Page 143 of Savage Throne
I gave Jay a respectful nod.
You’ll also die, Jay, if my father keeps fucking around.
I checked my watch. “Three minutes.”
Aunt Min stirred. “L-lei. . .I understand. However. . .”
Tonight, she wore what she used to have on when she was my father’s White Paper Fan, the person in charge of managing our legitimate financial and business decisions. It was a formal silk qipao—cerulean and embroidered with faint silver peonies.
I raised my eyebrows. “However, what?”
“Leo will be here soon with Monique. There is no need to hurt anymore people tonight. We will already have to bury Guan and Jietang—”
“Don’t forget my father. We’ll be burying him too.”
Several of the people on that side stirred.
A few more of my father’s old Blue Lanterns were near rows of men clad in blue formal wear. Soldiers, gun mules, and low-ranking assassins. My father’s loyal shadows.
They’d heard me but made sure to not look my way.
Clearly, they knew what energy I was on, this evening. I’d fucking kill them all if they even glanced at me wrong.
Until Moni was by my side, everyone could taste this blade.
“Tick Tock.” I shifted my attention to my side of the table—the new blood.
My people.
The ones that had my back and were just as ready to devour everything the old had built.
It had been a long unnecessary month of chaos, and we were all fucking tired of it.
This shit ends tonight.
Chen sat to my left. Underneath his usual composed exterior, Chen’s eyes burned with quiet anticipation. He wore his finest tonight—an ink-black suit accented by a midnight blue pocket square.
My father had finally worn Chen’s patience out to the point where even Chen was ready for his death.
Beside Chen, Jo sat rigid and unsmiling. She was clearly worried about her sister.
However, I was proud of her.
Before I killed the men earlier, I told Jo to close her eyes.
She didn’t.
Instead she watched me slice their necks and didn’t even flinch.
And now she remained quiet, watching, and probably taking notes.
Duck sat on Jo’s other side and was the only one not dressed for a formal gathering. He’d put on clothes to fight—simple blue shirt and breathable pants with combat boots.
Further down were Hu and Moni’s ladies-in-waiting. They all had on suits—perfectly tailored, dark blue with threads of silver running faintly through the fabric.
Each of them looked lethal.
I checked my watch. “One minute.”
