King of Sloth (Kings of Sin #4) by Ana Huang

The days after that had been filled with phone calls, meetings, paperwork, and a million other things I didn’t want to do. I’d tried to contact Vuk but couldn’t get through, and I’d spent Christmas at home, torn between calling Sloane and avoiding our inevitable confrontation like a coward.

The coward won out.

I wasn’t proud of it, but our trial dating period ended soon, and I didn’t need a genius-level IQ to know I’d blown it.

As long as we didn’t talk, I could live in denial and pretend we were going through a minor hiccup, which was how I ended up at Valhalla’s bar the Sunday after Christmas, drowning my sorrows with Lagavulin.

I finished my drink and motioned the bartender for another one. He slid a fresh glass of whisky across the counter as someone settled on the stool next to mine.

“Save it,” I said without turning my head.

“This is quite sad.” Kai ignored my preemptive dismissal, his tone mild. “Have you considered other methods of coping besides drinking by yourself at”—he checked his watch—“three in the afternoon?”

“I’m not in the mood for your judgment, and I’m not the only one sitting at the bar at three in the afternoon.” I cast a pointed glance in his direction. “Aren’t you supposed to be in London right now?”

“We flew back early at Isabella’s insistence.” A delicate pause. “Apparently, one of her friends needs ‘major cheering up.’ Her words.”

It was obvious who she’d meant.

My gut twisted at the indirect mention of Sloane, and it took everything in me not to interrogate Kai.

Has Isabella talked to Sloane already? What did she say? How is she doing? How much does she hate me right now?

“Her friend isn’t the only one.” Kai nodded his thanks when the bartender brought him a strawberry gin and tonic. He had a strange affinity for that particular cocktail. “I’m sorry about the fire. Truly.” He sounded sincere, which made it worse.

The past week hadn’t done much to ease my guilt, and I felt like I didn’t deserve people’s sympathy.

“Have you talked to Alex yet?” Kai asked.

I grimaced. “Not yet. We’re meeting tomorrow.”

I wasn’t looking forward to it. Alex’s assistant had scheduled the meeting, so I didn’t know his thoughts regarding the fire in his building, but I imagined they weren’t pleasant.

“I haven’t talked to Markovic since the fire either.” I flashed back to the wild look in Vuk’s eyes and the old burn scars around his neck. “He disappeared when we got out of the vault. Do you think…?”

“The Serb does what he does,” Kai said. Most people referred to Vuk as the Serb, per his preference, but I couldn’t shake the habit of calling people by their, well, actual name. “No one knows what goes through his head, but if he hasn’t dissolved your partnership yet, I assume everything’s fine.”

My shoulders tensed.

Kai’s eyes sharpened behind his glasses. “Is everything fine?” “Besides the small matter of the fire? Sure.” I tossed back my drink. “Because I’ll dissolve the partnership myself after the New Year. The club isn’t happening.” “Why not?”

Another headache set in behind my eyes. I was sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again.

I clipped out the same reasons I’d given Sloane; like Sloane, Kai seemed unimpressed.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “Entrepreneurs make even more. You can’t succeed in business without failing, Xavier.”

“Maybe not, but I bet most mistakes involve a disrupted cash flow or media mishap, not a fire that could’ve killed people.”

“Could’ve but didn’t.”

“By some miracle.”

“I don’t believe in miracles. Everything that happens, happens for a reason.” Kai turned to face me fully. “That list of names I gave you? Those are some of the sharpest people in business. They believed in you enough to invest their time, money, and resources into the club, and they wouldn’t have done that if they didn’t think you were capable of pulling it off. So stop using your martyr act as an excuse and figure out how to finish what you started.”

The heated reprimand was so out of character for Kai, it stunned me into silence. We weren’t friends, exactly, and maybe that was why his words successfully cut through me. There was nothing quite so humbling or clarifying as getting lambasted by an acquaintance.

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but nothing came out because he was right. I was acting like a martyr. I’d taken the fire and made it all about me and my guilt, and I’d used that as an excuse to walk away from the club.

Despite my success in getting the process started and the best of the best onboard, I was afraid I’d still fail. The fire gave me an opportunity to walk away without admitting to that fear.

I’d downed three glasses of whisky before Kai arrived, but the realization sobered me up quickly.

First Sloane, now this. I really was a coward. To think I accused Bentley of being that very thing when I’m worse.

I swallowed the golf ball that’d lodged itself in my throat and tried to think logically.

Kai might’ve been right, but it didn’t change the fact that pulling off a grand club opening by early May was nearly impossible from a logistical perspective. I could throw together something smaller, but whatever I did needed to pass muster with the inheritance committee.