Page 183 of Savage Throne
It didn’t matter.
Let him feel all of those and more. Let him choke on them.
I kept my breathing even as the fingers on my free hand drummed an unassuming rhythm against the table. I could feel the heaviness of his glare pressing down on me, but I didn’t acknowledge it.
That would give him power and I had no intention of offering him even a sliver of control tonight.
My father put his attention back on the ring decorating Moni’s finger.
I leaned back in my chair, allowing the faintest smirk to tug at my lips. “You don’t seem to be enjoyingyourfeast, Father.”
His eyes snapped back to mine and the hatred there was almost beautiful in its purity. “I’m savoring every moment.”
His voice had been steady, but I knew better.
The man who had taught me to wield power like a blade, who had built an empire on fear and blood, was teetering on the edge.
And all it had taken was a single ring and a carefully orchestrated act of defiance.
“You seem distracted.” I let my words drip with mock concern. “Is there something on your mind?”
He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze once again betraying him as it flicked back to Moni’s hand.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a sharpened sword wrapped in silk. “I was just admiring your… boldness.”
“Boldness?” I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “I thought you admired boldness, Father. Isn’t that what you always said? That fortunefavorsthe bold?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Fortune alsopunishesthe reckless.”
“Is that so?” I took another sip of the wine, letting the tension simmer between us. “I suppose we’ll see.”
The orchestra shifted to another melody, something softer, more subdued.
The dancers moved in unison, their bodies gliding across the floor with an elegance that belied the storm brewing at this table.
I glanced at Moni.
She was watching the dancers, her expression serene but I could feel the subtle tension in her body. She wasn’t fooled by the spectacle. She knew as well as I did that this was a battlefield disguised as a feast.
Under the table, she brushed her thumb along my palm.
That single touch steadied me in a way nothing else could.
My father gestured to Dima and Rowe Street Mob. “I would have liked you to give me special notice for your additional guests. Luckily, we had enough food.”
“They would have never come if you had not disrespected our cookout and kidnapped a woman that they saw as family.”
“This is a Four Aces ceremony that is private and reserved for only—”
“Iam the Mountain Master.Isay whatthisis.” I pointed at him. “And your job is to simply show up. Sit the fuck down and keep your fucking mouth shut until it is time for me to kill you.”
Just like that, the energy around the table snapped to suffocating.
My words hung like a guillotine blade poised above the room, threatening to sever the fragile peace.
Uncle Song’s face paled.
Aunt Suzi dropped her fork.
