Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Asshole.
A thin trickle of blood ran down my arm, snaking all the way to the elbow.
I turned on the tap and rinsed it with warm water, before pulling a first aid kit out of my locker and bandaging myself up.
Sweaty, uneven locks of yellow-white hair fell into my eyes. Haircuts were for people with money.
Pretty soon, it would reach my butt, and Andras would curse me for my frugality, then hack at it with a rusted pair of kitchen shears.
Rinse and repeat.
I checked the time on my phone.
Eight minutes until the lesson.
Andras paid me under the table (to save himself employment taxes), but that wasn’t why I’d chosen to teach.
I only had one student, and I’d taken him on because I needed intel. In fact, this very same student once said in an interview that data is the new gold.
I couldn’t agree more.
Seven minutes left.
Enough time to reply to the string of messages my best friend from the fencing academy in Seoul had left me.
Ari:
I cannot believe you aren’t here when I’m planning a WEDDING.
The betrayal cuts so deep.
Ari:
[Christian Bale Covered in Blood, Lighting a Cigar GIF]
Ari:
When do you start work for American Psycho again?
Ari:
(They should totally reboot this as a new movie, starring the Suns.)
I grinned, my thumbs flying over the screen as I answered her.
Farrow:
Not until Monday.
Why?
Ari:
I want you to have hot, angry sex with him.
Farrow:
I really don’t think he’s interested in me in that way.
Ari:
Then, I wish you’d just let me lend you the money you need to pay for the penalty and fight your stepmom.
Ari:
Seriously, you can pay me back little by little.
You know my family can afford it.
Farrow:
I know.
But it’s my journey.
Farrow:
I really appreciate it. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did that.
Ari:
Ugh. I hate you.
Farrow:
I love you.
Ari:
Fine.
Ari:
Love you, too.
Farrow:
Say hi to Hae-in for me.
I glanced at the overhead clock suspended above the old blue tiles.
7:02 a.m.
Fuck.
With a huff, I collected my hair into a tight ponytail, gathering it all the way inside my fencing mask.
I double-checked the mirror for flyaways, tucked them each beneath the tongue, and shimmied my gloves on, collecting my gear from the floor.
The hallway had emptied in the past ten minutes. I forced myself to take leisured steps. To decelerate my heart rate.
A uniformed teen pushed open the door for me. I flexed my fingers beneath my gloves, soaking in the scene.
A dozen fencers in full gear danced on pistes planted all over the massive room. Swords clinked in a unique symphony that never failed to send goosebumps down my spine.
A week had passed since our last lesson.
Six days since the soirée.
One final Friday before my official starting date at the king’s lair.
My student stood alone on a piste, the only fencer still waiting.
Back to me. Hands clasped behind him. His face staring out the window in silence as if the lowly pupils around him didn’t deserve his attention.
The épée—his discipline and weapon of choice—complemented him. It made for the slowest, most deliberate combat. With the entire body as a target.
More importantly, the right of way did not apply to this fencing style. Therefore, of the three disciplines, this was the most savage.
Which was precisely why it suited Zachary Sun.
The man wasn’t a knight in shining armor. A hero of high morals here to save the day.
No, he was a sleek predator.
A monster who struck whomever and however he wished, so long as it got him closer to his goal.
Somehow, this ruthless predator had convinced Vera to hire three cleaners for our company before he’d left the other day.
I couldn’t believe my own ears when she sat me and my stepsisters down to break the news.
She couldn’t stop gushing about him. How he admired her business plan and how he’d offer her more ideas to expand it in due time.
“This is a new era, girls. I opened the door to the greatest business opportunity. Your mother has achieved something your father never could.”
“Jane Doe.” Zach still stared out the window, roping me back into the present. “You’re late.”
For weeks, I’d hardly spoken to him while we trained. With his shrewdness, it wouldn’t take much for him to recognize my voice.
I couldn’t risk it.
Not with so much intel about his party to collect.
Now, there was no need to preserve my cover.
I sauntered to the piste, taking position in front of him. “Sword. Mask. Posture.”
He spun on his heel and narrowed the distance, draping his mask over his godlike face and picking up his épée in the process.
I inclined my chin. “En garde.”
His stance melted into position as if he’d been born into the art of fencing, the movement so effortless, I wanted to scream.
His right foot out front, angled toward my position, knees over toes. Back straight. Always. Arms nice and loose.
Nothing to critique.
I paced on the strip, slamming heavy breaths against my metal mask. “I’m going to be ruthless today,” I warned.