I’m happy enough to ignore the fact that I’m marrying Kenzo soon.

But even the amazing evening doesn’t make me forget that I kissed him.

Worse, that he kissed me back.

Double worse, the fact that when he did, I liked it.

A lot.

I don’t know what came over me that night. I mean, yes, I was drowning in the darkness that being near that motherfucker Valon always brings. And yes, Kenzo was so close to me, and I guess I just felt he was the only lifeline I could cling to, to prevent me from drowning.

But then? I don’t know. It’s been two weeks, and I still can’t figure out why I kissed him like that.

…And then spent the next two weeks dreaming about it, every night.

Wetly.

Shamefully.

Taylor and Fumi have to jet after dinner, since they’ve got important depositions in the morning. When it’s just the two of us outside the restaurant, Freya turns to me and shrugs.

“Well? What sort of trouble are we getting into now?”

“Whatever it is, can I tag along?”

We both turn at the sound of her voice, and I smile widely when I see Hana standing there. I’d invited her to dinner tonight, but she’d politely declined. And yet, here she is.

She inclines her head gracefully, as if reading my mind. “Still getting used to the whole ‘I have a half-sister’ thing,” she shrugs. “I’m better with Fumi if we’re just one-on-one. You know?”

“Well, you’re just in time for the fun part,” Freya grins. “We’re trying to figure out what trouble to get up to now.”

Kenzo’s sister grins. “I might have an idea.” She clears her throat and turns to me. “I don’t know you,” she says frankly. “I mean, no offense, and dress shopping was fun and all, but I don’t. Not really.”

I shrug. “Fair.”

“Well.” She grins slyly. “I always say there’s only one real way to get to know someone.”

Freya frowns. “Which is…?”

Hana grins. “Karaoke.”

Freya snorts a laugh. I arch a brow. “Think we can bring our shadows?” I mutter darkly, nodding my chin at the black SUV parked a half block away. Kir’s never mentioned having people tail us post-lockdown. But, come on. I’m not an idiot.

Hana shrugs. “We could.” She winks at us. “Or we could…lose them?”

Obviously, we end up going with option B. And obviously, it’s a resounding success.

An hour later, with Kir’s men successfully ditched, the three of us are at an insane Karaoke bar in K-town. I’m not drunk-drunk, because I like to hit a certain point and stop there, but I’ve had a nice buzz going since dinner, and I have to say, though I’ve never previously been a big karaoke fan, I’m having a blast.

Hana is truly amazing. Frey has gotten over her hilarious girl-crush on her, and the two of them are getting along famously as we head downstairs to the main bar and lounge area for another round of drinks.

We’re waiting for the bartender, when Freya—who is fairly tipsy—turns to us with a grin.

“Let’s play secret talents.”

Hana arches a brow. “What?”

I groan. “Frey and I play this game all the time. But it’s a little dumb because we already know each other’s secret talents.”

Hana laughs and then shakes her head. “I envy you guys. I don’t have many friends, especially not girlfriends.” She makes a face. “Way too many psycho brothers.”

“Well, here’s your invitation to play,” Freya giggles. “Spill. What’s your secret talent?”

Hana blushes as she hides her face in her hands. “Okay, it’s…dumb. And embarrassing…”

Freya hoots. “All the more reason to share, lady!”

I grin at her. “C’mon.”

Hana sighs. “Fine, fine. Okay. So… I can do a shot without using my hands.”

Freya and I erupt in laughter and calls of “prove it!”

Hana groans, hiding her face again as the bartender comes back over with our drinks. “Actually, can I get a shot of tequila with that?”

The bartender nods, grabs a shot glass, pours the tequila, and slides it in front of Hana. She glances at us, her face flushed as she cringes with embarrassment. “Okay, buckle up.”

She pulls her blonde hair back with both hands and leans forward. Freya and I watch stunned as her lips wrap around the rim of the shot glass in—not gonna lie—a pretty suggestive way. She holds back her grin as she lifts her head, jerks it back, and downs the shot, her throat working to swallow with her lips still wrapped firmly around the glass. Then she lowers the empty glass, still with just her mouth, before popping back up with a fanfare.

“Ta-da!”

Freya and I hoot and holler.

“Holy shit!” Frey laughs.

“Okay, that was⁠—”

“Shit, baby!” A guy next to us at the bar interrupts me, turning around to leer drunkenly at Hana. “That was hot.”

“Great, thanks,” Hana says curtly, ignoring him and turning back to us.

“I got something else you can hold your hair back and wrap your lips around,” the guy slurs.

“Not interested, you can fuck off now, thanks!” she says brightly, giving him the finger over her shoulder. “Okay, so that was embarrassing. Now it’s one of your⁠—”

She jumps as the guy lurches off his bar stool and grabs her hips, yanking her ass against his crotch and grinding into her. Freya and I are both about to drop his ass, when Hana herself whirls. In the blink of an eye, she’s got him on his knees, with one hand twisted awkwardly behind his back and a look of terror on his face as he screams in pain.

“Fuck you!” he blurts. “Psycho fucking bitch⁠—”

Hana’s knee jerks, slamming into his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. She yanks his arm again, jerking him to his feet before suddenly dumping him back onto his ass on the floor. Then she drops suddenly, slamming the side of her hand into his face.

The guy screams as he gets to his feet, blood streaming from his nose, and stumbles off somewhere.

“Dude, what,” Freya blurts, staring at Hana in awe.

I’ve got the same shocked look on my face as she nonchalantly hands us our drinks.

“Second secret talent: I’ve done jiu-jitsu since I was five.”

“Hell to the fucking yes, girl,” Freya grins. “That was awesome!”

Hana shrugs, still blushing a little, which is extra hilarious seeing as she’s usually so put together and in charge. She takes a sip of her cocktail before she turns to Freya.

