Cruel Devotion (Ruthless Legacy #2)

Prologue

A Battle of Hearts

Lei

I had anticipated seeing Duck in the familiar confines of the sparring ring where Hu’s men and I had exchanged blows just this morning.

But when I arrived, no one was there.

Where the fuck is he?

I squinted against the sunlight, traced the winding path upwards with my gaze, and searched for any sign of them. Far in the distance, almost blending with the horizon, I recognized three familiar figures.

Chen, Hu, and Duck.

They were mere specks from where I stood but their silhouettes were unmistakable against the backdrop of the sprawling landscape.

Annoyed, I headed that way.

It appeared that Duck had chosen a much more formidable setting to have our conversation . He had ventured to the very zenith of Mount Utopia, a place where the air thinned and the heart raced a bit faster.

As I got closer to them, the mighty waterfall roared on their side. The rippling water crashed down and cascaded into a shimmering pool. Mist rose from its base, painting ethereal rainbows in the fleeting sunlight.

Beside that natural marvel, Hu, Chen, and Duck stood in the Arena of Echoes. An ancient sparring ring, it bore the weight of legends and history; stories of epic battles and warriors of old. It was a place where every move made echoed with the whispers of the past, where every fight was not just a physical confrontation but a dance with the spirits of warriors long gone.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had compelled Duck to choose such a sacred place for our confrontation.

It doesn’t matter where I’ll beat him. Here or there. He’s gone too far.

I hurried toward the arena, seething the whole time. There was nothing that Duck could say to keep my hands off him.

Minutes later, I could see the Arena of Echoes much better.

This sparring ring was truly unique. It was constructed from shimmering blue stones that mirrored the hues of the sky. Many of the Four Aces believed that fighting on these stones bestowed upon them unparalleled strength and wisdom.

Adjacent to the ring, was that breathtaking waterfall. Legends spoke of the water’s healing properties. Also, after an intense match, fighters often immersed their injuries in the clear waters, believing it accelerated their healing.

Guarding the Arena of Echoes, imposing statues of mythical creatures stood sentinel around its perimeter. Each one was meticulously carved from stone.

There was the formidable dragon, its scales intricately chiseled, winding its sinuous body around one corner of the arena. Deep emerald jewels made up his eyes.

Next to it, a phoenix had outstretched wings with etched feathers. Its ruby eyes glistened.

Further along, a tiger and a crane stood side by side. The tiger, with sapphire eyes crouched low, muscles tensed portraying raw power and fierce determination. The crane, with opal eyes, stood tall and elegantly, its long neck curved gracefully embodying finesse and strategy.

When I was a kid, my father and Uncle Song had explained that the ring was already present when they first came to the mountain. That fateful night, they paused to admire the ring’s beauty, set up a campfire, enjoyed a meal, and then drifted into slumber. My father later recounted a dream where a god visited him in this very spot revealing that this was a sacred place where mortals could demonstrate their valor and connect with age-old forces.

Later my father secretly told me that Uncle Song and him had paid artisans to create the arena. Yet, he knew the legend of a god-created sparring ring would be more exciting for our men to fight in than the regular story.

I got closer and remembered the first time I set foot in this arena as a kid.

The air was thin and challenging.

Training at such an altitude tested the very essence of one’s spirit, pushing the limits of their lungs and stamina.

And while many came to this very ring to assess themselves, not all left with their pride intact.

I made it to the arena and the old training ground greeted me like an old friend. My cousins and I had spent countless hours here, sparring, learning, growing.

Now, the dance had taken on a new rhythm, one of possible rivalry and new passion, as Duck and I both somehow found ourselves drawn to the same flame—Monique.

How the fuck did this happen? And why did he think that once I handcuffed her to my wrist that he could still talk to her?

Entering the arena, I slipped off my shoes then stepped onto the cool blue stones.

Anticipation tingled in the air.

Across the ring, Duck stood with his shirt and shoes discarded. His athletic build was on full display and accentuated by nothing but blue training pants. There was no hint of joy or laughter in his face—only a scowl promising imminent battle.

