The Tyrant Came

Aika Kurosaki was a tall woman in her early forties. With ever-present red lips and nails, a pricey business suit that should cost a normal worker their whole salary, and a perfectly coifed hair that reeked of elegance and pricey products.

In other words, Aika Kurosaki was the epitome of a badass businesswoman, who has got the devious personality to go with it.

She strode into the apartment just as Iori was about to have her glass of wine after handing Jun his drink. The sip she took almost went down the wrong way as Kurosaki-san eyed her and the cup in her hands with a cool gaze.

“Get me some of that,” she ordered, “And let’s get this meeting started. I had to skip my manicure appointment in order to make time for this, and I’m not in a very good mood.” She said as she put her designer bag on the large dining table and took a seat at the head crossing her legs, pursing her lips, and raising her eyebrows at them as if silently asking why they weren’t tri