“Okay, you’re up.”

“Deal.” Freya turns to grin at me, and I already know which party trick she’s going to pull out. “I can get into an iPhone and steal money.”

Hana frowns dubiously. “Sorry, calling bullshit. No one can crack an iPhone. The FBI has to issue a summons to Apple when they want to get into one.”

Freya grins wider. “Watch and learn, new friend.”

She turns to scan the crowd, her eyes narrowing and a grin spreading across her lips. “Him. That guy. That’s the mark,” she says casually, pointing to a total finance bro with a three-hundred-dollar haircut and a gleaming, huge Rolex on his wrist.

Hana giggles. “It can’t be done. I’m telling you.”

“Well, then you get to say I told you so,” Freya smirks.

I watch, shaking my head as my friend hikes her dress up into a scandalously short skirt. She loosens the straps, letting them fall seductively off her shoulders and letting her tits almost spill out.

Yeah, Freya can be a serious femme fatale on the rare occasions she’s not cosplaying Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

“How the fuck is she going to pull this off?”

Freya stalks off toward her mark. “Just watch,” I murmur.

So we do, sipping our drinks as Freya sweet-talks the guy across the lounge. She pulls out all the stops, fawning over the guy, touching his shoulder and his chest, whispering in his ear.

In less than a fucking minute, he’s completely wrapped around her finger.

That’s when she strikes.

He hands her his phone, unlocked, presumably so she can give him her number. The guy turns to grin at his buddies while Freya smiles and taps away on his phone.

Immediately, her phone, which she’s left on the bar next to us, dings. Hana and I glance over, and I crack up when I see a Venmo notification that “Jack Myers” has just sent Freya five grand.

Hana explodes with laughter, covering her mouth as Freya slips the phone back into the guy’s hand, blows him a kiss, and sashays back to us.

“What the actual fuck,” Hana blurts as Freya rejoins us. “That was insane!”

“Okay, I don’t have to actually hack the iPhone,” Freya grins. She taps her head. “Just social engineering, baby.”

“I stand corrected,” Hana laughs. “You did tell me so.”

Freya winks. “Drink up, ladies. We should probably get out of here, seeing how I just committed a felony.”

We spill out into the streets of K-town laughing our asses off. I’m still just pleasantly buzzed, but the other two are definitely well into drunk territory, and it’s hilarious.

“Wait-wait-wait,” Hana says, shaking her head. “We didn’t do your special talent!”

I wave her off, shaking my head. “Nah, I’m…whatever.”

“Bullshit,” Freya snickers. “She’s a master thief.”

Hana eyes me. “So I’ve heard, to be honest. Like…how master are we talking?”

“The best!” Freya shrieks. “Absolutely the best.”

I roll my eyes. “Stop. Let’s get a cab.”

They ignore me.

“Like jewelry and shit?” Hana asks.

“And paintings, and cars,” Freya giggles.

“Prove it.”

The three of us go quiet. Hana smiles coyly as she glances at me. “C’mon, master thief. Prove it.”

I shake my head. “Come on. Let’s go find food somewhere⁠—”

“Prove it, Anni,” Freya giggles, egging me on.

God damn, she knows how to push my buttons.

Fuck it.

I’m just buzzed enough to decide bad ideas are okay ideas. So when I turn and my eyes land on the Bugatti parked down the street, my lips curl dangerously.

Hana sees where I’m looking and goes still.

“No fucking way,” she grins, a little nervously, turning back to me.

I just arch my brows as I glance at them, my pulse racing with the thrill of the impending take. “In or out?”

“Oh shiiit,” Hana laughs. “You don’t fuck around, do you?”

“I’m just saying out loud that this is a super bad idea,” Freya giggles. “But fuck yeah, I’m in. Ride or die, bitch.”

I turn to grin at Kenzo’s sister. “Hana?”

She smirks as she arches a perfect brow at me. “I’m going to enjoy being related to you, aren’t I?”

“If I don’t get you killed? Probably.”

She grins. “Let’s fucking do this.”

It takes me eighty-two seconds to get the Bugatti unlocked and the engine purring.

Damn, I’m rusty.

Ten seconds later, the music is blaring, we’re all losing our shit, and I’m gunning the sports car through the streets of Lower Manhattan.

I turn and groan as Freya lights a joint next to me.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

She grins at me. “What? I have a medical card, and anyway, it’s legal now.”

“Not while you’re in a car, it’s not. Ever heard of just breaking one law at a time?”

“Nope. Hana?” Freya passes the joint into the backseat, and Hana takes a puff.

That’s when we hear the sirens, and see the flashing lights hit the back of our car.

…The stolen car, with someone smoking weed in it. Plus, I’m not drunk or anything, but the legal limit in New York is like half a drink, so I’m definitely over.

“Shit,” Freya hisses next to me, sobering up a bit pretty instantly.

“Fuck!” Hana blurts.

I glance at Freya, she glances at me. And I’m reminded why it is we’ve been best friends for the last eleven years through all sorts of shit.

“How far are we willing to take this?” I say tersely to the whole car.

Hana stares at me in the rear-view window. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Well, it’s probably best if we don’t get pulled over in a stolen car. How far⁠—”

“Ride or die,” Freya mutters next to me, her throat working. “As far as it takes.”

Hana looks grim as she reaches into her bag and pulls out a freaking gun.

“Yeah, so, Kenzo likes me to carry this, but I don’t exactly have a permit for it. So…”

“So that just made our decision much easier,” I announce, my hand tightening on the wheel as I reach for the shifter. I glance back at Hana through the mirror again. “Your brother is not going to be happy with me, though.”

I slam the pedal down. All three of us suck in our breath as the car speeds forward into the night.