Page 18 of Savage Throne
God. . .just please stay watching over me.
Chapter three
A Magician’s Truth
Moni
This unknown threat of dread loomed ahead, thick and suffocating, like walking into a room without light, not knowing if there was a hole in the floor or blades in the floor or a killer waiting in the corner to grab you.
Stay calm.
The low hum of the helicopter’s engine vibrated through my body.
How are Lei and my sisters doing?
My heart ached for them but I also knew that I had to focus.
Leo was insane and always thought a good twenty steps ahead of everyone else. This was no time to wander about Lei and my sisters, I had to make sure I remained alive to see them again.
As the helicopter rose off the helipad, I leaned back in my seat and gripped the leather armrests.
This is really happening.
I thought back to that moment on the dance floor earlier tonight. Lei had pulled me close to him and wrapped his arms around me. Those big muscles flexed against my body.
The music thumped in the background but all I could feel was the electric connection between us.
When his lips brushed against mine, the world disappeared.
“I love you, Moni,” he had whispered, his voice full of emotion.
“I love you too.”
I blinked that memory away and put my focus back on Leo.
He sat beside me calmly rolling a joint with Yan’s finger on his lap. “Have you sampled a good bit of the East’s weed?”
“A little bit but mainly I’ve been busy.”
He grinned, probably knowing that he was part of why I’d been so damn busy. “Well. . .this is a new strain. They call it Tiffany. After the color.”
“Tiffany Blue?”
He nodded, his fingers expertly twisting the blue-tinged paper. “You ever hear about why they called the color that?”
“No.”
“It’s genius branding. The world’s most iconic color. Tiffany trademarked it—tied it to their name, their packaging, their products.” His voice was smooth, almost casual but there was something about the way he talked about it that made me sit up and listen. “Charles Lewis Tiffany knew what he was doing. Turquoise was popular in Victorian times—brides loved it, gifted it. He capitalized on that, turned it into a symbol of luxury.”
I imagined this Charles Lewis Tiffany sitting in his plush, mahogany office. I could see him taking a small, innocuous box and wrapping it with that distinct blue paper—a color that mirrored the endless depths of an ocean.
I could even see ripples of delight spreading across the faces of countless brides as they unwrapped their gifts.
“It’s all about branding.” Leo brought me back to reality. “You tie something to your name and it becomes part of your identity.”
I shivered at the intensity in his eyes.
There was no doubt that Leo was brilliant, but there was a ruthless edge to him too.
