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)
His voice had been steady, but I knew better.
The man who had taught me to wield power like a blade, who had built an empire on fear and blood, was teetering on the edge.
And all it had taken was a single ring and a carefully orchestrated act of defiance.
“You seem distracted.” I let my words drip with mock concern. “Is there something on your mind?”
He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze once again betraying him as it flicked back to Moni’s hand.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a sharpened sword wrapped in silk. “I was just admiring your… boldness.”
“Boldness?” I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “I thought you admired boldness, Father. Isn’t that what you always said? That fortune favors the bold?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Fortune also punishes the reckless.”
“Is that so?” I took another sip of the wine, letting the tension simmer between us. “I suppose we’ll see.”
The orchestra shifted to another melody, something softer, more subdued.
The dancers moved in unison, their bodies gliding across the floor with an elegance that belied the storm brewing at this table.
I glanced at Moni.
She was watching the dancers, her expression serene but I could feel the subtle tension in her body. She wasn’t fooled by the spectacle. She knew as well as I did that this was a battlefield disguised as a feast.
Under the table, she brushed her thumb along my palm.
That single touch steadied me in a way nothing else could.
My father gestured to Dima and Rowe Street Mob. “I would have liked you to give me special notice for your additional guests. Luckily, we had enough food.”
“They would have never come if you had not disrespected our cookout and kidnapped a woman that they saw as family.”
“This is a Four Aces ceremony that is private and reserved for only—”
“I am the Mountain Master. I say what this is.” I pointed at him. “And your job is to simply show up. Sit the fuck down and keep your fucking mouth shut until it is time for me to kill you.”
Just like that, the energy around the table snapped to suffocating.
My words hung like a guillotine blade poised above the room, threatening to sever the fragile peace.
Uncle Song’s face paled.
Aunt Suzi dropped her fork.
Aunt Min coughed as she held her teacup in mid-air.
Meanwhile, Duck got closer to the table, prepping himself to vault over the table and stop my father if necessary.
No one else moved.
Not the guards who lined the perimeter.
My father cleared his throat and picked up his glass of wine.
I curved my lips into a wicked smile. “Do you now know your place, Father?”
His grip tightened on his glass, his knuckles whitening under the strain. For a man who thrived on control, he was showing more cracks than I’d expected.
Chen adjusted his glasses again, his lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze swept the table.
My father took a measured sip of wine.
I watched the way his lips curled around the rim of the glass. The wine was his armor now, something to savor while he thought of words to cut me like knives.
When he finally set the glass back down, the sound was sharp against the polished table, like a judge’s gavel sealing a grim verdict.
Here we go.
He leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes into a venomous scowl. “You are not the Mountain Master.”
His voice went cold.
Sharp.
Each syllable became a bullet aimed directly at my chest. “You’re a boy. A reckless, spoiled little bratty boy playing dress-up on his father’s throne.”
His smirk widened and twisted with disgust. “And like any unruly, pitiful child, you’ll need to be disciplined.”
I quirked my brows.
“Perhaps I should take you over my knee, son and remind you who truly rules this table, this mountain, this family, and the East. Have some respect.”
I didn’t flinch.
I let his words settle, let them echo in the air around us, seeping into the cracks of his performance.
Then, slowly, I leaned forward, rested my elbows on the table, and met his glare head-on. “You forfeited any right to my respect long ago.”
“Lei. . .your Mountain Mistress looks too nice this evening to have your blood splattered on her crown and gown. Be mindful, Lei, and be silent. Our battle will come soon.”
“This feast is a surprise.”
My father raised his eyebrows. “A surprise?”
“I knew the food would be delicious and the decor extravagant. I guessed there would be a performance of some kind. Singers. Dancers.” I chuckled to myself. “But I never thought that I would get to see the final act of your depressing play.”
Chen whispered to Duck. “Get ready.”
I pointed at my father. “The great Grand Mountain Master has been reduced to—a desperate old fool. A pathetic man grasping at his last shred of power, yearning to still be important. Is this what you wanted everyone to see tonight?”