Page 131 of Cruel Devotion

“We were thirteen.”

Chen widened his eyes. “So you were probably hisfirstkiss?”

We all watched her.

“Okay.” She backed up. “Yes. . .and we were young so we stumbled around with kissing and touching.”

I damn near growled. “Touching?”

“We were thirteen.” She held up both of her hands in front of her.

Duck smirked. “It was a hot summer.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, at the end of the summer that all ended and we remained friends.”

Chen spoke, “Why did it end?”

“Because his life became super heartbreaking and complicated which meant he needed a friend and not a kisser.”

I frowned. “How did his life get complicated?”

She blinked. “You don't know?”

We all shook our heads.

“After his father lost the Paradise City boxing championship he beat his mother to death.”

I tensed.

“A week later, someone found his father dead in an alley.” A sad expression covered her face. “My aunt and uncle took Marcelo in, and. . .he was never really the same, so. . .whenever I came for visits, we hugged a lot and I did his hair, but there was no more kissing or touching. Just the sort of love and comfort that one would have for a family member.”

Chen turned to me. “Not to weaken this heartfelt moment but that's real power. She could at least help with the new development happening with Rowe Street Mob.”

Monique looked at him. “What new development?”

Stress laced Chen's voice. “They're surrounding the mountain.”

Monique rolled her eyes. “They wouldn't be doing that right now, if I had my phone yesterday.”

Chen spoke, “She has my vote forFriend of Four Aceshowever, I would like her negotiations to be limited to Rowe Street Mob until she has fully proven that she can represent us in the best manner and truly deliver with the position.”

“That's fair.” Monique nodded. “However, I want to have the right to return to Council and expand the title after a set amount of time.”

Chen rubbed his chin. “A year should do it.”

Fuck.

Everyone went silent and turned back to me, waiting for my signal to vote.

Monique was proven to be more than just a lusty interest—soft, warm, and wet; she was becoming a force to be reckoned with, a woman capable of standing on her own in the treacherous world we inhabited.

On edge, I dove my hands in my pockets.

This realization was both a source of pride and a bitter pill to swallow. It meant letting go of some of the control I had unconsciously sought over her, and instead, supporting her rise, even if it meant watching her shine from a distance.

In that moment, I understood this relationship with Monique was at a crossroads. How I chose to act now would define not just us, but the kind of leader I wanted to be after my father's death.

I broke the silence. “Alright. Let's put it to a vote.”

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