Draco – The King Series Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
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Draco stared with those pale, tell-nothing eyes but didn’t talk.

“You said I should trust you. You said no secrets.”

“Fine.” He inhaled slowly. “Leo was fucking his client’s wife. I think he planned to leave you as soon as the house was done so it could be sold for top dollar. But then he got caught by his boss, who fired him. He didn’t want you to find out.”

I gasped and covered my mouth.

Draco’s eyes softened with pity. “I am sorry, Piper. But I heard it from him. His head, anyway.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I barked.

“It is none of my business.”

“You broke your promise to tell me everything.” I’m so done with you. Maybe my anger was misdirected, but I needed someone to be mad at, and who better than the fucking anti-Christ?

“Do not call me that.” Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t call you anything. I thought the truth,” I snapped. “And stay the fuck out of my head!”

The doors chimed and slid open.

“I will do more than that.” Draco stepped out and walked calmly away.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I ended up exploring the pool area for a while and eventually made my way to the beach, where I sat in the sand and gazed up at the early morning sky. The sunlight was just peeking over the horizon, its light bouncing off the glass-like water of the bay. So peaceful.

Meanwhile, an emotional storm had begun brewing inside. My mind and heart were filled with so many emotions that I could hardly form one coherent thought. Well, except for, Leo really cheated on me? I should’ve known. He’d been spending a lot of late nights at “the office” and then staying up late to work on the house in a sort of maniacal manner. Asshole.

The worst part was that I still hadn’t mourned the death of our relationship, and this, on top of everything else, was pushing me to the breaking point. One more straw, and this camel’s back was done. Just in time for the end of the world.

I sighed toward the pristine blue sky. Was this world really about to end? I couldn’t understand how something so big and amazing could disappear because of one man’s actions, whether it be King’s past or Draco’s future.

You just said so yourself: everything has a breaking point. Though, some called it the tipping point. The theory stated that every world-changing event—be it evolutionary, a movement, or a technological advancement—was the result of something reaching a tipping point. To get there, you first needed the proverbial final straw on the camel’s back. With it, the possibility of change transformed into reality.

A good metaphor was turning a water molecule to ice. There was only one degree of separation between the two.

Then there was the point of no return, a similar construct, but with irreversible consequences. For example, sometimes surviving a bullet wound was the difference of one drop of blood. Though no two bodies were exactly alike, the average person could lose up to two liters and survive. For some, that was the limit. Go one drop over, and they’d be toast. Maybe I could survive drowning if they got to me in four minutes. But one second longer, I was done. Point of no return.

So if the difference between change or staying the same was one piece of straw, or the difference between living and dying was one breath, one second, or one drop of blood, then why couldn’t the end of the world ride on one person?

People could be piled up on each side, fighting for annihilation or survival, but it could all hinge on one man or woman to tip the scale in the wrong direction. And once it happened, you had momentum. Unstoppable. The tipping point became the point of no return.

So maybe Draco wasn’t the anti-Christ. Maybe he wasn’t an evil man out to destroy the world, but he might be that last straw. Maybe he would do something good, one act of kindness, and it would stop our descent into chaos. Or maybe he makes a mistake, and that mistake pushes us toward the end.

I didn’t know, but I’d bet my life on one thing: Draco wasn’t evil. It was cruel and wrong to call him the anti-Christ. I’d said it out of anger.

God, I hope he knows that. Because deep down inside, I wanted him to win more than anything. It felt more important than my life right now despite hardly knowing the guy. Yet, seeing Draco triumph for the sake of him showing these fucking clowns they could not buy the world and turn it into their personal playground of depravity made me happy. I wanted him to crush these sick assholes. I’d give anything to see Draco win.

“It’s our connection. I told you,” said a deep voice.

I looked up to find Draco standing beside me.


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