Felix wants the empire. He wants to rule the men. He craves the power. But I’m going to destroy everything, so there will be nothing left for him to rule.

I spot a ship in the distance. The sky is dark, and so is the ocean. The rain still falls hard, which should make it impossible to see, but I know it’s one of my yachts.

The yacht is dark, with no lights on, but I can see the outline of it through the dark. I can see the Black name etched on the side. But more than what I can see, I have a gut feeling deep inside that this is one of my yachts. And that is what guides me.

I shut off my own engine—a risky move considering I won’t be able to steer without the engines running. I’ll be at the mercy of the waves as I drift closer to the other boat. But somehow I think the ocean is on my side tonight.

The ocean and I have always gotten along—partly because I respected it and never tried to conquer it like most men do. But tonight I’m going to test that relationship more than I ever have.

The storm coming down all around me could mean my end. But I don’t fear death. I welcome it.

I descend flights of stairs to the room that should be my bedroom, although I can’t recall the last time I’ve slept. Instead, I pass out wherever I sit with a bottle of whiskey in my hand.

But tonight, I might sleep well for the first time in weeks. Because tonight, I get my first taste of revenge.

My bed is covered in weapons—guns, knives, bullets. I load up my favorite guns and ensure the knives have been sharpened.

Each time I grab for a weapon, I see the scrunchie around my wrist. The only thing left of Kai is a scrunchie she wore to remember a different man. A wooden heart I carved for her hangs from it.

The scrunchie represents so much more than my loss of Kai or Zeke. It represents everything taken from me. This scrunchie was never meant to be more than a nice gesture that Zeke gave to Kai. Something to keep her hair back while she fought. It wasn’t meant to be carried around everywhere like a memorial.

But somehow everything we have ever given each other becomes a memorial to the dead. Everyone in my life dies; that’s the one thing I know for sure. It’s why I know my enemies will die.

I feel the fabric of the scrunchie between my thumb and finger.

“I will not fail you,” I say. I won’t fail any of them.

I run up the stairs, armed with weapons and a broken heart beating for revenge.

The yacht rocks, the kind of rocking that should knock me on my ass, but my feet are too steady to let something that simple derail me.

My boots hit the open top deck, drenched in rain, the wind trying to push me back down. But I don’t move.

Do your best rain. Nothing can fucking stop me.

I peer through the rain to the other yacht. The engines are still running, but whoever is steering it has little or no experience steering a boat through weather like this.

I grin.

I have the advantage.

I walk to the edge of my yacht. I consider jumping in and swimming to the other yacht. I’m a good enough swimmer, and I feel like, for the first time ever, the world is on my side. The weather may be trying to fight against me, but it’s actually helping me. Because I can handle the weather—they can’t.

I have a different idea in mind. One that won’t involve me drinking a crap ton of saltwater.

I head back to the helm. I fire up the engines and start driving toward the doomed ship.

I never thought I would ram one of my own ships, but that seems to be the direction I’m headed in.

At least I’ll make them think I’m willing to ram my own ship.

I turn my lights on full force, ensuring they see the devil heading straight toward them. They will know I’m coming, and there is nothing they can do about it.

Faster my yacht drives toward theirs. Closer, closer. I see men huddled together on the bridge. All bickering and grabbing the helm randomly trying to fight the waves to get out of my way. But there is nothing they can do to stop me from coming for them. For every single one of them.

When I’m close enough that the collision is inevitable, I let go of the wheel and march out into the rain. So they can see clearly who their attacker is.

The impact hits.


Tags: Ella Miles Truth or Lies Dark