Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Monty stands at the helm, a stoic thorn of power in my side. I want to hate him more than I do.
His calculating blue eyes, the same shade as Wolf’s but older, scan the horizon with the intensity of a predator. It’s a look I’ve grown accustomed to, the trait of a man who’s always alert, always hunting.
The more time I spend with him, the more I notice our family resemblances. Like the exaggerated squareness of his jaw, especially when he’s clenching it all to hell.
“Holy shit.” His head jerks up, and he points. “Look.”
I follow the line of his finger, searching the water. At first, I see nothing but calm, undulating waves.
Then something moves. A fin slices through the surface, sleek and dark against the shimmering sea. Another follows, then another, until a group of massive, sleek-bodied creatures emerges in slow, majestic succession.
“Whales?” I breathe, blinking, not believing what I’m seeing.
“A whole damn pod of them.” Monty kills the engine and darts to the starboard deck for a better view.
A few feet away, Frankie leans over the railing, smiling with a hand on her chest.
I smile with her, gobsmacked.
Their giant bodies move with an elegance that defies their size, gliding through the water like titans of the deep. Low, rumbling moans vibrate through the hull, accompanied by melodic, otherworldly calls, each note rising and falling with lyrical grace.
Kody’s wide eyes meet mine, and I feel it. The energy in the air. The music of life.
We’re no longer surviving.
We’re living.
He steps out to join her at the taffrail, his broody expression gone, revealing the boy I haven’t seen for twenty years. The boy before the trauma and abuse, who was so easily captivated by the raw beauty of nature.
My chest swells with a swarm of feelings I can scarcely name.
I don’t know how common a whale sighting is, but this feels like a gift, a glimpse into a world we were denied.
The beasts circle the yacht, exhaling with powerful whooshes that send plumes of mist into the air. The forceful sounds punctuate their softer melodies with primal power. It’s the sound of life, of strength, of creatures perfectly adapted to their watery realm.
As they return to the depths, their tails rise into the air, each one unique in pattern and shape. They arch sinuously, dark and glistening, silhouetted against the sunlight. Water cascades off the edges, sparkling like diamonds and falling into the sea with a soft splash.
When the final one dives, its fluke lingers for a moment longer, a final flourish before slipping beneath the waves. The water closes over them, leaving ripples of serenity.
I steal another glance at Kody, noting the strange upturn of his lips, the softening of his hardened features. For once, the shadows in his eyes are chased away by the simple, unadulterated joy of witnessing something so pure, so untainted by the darkness we’ve known.
Monty returns to the bridge and starts the engine, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. The peacefulness on his face smooths his skin and relaxes his features, making him appear a decade younger.
Turns out not even Monty Novak is immune to idyllic moments.
I join him, a smile tugs at my lips. “That’s something we never saw in the hills.”
“No shit.” He almost smiles back. “There’s nothing quite like it. Makes you feel small and insignificant, doesn’t it?”
“Right, because nothing says small and insignificant like standing on a billionaire’s yacht.”
He stares at me, blinks, then drops his head back and roars with laughter. He laughs so loudly that Frankie spins in our direction, her mouth hanging open.
It wasn’t that funny. More on the edge of mockery, but maybe that’s what he finds so amusing.
“You haven’t even seen all the yacht’s features.” He flips on the auto-pilot and strides out the door, motioning at us to follow. “Come on.”
21
Leonid
—
Monty leads us into the heart of his floating palace, one hand resting casually in his pocket, the other gesturing fluidly as he points out the hot tub on the sun deck, bars on every level stocked with the finest liquors, and sleeping cabins that look more like luxury hotel suites.
Not that I’ve ever seen a hotel suite.
But I get the point he’s making. He’s filthy rich, lives large, and loves to show it off.
I follow with Kody close behind, both of us silently absorbing the opulence around us.
Frankie stayed on the bridge deck to take a call from her boss, which makes me twitchy as fuck. An unreasonable reaction. I’ve never met Dr. Rhett Howell.
That’s a problem that needs to be rectified soon.
We step into the main lounge, and the air immediately changes. The space sprawls with polished wood and fine leather, dripping with wealth and impeccable taste. Soft, ambient lighting illuminates lavish sofas and armchairs. Large windows offer panoramic views of the ocean.