Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I hadn't even planned on going.
But since I was already searching all over Paradise City for my sister, Chen thought it would be a good idea show my face.
It was the most painful moment of the week.
The somber faces and hushed whispers.
The tears and rage on the Killer Crows' faces.
The weight of loss hanging in the air.
Standing at the graveside, I experienced an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
Chanel's grave—devoid of her body—felt like an open wound.
Then, there were the actual crows soaring above, with their incessant cawing. They swopped and circled, angrily flapping their wings. Their dark feathers damn near blacked out the graying sky.
Had their presence at the funeral been an odd occurrence?
Or was it Chanel's spiritual disapproval of my losing her body?
Regardless, all the crows’ harsh cries echoed my inner turmoil.
Even more, Dima and even that idiot Marcelo attempted to talk to me, but their words evaporated into the cold air. There was nothing they could say.
Too much grief enveloped me.
So, I had done the only thing that felt right at the moment. . .I left. I jumped on my bike. There was this need for speed, for the rush of air and the blur of my surroundings.
Chen and Duck followed.
The rest of the night my men and I scoured every inch of Paradise City and surrounding cities, stumbling upon dead ends and unyielding paths that only fueled my desperation.
But I refused to give up, pushing myself through the endless darkness with adrenaline-fueled determination and drowning in obsessive guilt the whole time.
It ended up being more than a search. It was a pursuit tinged with personal anguish, a desperate need for closure, not just for me but for all those who had known and respected Chanel.
Still. . .no sight of Yan or any of her men came.
And. . .I had missed valuable time with Monique and hated that she had been on the damn mountain all alone.
Now, as the helicopter cut through the sky, the cabin was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of a body or a soft sigh.
None of us had slept properly, grabbing moments of rest in between the hunt. My men’s loyalty was unwavering, their dedication a constant source of strength, yet I couldn't help but feel a pang of more guilt for the toll it had taken on us.
Today is about taking a damn break.
Yawning, Chen pulled out his phone and typed, no doubt texting out orders to the men who were still out on the streets searching. His usual sharp demeanor had given way to a quiet, persistent resolve.
This fucking week might give us both a heart attack.
I looked out the window, watching the clouds pass by their shapes ever-changing just like the situation we found ourselves in. The murder of Chanel, my father's betrayal, the upcoming battle, and even the relentless search for Yan.
It had all blended into a storm of emotions and actions that had left me drained.
The only silver lining to this month was Monique.
I need her so bad.
These feelings, they were unfamiliar, unsettling in their intensity. Monique had just. . .swooped into my life like a force of nature, completely unexpected, yet impossible to ignore.
And sure my father had orchestrated some of it, but what he had not done was infuse Monique with the exact sort of charisma that I never knew I needed in my life.
I should have brought her with me on the search. Monique being there would have made everything better.
But wouldn't that have been too much for her?
A man couldn't ask his new lover to search for his old obsession. I had already kidnapped Monique and beat up her cousins.
How much more bullshit would she take?
The helicopter continued its steady hum, and I couldn't shake the thought of Monique from my mind. Her fiery spirit and undeniable presence had seeped into every corner of my being, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.
While this week, this month had been an utter horrific nightmare, at least I knew what I wanted, and it was her.
But. . .Mountain Mistress? Was I ready for that?
She was different from anyone I had ever known—her spirit, her defiance, her unapologetic embrace of who she was.
She challenged me.
Questioned me.
And in doing so. . .I swore. . .she had begun to dismantle walls I didn't even realize I had built around my heart.
And it wasn't just the fact that she was gorgeous with a curvy body that I wanted to lick, suck on, and fuck with no mercy.
It wasn't just attraction, although that was undeniable.
It was more profound.
More perplexing.
Monique had stirred something in me that I struggled to comprehend.
I had spent so much of my life surrounded by the structured, often ruthless world of the Four Aces, where emotions were weaknesses to be hidden, where love was a luxury, I couldn't afford.
Where even my obsession for Chanel could not truly be openly discussed or dealt with.