Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I blinked. “Someone took your sister’s dead body?”
Kashmere nodded. “We couldn’t do the Dance of the Dead or bury her properly.”
I glared at the elevator doors, ready to choke the hell out of the corpse thief. “And did you get her body back?”
“I did.” She glared at the doors. “Lei brought the body back. Fucking obsessive weirdo .”
Dane frowned. “And we have agreed to forgive Lei for the betterment of the city. Right, Kash?”
I sneered.
I don’t forgive this Lei.
Rue sighed. “Lei loved your sister and has always been loyal to the West. I have no doubt that he feels bad about taking the body, and will be on your side in this meeting.”
Kashmere rolled her eyes.
Dane bobbed his head. “Dima loved Romeo and Chanel like they were his siblings. He will also be on your side as long as you don’t disrespect him.”
Kashmere rolled her eyes again.
“All emotions have a tempo. Calm emotions like happiness are slow and deliberate.” Dane raised his hands in front of him and began moving them as he spoke. “Emotions of arousal like hostility and defensiveness are fast and confused. The pulse quickens. Thoughts race. Words fly.”
I directed my view to him, highly interested in his point.
Dane continued, “One of the best ways to change the emotion of a group is to change its tempo. As you attempt to intervene, decelerate your pace of speech.”
Kashmere sighed and looked at him. “Okay. What else?”
“You may need to raise your voice a decibel or two to be heard above the rumble. But once you’ve attracted attention, lower your voice and speed to direct the tempo.”
Interesting.
Rue pointed to Dane. “Exactly. For example, everyone is loudly arguing. You stand up and yell, ‘Hey!’ Everyone looks at you, and then what do you do?”
“I lower my voice and speak at a calm pace.” Kashmere turned back to the doors. “Got it.”
I really like this team.
The doors opened.
We stepped out and were immediately welcomed by two staff members who began to guide us through a 180-degree glass dome where a man played piano in the center.
The dome protected us from the ocean, yet provided us with a spectacular view of exotic fish, squid, and colorful coral.
The blue ocean, at least from the perspective of the dome, looked like it was constructed entirely of cans of paint, and the various exotic creatures were triggered from a talented artist’s brushes.
The restaurant’s floor was gold and silver tiles in an interlocking shell pattern that reflected light like tiny mirrors.
One large circular table stood in the very back of the dome. Three men sat at the table, and all were looking at Kashmere.
A fourth chair was empty at the table, waiting for Kashmere to take it.
Didn’t expect me? Did you?
In front of the empty chair, there were three gifts placed on the table. Each was wrapped in the color red. One was in the shape of a bottle of wine. Another was a long box. The final gift was a crystal red vase full of a dozen red roses.
Continuing forward, I scanned the rest of the space.
The leaders’ men stood several feet away from the table, giving the sense of respectful distance. But it was easy to see who belonged to who. On the left, men wore green. In the center, yellow suits decorated them. And on the right, all the men donned blue.
I smirked.
The colors will allow me to kill the right people easily.
We arrived at the table.
All three men stood for Kashmere, yet their gazes fell on me, and none of them looked friendly or welcoming. Their hostile gazes attempted to pierce me like daggers, but I had been cut many times, and never feared pain.
Bring it on, fellas. I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.
Merik placed a pie in front of each man and then hurried away.
While two of the men continued to glare at me.
Across from us, the one man in the yellow suit, looked down at the pie and grinned. His face brightened as he picked up the pie and inhaled.
This must be Dima since he’s apparently addicted to Mrs. Irene’s pies.
I assessed the North’s top gangster. He must have been three inches taller than me, and that was saying something since I usually towered over most men. Short hair. Blue-gray eyes. And he was all muscle, not one inch of fat on him. A diamond rose was on his ring finger, but I didn’t think it was an actual wedding ring. Perhaps, it was a promise to someone that marriage would soon come.
Dane brought a chair over and placed it next to the empty fourth chair.
On the left, the man in green waved his hand. A deep voice boomed from him. “Who the hell is this guy to sit at the table with us?”
And this must be Marcelo.
I assessed the gangster of the South. His green eyes matched his green suit. Long black curls fell over Marcelo’s forehead. Additionally, Marcelo was as tall as Dima, and the only jewelry he wore was the Rolex wrapped around his wrist. Which was all diamonds and white gold.