On the sidelines, Chen tried to dissuade us. “This does not have to be an intense sparring. We have a long day of training tomorrow, Lei. By the way, I had an extensive conversation with Duck and I have come up with several ways he can be disciplined—”

“That’s enough, Chen.” I kept my view on Duck.

Closer to the waterfall and appearing super nervous, Hu cleared his throat. “Mountain Master, I believe Duck understands the wrong of his ways.”

The respect in Hu’s voice normally would’ve persuaded me.

But then I thought of Monique’s missing panties and rage surged within me like a tempest—a maelstrom of emotions that consumed every ounce of reason. And with that, white-hot fury burned away my sanity leaving only the blistering embers of wrath.

The world around me narrowed down to shadows and colors, melding until only one figure remained in stark clarity—Duck.

I took several steps forward.

Gravel crunched beneath my feet.

I halted a mere four feet from Duck. Close enough to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes replaced almost immediately by defiance.

For what felt like an eternity, our eyes locked, and the silence between us grew, thick with unspoken words, betrayals, and a shared past.

I leaned my head to the side. “Where are Monique’s panties?”

The words hung in the air.

The silence following my question was broken by Chen’s shriek, a high-pitched sound of confusion that bounced off the mountain peaks. He stepped into the ring and furrowed his brows. “Hold on! What are we talking about?”

Hu held up his hands. “Whose panties are missing?”

My gaze remained fixed on Duck. “Did you hear me? Where are they?”

A defiant expression covered Duck’s face. “I’m not sure.”

The line of my jaw twitched.

He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “Perhaps a bird took them.”

My fists clenched at my sides. “A bird took them?”

Duck’s eyes gleamed with an unreadable emotion. “Yes, perhaps.”

And then, as if the previous statement wasn’t audacious enough, he shrugged. “It could have been a duck.”

His smirk, that cocky, infuriating smirk along with those fucking words, was the final straw.

My blood boiled.

My anger spilled over.

“Hold on!” Chen waved his hands. “How did we get on panties? And how did they go missing?”

I eyed him. “Get out of the ring.”

“What are we really talking about right now?!” Chen’s voice, usually calm and collected, now raised an octave in clear distress. “This isn’t the way.”

Hu rushed into the ring.

He positioned himself squarely in front of me acting as some sacrificial human barrier. “We need to think all of this through before we do something we can’t take back.”

His words momentarily grounded me but my focus was unyielding, fixated on Duck.

“It could have been a duck?” I tried sidestepping Chen, shifting to the left in an attempt to regain a clear view of Duck.

But Chen was right there, mirroring my movements.

His gaze flicked rapidly between Duck and me as if trying to calculate the best way to defuse the volatile situation.

“Think about it.” Chen tapped the side of his head. “Is it really Monique you’re both fighting for? Or is it the exhaustion, the pain, the trauma of everything we’ve been through this month?”

Duck sneered, shifting to his right, but then Hu joined the situation and matched Duck’s movement.

Hu held up his hands. “I really think Chen might have a point.”

“I understand how alluring it can be,” Chen continued, his voice more composed now, weaving logic into his plea. “When there’s stress, loss, and so much blood spilled, our minds. . . they sometimes latch onto something, or someone , as a distraction. It’s like. . .when you’re so hungry, even a plain loaf of bread seems like the most delicious feast. But once you eat properly, you realize it was just ordinary bread. Nothing more.”

I paused for a moment considered his words and glared. “So you’re saying Monique is just a plain loaf of bread?”

“What?” Chen blinked his eyes. “No. I’m saying that you both are mentally and emotionally over-stressed and currently. . .you two are now making Monique. . .a diversion to the real problem. . .which is grief, sadness, and loss.”

Hu remained in front of Duck, continuing to help Chen block us.

Chen sighed. “I’m saying, maybe once all this chaos with Leo is settled and things go back to normal, you both may find that what you feel now, for Monique, might not be as deep or as real as you think. Emotions can play tricks, especially when the heart is heavy.”

I put my view back on Duck. “Did you see when I put the handcuffs on her wrists?”

Duck nodded. “I was there.”

