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)
My father subtly pushed his chair an inch back.
I doubt most had even noticed.
That’s right. Come over here.
I leaned my head to the side. “You want to discipline me? You want to preserve your great legacy?”
His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking like a clock counting down to the inevitable explosion.
“Then, don’t just sit there like a weak old man.” I lifted my glass of wine. “Fucking take your legacy back from me.”
His hands flexed and I saw it—the split-second decision, the moment he finally snapped and charged to attack me.
Chapter twenty-eight
Blood Wine
Lei
He moved faster than I expected, a blade appearing in his hand like magic.
The space erupted in chaos.
Aunt Min screamed.
The dancers fled.
Guests scrambled for cover, overturning chairs.
Chen leapt to his feet, shouting orders I couldn’t hear over the noise of shrieks and crashing plates.
And Moni. . .
“Lei, be careful!” she cried out as Duck and Thandi yanked her from her chair and dragged her away.
Good. She’s safe.
Because now it was just him and me.
Everything happened so fast, I wasn’t even sure everyone else could make out our movements.
My father launched himself over the table like a feral beast. His blade cut through the air, and it was a blur of silver aimed at my throat.
Fast, I saw the glint of the blade, felt the sharp rush of displaced air.
Shit.
Still holding the glass of wine, I twisted out of my chair, spun to my feet, slid to the side, and intentionally moved with this lazy ease as if this were just another sparring session and my father was nothing more than a practice dummy.
It’s really happening.
The force of his momentum sent him crashing down onto the table.
The heavy wood creaked under the impact.
Plates and glasses scattered.
People screamed.
“Don’t you dare hurt him!” Moni’s scream pierced through the chaos. “I will fucking kill you, Leo!”
I didn’t look her way.
I couldn’t.
Duck and Thandi had already pulled her away, ensuring she was clear of our violence.
Focus.
I casually took another sip of wine.
My father recovered instantly, jumping up off the table, landing three feet away, twisting on his heel, and lunging at me again.
Fast, his blade came down in a vicious arc, aiming for my head, but I sidestepped with an almost casual grace, letting the wine swirl lazily in my glass.
“Getting sloppy, Father.” I taunted.
He came again.
The blade hissed through the air, narrowly missing my shoulder, and he spun to the other side fueled by fury.
I was behind him, before he could realize it.
Growling, he charged, his strikes relentless, his blade a whirlwind of steel that could have carved the average man to ribbons in seconds.
Still, I danced away from each one.
He slashed at my chest—I stepped back.
He thrust for my stomach—I twisted, letting the blade pass within inches of my skin.
Whenever I could, I sipped more of my wine.
He lunged again, this time aiming for my ribs.
I spun out of his reach, twisting with a dancer’s precision.
Then, finally he swung again.
Holy fuck!
The blade whistled toward my throat, and I ducked and darted a few feet to the right, feeling the heat of its edge graze the air above me.
He’d been prepared for that.
Another swing.
This one was wilder, angrier, the blade’s edge aimed to cleave me in two.
I leaned back, letting the attack pass harmlessly, then finished the last sip of my wine.
That was too close.
A crowd had gathered around us.
I wasn’t stupid enough to look at who was there. All my attention had to be on him and staying alive, but at least I’d gotten my father to make the first move.
Now, let’s see if this tactic works.
Within seconds, I slammed the wine glass into the edge of the table, shattering it into jagged shards.
His blade came at me again, but this time, I didn’t dodge.
I stepped into the attack, my arm coming up to deflect his strike.
Fuck!
The blade sliced into my flesh, but that was the point. It was the distraction.
With my other hand, I drove the jagged stem of the glass toward his neck.
There we go!
He caught my wrist mid-thrust, so quick I wasn’t sure if his hand hadn’t been attached to the glass the entire time.
Shit.
I spun away from the blade.
He predicted my direction and slammed his other hand into my neck. The force was brutal, sending me staggering back.
Air rushed from my lungs.
Pain bloomed in my throat—sharp and hot—but I didn’t let it slow me down.
I recovered quickly, twisting out of his reach as he advanced again. His blade gleamed in the low light, slick with my blood.
He missed.
I jumped several feet back.
He just remained still and watched me.
What’s your next move?
Adrenaline coursed through my veins making every second stretch into an eternity.
Then, he moved.
But he didn’t come my way.
Instead, he leapt into the air with a speed and agility that contradicted his age. His form was a blur as he crossed the table, going back to his side.