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)
It could’ve been ash for all I cared.
Around me, the feast unfolded as I had meticulously planned.
Plates of lacquered fish glistened like jewels under the pavilion’s indigo chandeliers.
Towers of sweet buns shimmered like sugared treasures.
And yet, all of it now felt like a mockery.
He ruined everything.
I scanned the table.
I’ll show him. I’ll fucking kill someone he cares about.
Chen had already moved Jo, Monique’s sister, to Rowe Street Mob’s table earlier—a decision that had initially rankled me. I’d been prepared to make an example with Jo once Lei and Monique returned—slice Jo’s throat quickly and let her blood spill across Lei’s throne. While I didn’t have a problem with that sister, T.T. was the only sister that mattered in the grander future of the Four Aces.
How did Chen know I had chosen her to die?
It would have been a single, swift death in full view of the sanctum to remind everyone that I was still the Grand Mountain Master, still the force that shaped this world.
But now, Jo was too far away.
The realization burned like acid in my throat.
Damn you, Chen. You’re starting to guess my moves?
Watching me the whole time, Chen held some meaningless conversation with Min and kept checking his watch.
Where is your fucking Mountain Master? What could he be doing? Is he trying to escape this battle? Please tell me I didn’t raise a coward.
I trailed my gaze over the men and women seated at my table, wondering who else I could kill to teach Lei a lesson when he arrived.
Hmmm.
My old guard sat rigidly on my side while my most loyal Blue Lanterns ate at tables near us.
Across the table, the new blood brimmed with youthful arrogance.
Hmmm. It appears my taking Monique away has everyone upset.
There, they lounged with a kind of defiance that set my teeth on edge. Their every movement and glance did not display submission. Instead, they damn near broadcasted their readiness to strike.
Careful, little ones.
Duck leaned back as he popped a roasted duck dumpling into his mouth. He ate with the deliberate calm of a man completely at ease. But his posture betrayed him—his back was straight, his body tilted forward ever so slightly, like a predator prepared to spring.
I recognized that stance because I had taught it to him myself when he was no more than a boy, barely strong enough to hold the practice staff I had given him.
It was a warrior's posture, a readiness for violence disguised as relaxation.
I could still hear my own voice drilling it into him; Never sit in a way you can’t fight your way out of. Every meal could be your last and every feast could turn into a battlefield.
I gritted my teeth.
Never did I imagine that one day, Duck would use those lessons against me.
The thought further gnawed at my mind as I observed him now. His fingers moved deftly, snapping another dumpling from the tray with the casual precision of a soldier loading bullets into a chamber.
And yet, his eyes flicked toward Monique’s empty throne more often than I liked.
Do you miss her presence too? Remember. You cannot have her. She is not for you.
I checked Hu who sat with this unnerving stillness. His gaze was on me as he held his chopsticks lightly.
When I quirked my brows, his fingers shifted over them with the subtle control of a man who knew exactly how to wield and throw them with lethal accuracy.
You too?
Song and I had taught him that skill, back when we believed discipline and precision were the keys to survival. We’d drilled Hu relentlessly until he could strike a sparrow with one chopstick mid-flight.
Again, I hadn’t considered then what it might feel like to sit across from Hu, knowing he could drive one of those chopsticks into my throat before I even had time to draw my blade.
Fucking ungrateful kids.
But it wasn’t Chen, Hu, or Duck that truly unsettled me.
Surprisingly, it was Monique’s ladies-in-waiting that had me on edge. Even Song monitored them.
The three gorgeous Black women sat further down the table, seemingly engrossed in their plates, their chopsticks darting between bowls of steaming noodles and lacquered fish. They laughed softly at each other’s murmured comments, presenting the picture of absolute feminine elegance.
Bullshit. I know eager killers—even the ones who smell like perfume.
The women’s energy was unmistakable. It radiated off them in waves—an aggressive hunger, not for food, but for my blood.
They weren’t just eating.
They were preparing, as though every bite was fuel for the storm they were eager to unleash. Their movements were sharp, purposeful, and their eyes scanned my side with thinly veiled hostility.
In fact, they looked at my men like predators weighing the worth of their prey.
Hmmm.
While I appreciated their fire, it also annoyed me.
This was supposed to be a feast—a moment of triumph.
Instead, it felt like the edge of a blade poised to draw my blood at the slightest provocation. And even more, I didn’t think anyone would be an easy kill to teach Lei a lesson when he returned.