Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I’ve built an empire and crushed many kings, but nothing has ever undone me like her.
Nyomi Palmer is no longer a journalist investigating my world—she’s inside it. Inside me.
And I’m unraveling.
Tokyo is a battlefield.
The Fox—my father—has bared his fangs.
Blood will spill.
Secrets will surface.
And every decision I make could cost me everything I’ve fought for.
Nyomi holds the fire and the blade.
She isn’t just my obsession—she’s my Queen..
But to claim her fully, I’ll have to kneel.
Bleed.
And burn down every lie I’ve ever told. . .even the ones I told myself.
Because love isn’t the end of the war.
It’s the beginning
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Where Worship Turns to War
Kenji
I’d spent my whole life believing I didn’t need saving. Thinking that love was for fools, that softness got you killed.
But when my cock sank deep into Nyomi, I wasn’t just inside her body, I existed within the very place where she kept her fear.
Her fire.
Her surrender.
She was wet in a way that didn’t feel physical. It felt emotional, like her body had wept openly for me, called to me, prepared itself for my sensual brutality and offered something better.
Belonging.
Her pussy clung to my cock in slick, merciless perfection. But it wasn’t just pleasure, it was clarity. The sort of clarity that was so sharp it could cut through every lie I’d ever told myself.
With every thrust, the wars I’d fought fell away.
The blood I’d spilled.
The rules I’d written in corpses.
None of it meant a goddamn thing compared to the rhythm of her body dragging me deeper into her belonging.
I hadn’t known until that moment that I was starving. That all the power, money, and death hadn’t touched the ache that lived in the walls of my soul.
I hadn’t realized I was empty until I met her.
Yet, she filled me. And for a man who’d only ever known how to take, her filling my soul was the most dangerous thing of all. Because, what we shared wasn’t just sex; it was a slow evisceration.
Her pussy split me open and made erotic violence twist inside me so much that I wanted to lock her to a bed, bind her in my enemies’ blood, and make her wear my last name as a collar.
I’d ruled this Tokyo empire with a steady hand and slit throats without blinking, but inside her, I was utterly submissive.
I was her servant.
Her body didn’t make me feel powerful.
It made me feel fated.
And now?
Now I would kill any man who looked at her for too long.
And, if she ever tried to escape me, I wouldn’t chase her. I would burn down every city she ran to, turn borders to bonfires, and when there was nothing left but smoke. . .I would build her cage from ashes.
That was the fury I carried in my bones when I walked out of the room to deal with whoever had attempted to ruin my perfect date.
They dared to fucking interrupt us?
“Her moans were still trapped in my jaw, vibrating through my teeth when I clenched them.
Who will I kill tonight?
My chest was bare, skin gleaming with sweat.
I hadn’t even bothered to wipe the evidence of Nyomi’s wet pussy from my mouth. I walked out with that slickness on my lips. I wanted them to see it. To smell it. To know I’d just worshipped at my Tiger’s altar and returned as a God.
I will rip their fucking hearts out of their chests.
Her scent was still on my skin—black amber and ripe plum. Now blood would be the third note to form a holy trinity.
If my enemies had hoped to kill a man caught vulnerable, they had miscalculated. I wasn’t vulnerable. I was vibrating with bloodlust.
The door shut behind me with a whisper, and the hallway met me like a stage awaiting the final act.
I closed my eyes for one heartbeat.
Just one.
Then I opened them—and the god in me woke hungry.
I looked around the massive, long corridor.
What do we have here?
The space reeked of blood, gunpowder, and the sharp tang of betrayal.
Carnage was everywhere.
Further down and at the end of the corridor, my men—those who had lived—were forming a wide perimeter and staring at something in front of them.
They must have kept some of these bastards alive. Good.
Blood slicked the wooden floors. One of our young guards had been slumped against the corner with his throat neatly sliced. Blood spattered the walls. A few of the paintings had been shredded with blades.
Another body lay two feet away.
Not one of mine.
His suit was custom—gray wool, hand-stitched with Kyoto silk. No tattoos. No Dragon ink. No Fang or Eye marks. His boots weren’t ours either—clean, imported, too polished for a soldier meant to bleed.
But bleed he had.
Badly.
I stepped closer, tilting my head as I studied him.
The body was twisted—left leg tucked under unnaturally, neck at a sickening angle, like it had been halfway snapped but not enough to kill him right away.