Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The mood in the car shifted from tense to light-hearted as we drove into the South’s downtown.
Strings of green twinkling lights draped lampposts. Storefronts showcased shimmering tinsel and garland.
We continued forward and I spotted the centerpiece of the South’s downtown area. A massive Christmas tree towered over the city square, almost touching the sky. It was lavishly decorated with thousands of ornaments in vibrant shades of green, blue, yellow, and red. Each one caught the sunlight and sparkled like precious jewels.
I noted the colors. “The Diamond Syndicate still runs Paradise City?”
“They do.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t set their sights on Shadow Heights and other surrounding cities.”
Anthony stopped us at a red light. “There’s been reports of major deaths in the East and West that have triggered internal fighting.”
“Hmmm.” I checked the other way.
Adjacent to the huge Christmas tree, the ice skating rink, a glistening expanse of ice, beckoned visitors to glide across its smooth surface. Laughter and music filled the air as skaters of all ages took to the ice, some gracefully pirouetting while others wobbled on unsteady legs. Small stalls bordering the rink sold hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts. Their warm, sweet aromas mingled with the crisp winter air.
Above the rink, a giant banner fluttered in the breeze and proclaimed, “Paradise City Winter Festival.”
I scanned all of the faces out there, wondering if Zuri and Carmen could also be enjoying this festive scene.
People milled around, wrapped in colorful green scarves and hats, their breath visible in the cold air as they chatted, laughed, and enjoyed the festive atmosphere. However, none were Zuri.
I looked down at the large envelope.
Should I look at the other pictures? Or. . .should I wait until I see the real thing—my daughter standing in front of me.
The light turned green.
As Anthony drove us off, he began to sing “Deck the Halls.”
An odd scene hit my head and I loudly chuckled.
He paused and eyed me. “You got a problem with that song?”
“No, I’m just wondering something.”
“What?”
“You ever sing to anyone before you kill them?”
Anthony kept his eyes on the road. “What? Like a lullaby for the doomed? Nah. I leave the singing for happier times. Keeps the balance. You know?”
I nodded, amused by the thought. “But, you could gain a reputation as the Singing Hitman.”
“No way. That would ruin my reputation.”
“Perhaps.”
Anthony checked the street’s sign. “There we go. Beacon Road.”
Tension gathered in my shoulders.
Our conversation dwindled as we left the bustling heart of the South’s downtown and entered a more exclusive area, where the buildings grew taller and more opulent.
Hmmm.
The streets here were quieter, lined with luxury boutiques and high-end cafes, each decorated with subtle yet elegant Christmas adornments.
Anthony pointed ahead. “That’s 5656.”
I gazed up at Zuri’s luxury condo building. It was a towering structure of glass and steel that gleamed in the afternoon sun. The entrance was framed by a pair of large, frosted glass doors, guarded by a doorman dressed in a sharp, tailored uniform.
Damn, Zuri. You did good for yourself.
Anthony parked. “I know you’re not big on back up, but is this a surprise visit or not?”
I gazed at the building. “Surprise.”
“What if she isn’t there?”
“I’m still going up.”
“Do you know the condo number?”
“No.”
“I can help you with the doorman. I’m good at getting information in a way that doesn’t trigger firetrucks and the police to come over.”
I turned to him. “Is that remark against how I handled the Blood Den?”
“I would have preferred less flames, less people, less sirens.”
I scowled. “I wanted Crimson Mob to know I was coming.”
“They definitely know that now.” Anthony gestured to the doorman. “Meanwhile, this guy is just doing his job. Perhaps, you let me handle the lightweight stuff.”
“I’m not going to kill the man.”
“Of course not. . .Red Reaper.”
Should I let him help me?
Yū’s words—spoken with a wisdom that came from years of experience—resonated deeply within me. For these past five years, I had built walls around myself, knowing it was the only way to survive behind bars.
Trust had been a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Or so I believed.
But now, I was outside of that prison and about to face a part of my life I had never known.
Maybe, it was time for a change.
I gritted my teeth.
The thought of letting someone in, of trusting someone other than myself, was daunting. It was like standing on the edge of a precipice, not knowing what lay on the other side.
But maybe, just maybe, it was a risk worth taking.
I deeply inhaled, and then looked at Anthony and felt a shift within me. It was subtle, yet significant—a slight easing of the tension that I had carried like armor.
I studied Anthony. “I am not a fan of betrayal.”
“I saw what you did in the Blood Den.” He placed his hand on his stomach. “Lost my appetite.”
“Can I trust you?”
“As if my life depended on it.”