Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
In a world of prestige and darkness, dictated by the Triad—a formidable alliance of crime families wielding power through cruelty and bloodshed—adapting is not a choice; it’s my only means of survival.
But the most formidable challenge is the man who reigns above us all.
His reputation precedes him. He is said to be ruthless and sadistic, an entity of darkness. A beautiful monster masterfully playing human.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
He’s far more terrifying.
And in the cruelest twist of fate, I’ve become his.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
The stars that once painted stories in the night had vanished. It was as if they refused to shine any light on the horrors unfolding beneath them. In their absence, the sky had turned into a canvas of black, pierced only by the distant glow of burning buildings and flares for SOS.
I stepped away from the front window, leaving the fringed curtain to fall back into place.
“Are you sure you should go out there?”
“I have to. What if she’s hurt and needs help?” I adjusted my long-sleeved tunic and lifted the hood of my cloak as I walked towards the door.
“But—”
“I’ll be fine, Effie.” The reassurance came out braver than I felt. I placed my hand on the brass knob and hesitated.
“Kore?”
I forced a smile and looked over at my sister. Her deep blue eyes appeared almost obsidian due to the lack of light in the cabin.
“Remember, if anyone tries to come through this door that isn’t me or Grandma, shoot without asking questions.”
She nodded and clutched our shotgun tightly, a look of fear and determination crossing her face. I stepped into the night just as a chilling wind blew, carrying with it the acrid scent of burning wood and the unsettling undernotes of charred flesh. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back and hide away in the illusion of safety the weathered cabin offered. Thoughts of my grandmother somewhere out here alone steadied my resolve.
The well had run dry the day prior, and our stomachs echoed the same sentiment. She had ventured out hours ago to fetch food and water. Her prolonged absence grew heavier with every passing moment. I didn’t tell Ophelia, but truthfully, I had no idea where to begin searching for her. Finding her in these conditions would be next to impossible, but I had to try. I made my way to the overgrown path, grateful the soles of my worn leather boots were sturdy enough for the uneven terrain.
The haunting orange and red glow that emanated from the distant burning structures cast flickering shadows upon the ground. It was the only light I had to guide me. Fallen leaves crunched under my feet, their brittle decay a reminder of the seasons change. Gunfire echoed like a sinister symphony, punctuated by the occasional boom and distant screams—some agonized, mostly enraged. It was the cacophony of a turf war in full swing, and every gust of chilled wind seemed to carry with it whispers of sorrow and despair, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Grandma had foretold this.
Weeks before the notorious crime families began vying for power, painting the city red and cutting down anyone that stood in their way, she’d told us great change would come in the aftermath of violence and carnage. Rarely was Grandma wrong.
I had to find her.
She was my anchor in this tempest of chaos.
The thought of her being a casualty, snuffed out in this relentless quest for dominance wasn’t a thought far from my mind, but it was one I refused to accept. So I pushed onward, each step a gamble. Sometimes my boots would land on solid ground; more often than not they'd sink into a soft mound of decaying foliage, causing me to stumble.
As I continued, the nagging voice of reason grew louder. What if she wasn't even out here? What if I’d started this search too late? I tried to silence it with logic. Grandma was strong and resilient; she knew these woods like the back of her hand. But that very familiarity could be working against me. If she had hidden herself, this was truly pointless, and I would have left my sister alone for nothing.
I could’ve brought her along, but the idea of us lost together, or worse, had me deciding not to. She's strong too, I reminded myself, clinging to the belief that Ophelia could hold down the fort until I returned. The shotgun gave her a fighting chance against any threat.
It was me, wandering these endless woods with nothing but a pocketknife, who felt utterly vulnerable. Yet, I continued, making sure I stayed as far away from the menacing glow of the city as I could manage. The depth of grandma's warnings, and the way her eyes clouded with fear whenever she spoke of that place, had always kept me rooted to our sanctuary out in the woods. Her tales painted vivid pictures of a world filled with danger, deceit, and darkness. Through her words, I could almost see the feuding families, the violence that touched every street corner, and the manipulative games.
I froze, hearing the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs. My heart raced as I tried to pinpoint which direction it was coming from. Suddenly, a man came crashing through the trees, nearly knocking me over. He was haggard, days’ worth of stubble and dirt smeared across his face, wearing a shirt stained with blood. There was an air of desperation about him that immediately put me on edge.