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)
The news channels flicked back to the earlier footage of her racing around shooting Yan’s men.
Dear God, Moni. You fucking survived.
I watched her on the screens, her shoulders squared, her head high, her hand raised shooting bullets into heads with cold-blooded precision.
I had no fucking idea you were that good with a gun.
Thank God I hadn’t given her a gun on Mount Utopia weeks ago. She might have shot my cock off with how annoying I had been.
I swallowed.
Either way, she had proven herself stronger than any of them expected, silencing dissent with a bullet and claiming a throne drenched in blood.
I fucking love you.
My chest tightened as I thought back to this morning when Chen had first shown me the footage. He’d brought in the additional televisions, insisting I see what the world was watching.
I had made it through three seconds of her being chased by Yan’s men before my fist shattered one of the screens.
I should have been there to kill them, not you. Never you. I didn’t want you to have to pick up a gun and touch the trigger. I am supposed to be the one that protects you.
After I broke the tv, the attendants had scurried to replace it while Chen muttered something about controlling my temper.
But how could I?
How could I sit there and watch her transform into something darker, something colder, knowing it was a transformation she might never come back from?
I turned my gaze to the ceiling, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath.
Are you okay, Moni? Do you need me?
There was a philosophical conflict brewing in my mind, one I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.
Was this change in Moni for the better?
Had she stepped into her power, embracing the ruthlessness necessary to survive in our world?
Or was she now being consumed by it, bit by bit, until the woman I loved was nothing more than a memory?
I didn’t know.
What I did know was that I would love her regardless.
Whether she became a legend who ruled with an iron fist, or a woman haunted by the ghosts of what she had done, it didn’t matter.
She was mine.
She would always be mine.
And I would walk through fire for her, with her, no matter what shape her soul took.
I swallowed.
The televisions continued to play the muted footage, but I looked away, turning my attention inward.
This is why you could never be allowed to live, Father. You’re a piece of shit—a murdering bastard. And you took it too damn far, killing Yan and pushing Moni.
My thoughts drifted to the hours I’d spent today in relentless preparation. Aunt Min had been merciless, testing my reflexes, pushing my endurance. Aunt Suzi had joined in, her sharp tongue offering both corrections and encouragement as we moved through the traditional forms.
Even Hu had stepped in to spar with me, his strikes precise and brutal.
I was ready.
My body was honed, my mind sharp.
But as prepared as I was to face my father tonight, my thoughts kept circling back to Monique. Her strength, her fear, her transformation.
I clenched my fists.
A knock on the door came and then two men entered, carrying a small, unassuming box. It seemed almost underwhelming, considering the weight of what I knew it contained.
Finally. I wasn’t going to leave without this.
Seeing the little box, Chen, Duck, and Hu immediately ended their phone conversations.
Let them disapprove. Let them judge me. I don’t care.
I walked forward, took the box from the men without a word, and then quickly slipped it into my pocket.
The atmosphere in the room changed subtly.
Chen came over and pointed to my pocket. “Are you sure you want to do this, Lei? Emotions are high. You should wait.”
Duck got to his side. “I agree.”
“I don’t hear anyone talking.” Chen scowled at Duck and put space between them. “Anyway Lei. . .you don’t need to do this today. Perhaps, take the box out and save it for another time.”
“It stays in my pocket.”
“But are you truly ready?”
There was no need to answer that question. We’d argued enough about it today.
Instead, I scowled at him. “Where’s Soaring Precious?”
Chen turned to Hu, motioning with a tilt of his head. “Hu, can you tell Duck to get the sword?”
Hu frowned. “Duck is right next to you.”
Chen’s lips thinned. “Is he? I don’t see anyone of any importance or honor next to me.”
Duck rolled his eyes with an exaggerated flair. “Hu, tell my petty, pissed-off brother that I’ll get the sword. And when I bring it back, I’ll stick it right up his ass.”
I grinned.
Chen deepened his scowl.
Duck stomped off.
Hu glanced at Chen. “So, Duck said that he will get the sword and—”
“I heard,” Chen waved Hu off and returned his gaze to me. “Lei, seriously, are you sure about this?”
He gestured subtly to my pocket. “It’s a big deal. I don’t want you to regret—”