Page 80 of Cruel Devotion

I slipped my thumb along her palm and gestured with my other hand for everyone to eat.

Chen remained still, watching Yan.

However, Hu and Duck who were surely hungry, returned to their bird’s nest soup, slurping and munching.

I let out a long breath. “What is this?”

Yan glared at me. “Are you going to introduce me to the woman that sits on our mother's throne? The woman who now has the keys to Lotus Blossom?”

Clearly nervous, Monique picked up her glass with the other hand and took a sip.

“There's no need.” I frowned. “If you know Father gave the property to her, then you know her name and you know her place in my life.”

“Yes. Yes.” Yan chuckled. “This Monique, is to be the next Mountain Mistress.”

My frown deepened.

Monique coughed on her champagne.

Chen stirred.

Fuck? Why did she have to say that?

Chapter thirteen

Family Drama

Lei

There was a suffocating tension at the table that silenced all and even stopped everyone from eating.

Monique put her glass down.

The air grew thick and heavy, each breath feeling like a conscious effort.

Every face at the table was a portrait of unease—eyes darted but no one made direct eye contact, and mouths were pressed into thin, tight lines.

I should have probably told Monique that she was a huge part of my father's plan.

However, so much had happened and amidst the chaos and tensions, there simply wasn't a right moment to bring it up.

But was there ever going to be arightmoment?

Besides, I still wasn't sure how I felt about it, which was why I made a point to not think about it.

All I knew was that in this short time she had inexplicably become a force in my life. The way her laughter echoed in my ears long after it had faded, the warmth of her touch lingering on my skin, the way her mere presence could calm the raging storm inside me.

It was all magnetic—the pull she had on me.

When she spoke, I found myself hanging onto every word. I'd catch myself watching her when she wasn't looking, tracing the curve of her lips, the way her eyes sparkled when she was passionate about something.

But, it wasn't love.

At least, I didn't think it was.

Love was a word that I did not throw around casually.

Yet. . .this felt different, more profound.

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