“Was that not a big enough sign to not test me when it came to her?”

Duck targeted me with an angry gaze. “Are you still in love with Chanel?”

It was like my cousin had slapped me hard in the face.

I froze.

Duck raised his eyebrows. “Or did your love for Chanel slip away the minute Monique made you moan?”

My finger shook as I stabbed it in the air. “This isn’t about my feelings for Chanel, this is about your behavior when it comes to Monique.”

Duck pointed at me. “You’re the Mountain Master—”

“Damn right I am.”

“You can have any woman you want in the East. Most Eastern women have shirtless pictures of you, hidden in their underwear drawers. Wives, fiancées, girlfriends. They’re dreaming about you. They’re willing to leave everything behind just to be with you—”

“And we’re talking about your leaving Monique alone to fight Rowe Street Mob and then you’re thinking you can turn around and take her panties—”

“You’re not even going to truly love Monique.” Duck began to pace. “If you want to put your cock in someone pick any woman in the East or go to your harem—”

“You think that you can tell me who to fuck?” I tried to maneuver around Hu and Chen. “Goddamn it! Chen! Hu! Get out of the ring! Now!”

Hu stepped back. “Mountain Master?”

“Now!”

Chen remained between Duck and me. “I would like to discuss the possibility of—”

“Now.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “Right fucking now. Duck can handle himself.”

With heavy reluctance, they began to move. Their footsteps, though hesitant, resonated on the stones.

Chen, always drawn to the wisdom and lore of the past, gravitated towards the statues of the mythical guardians. Once there, he ran his hand over the phoenix’s head and rested it there as if trying to draw strength from the statue.

Hu, on the other hand, sought solace in the natural beauty of Mount Utopia. He made his way to the waterfall. Mist rose around him, creating a hazy silhouette of his figure.

I looked back at Duck.

There we stood in the ring, ready for battle.

The two of us.

Bound by blood but divided by desire.

I could hear Chen’s voice in the back of my mind, suggesting my feelings for Monique were fleeting, a mere distraction.

But deep down, every fiber of my being screamed in protest.

What I felt for Monique wasn’t just a passing fancy.

It was profound, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

The memory of Monique’s face flashed before my eyes—her gentle grace, the soft curve of her smile, the way her eyes danced when she laughed. Those were images I alone should cherish.

And, not only had Duck failed to protect her as he’d promised, but the glint in his eye whenever he spoke her name was unmistakably clear.

He likes her even more than I thought.

Unfortunately, Duck’s fascination—this unspoken desire—treaded on grounds we both knew were sacred and forbidden.

My heart thundered in my chest as the weight of our shared blood and history pressed down on my shoulders, pulling me in two opposite directions—possession over Monique and loyalty for family.

I stared at Duck. “You disobeyed me.”

He remained silent.

“Then, instead of coming to my tent with humility. You take Monique’s panties like a pervert.”

“I had not planned on doing that but I was pissed.”

I held in my annoyance, ready to deal with the elephant in the room. “Pissed about what?”

He clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Duck.” My voice shifted to a dangerous growl. “Your audacity has exceeded the limits of our kinship.”

He sneered. “You’re using her.”

“What the fuck did you say?” Done with all the talking, I charged for him.

He dove to the side and narrowly missed my fist.

I followed him around.

My kick came within inches of his face but he just managed to twist away.

My punch, however, was right on target and sent him flying through the air with an earsplitting crash as he slammed into the unforgiving stone ground.

A cloud of dust engulfed us.

His guttural groan echoed around the area.

The dust settled only for me to step toward him with fire raging in my eyes.

Meanwhile, strong, Duck jumped back on his feet as if he had never been hit at all.

I wiped the sweat off my face. “You understand what you did wrong with Rowe Street Mob?”

He got into a fighting stance. “I disrespected you by dropping the ball on my duties and putting Monique in possible danger. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I will spend my life making up for that.”

“Then, we don’t disagree on that?”

“We don’t, Mountain Master.”

“Then, let’s get right to it.”

“Let’s.”

“When it comes to Monique, you will step aside.”

Duck glared.

"Do you understand?"