Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
But tonight. . .
Tonight was different.
God. . .
My hands trembled as they came together—fingers lacing in desperation, knuckles whitening.
I come to you. . .on my knees. . .
I bowed my head.
God, I know You’re there now… because I never would’ve met Moni if You hadn’t been up there, watching over me.
Tears slipped silently from the corners of my eyes, trailing down my cheeks.
I looked at the floor as the first tear fell to the marbled floor.
Then the second tear fell too.
And then I closed my eyes.
I’m sorry for disrespecting You long ago—for doubting You, and for not coming to You to thank You for Moni.
Prayer felt foreign in my head, yet it soothed me too.
Please, bring her back to me safe. Please don’t let my father hurt her. Please. . .I humble myself to You.
I leaned all the way forward and pressed my forehead to the floor.
Polished marble cooled against my skin, grounding me.
What would my men had said if they’d seen this?
What would the East have thought?
It didn’t matter.
And I knew, too, that a man like me—violent, cruel, too damn powerful for his own good—didn’t deserve the mercy from God that I begged for.
I knew that.
Still, I begged.
Please, God. Let her be safe. Let her feel my love even now, wherever she is. Let no matter what my father does to her. . .break her. Let it make her even stronger.
The darkness in my heart and soul deepened, thick with regret and longing.
But in my mind’s eye, there was only Moni—her smile, her laugh, her touch—and the faintest sliver of hope that somehow, some way, she would be okay.
If this is what it takes. . .if I need to fall on my knees. . .if You need anything else from me. . .I’ll do it. For her, I’ll do anything.
The tears came harder.
Sobs clawed at my throat, but I let them come.
I let them drown me.
There was no pride here, no strength, no power—only love so fierce it gouged me out from the inside.
Moni. . .
I would fight through hell and back to hold her again, but for now, I was just the broken Mountain Master on his knees, face down with prayer hands, clutching at the darkness in my soul.
And if God were listening, maybe—just maybe—He’d answer this one prayer.
A prayer made in love.
A prayer wrapped in desperate devotion.
A prayer that only a man willing to lose everything would utter.
Because without her. . .there was nothing left of me.
I must have talked to God for an hour, asking for forgiveness, begging Him some more over Moni.
Once done, I wiped my face, slowly rose, and paced my bedroom like a caged animal.
She and everyone else wanted me to go to sleep and rest, but thoughts collided in my head—plans, strategies, possibilities.
How could I reach her?
What angle hadn’t I considered?
And would I be able to kill him in this battle tomorrow?
My father was skilled and cunning but he could be stopped.
Would I be victorious?
Every move in the fight had to be flawless yet with every moment away from Moni I couldn’t even think about possible attacks and strikes.
The real battle wasn’t just out there on the streets or in the shadows where my father lurked—it was within me.
I needed to be clear-headed, focused, and relentless, but my heart kept pulling me in the opposite direction.
How was I supposed to strategize when my soul screamed for her?
How could I think straight when all I wanted was to feel Moni’s warmth against me, to hold her in my arms, to hear her voice whisper my name?
A philosophical contradiction gnawed at my mind—the need for cold logic in a moment ruled by emotion.
As the Mountain Master, I had to be calculated, detached, and ruthless.
But as a man, as Moni’s man, I couldn’t turn off the ache that consumed me.
It was maddening.
My mind demanded precision, while my heart—my traitorous heart—kept conjuring memories of her, flooding me with moments we’d shared.
Moni, I miss you so damn much. Are you safe? Are you okay? Is my father pushing you over the fucking edge?
I remembered the way she would curl against me at night, fitting perfectly into the crook of my arm, as if she’d been made to rest there. I could still hear her soft hums when she was lost in thought, the way her fingers would absentmindedly trace patterns on my skin.
Every detail about her, no matter how small, was etched into my brain.
Never will I ever take her for granted. Always I will have gratitude for the moment she is back with me.
In this short time, she had become my scope, my anchor, the only thing that kept me tethered to something real in this twisted world.
The more time passed away from Moni, the more I missed everything about her—the scent of her hair, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating, the spark in her eyes when she challenged me.