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

I tried to imagine Alex pushing a stroller around the zoo, but the only way I could see him stepping foot in the place was if he was magically transformed into one of those vicious jungle cats they kept in locked enclosures.

“Look on the bright side,” I said, attempting levity. “I’m sure the zoo will still be there in ten minutes unless the Smithsonian really pissed someone off.”

He stared at me, expressionless, but I could’ve sworn the temperature dropped thirty degrees.

Right. I forgot Alex possessed roughly the same amount of humor as a rock.

I gave him a quick overview of what happened with the fire. He knew all this already, but the recap provided an opportunity to gauge his reaction in person.

He’d been oddly calm about the destruction of one of his most valuable properties. Granted, he wasn’t exactly an emotive person, but I’d expected something. A strong rebuke, a sniper across from my townhouse…hell, even a frown.

He didn’t give me any of that.

“I see,” he said after I finished. The bitter residue of guilt lingered in my mouth, but it vaporized at his next words. “I looked into it. The fire wasn’t the result of a freak electrical accident. It was sabotage.”

Sabotage. The word detonated like an atomic bomb. Shockwaves rippled through the room, and I stared at Alex, sure he was joking if it weren’t for the fact he didn’t joke. Ever. “What are you talking about?”

“My team investigated the fire since I can’t trust those insurance idiots to produce a single ounce of competence,” Alex said. “The wiring was old, but it didn’t explode by itself. Someone gave it a hand.”

“There was no one in there except me, Vuk, Willow, and the construction crew,” I said. “The crew members were thoroughly vetted by Harper.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been one of them. Whoever did it snuck in before the workers arrived, shaved off the insulation on the remaining good wires, and repositioned them to maximize their chances of exposure.”

Christ. It was like I’d gone to sleep and woke up in the middle of a Nate Reynolds movie. “Your team managed to ascertain all that from a burned-down vault?”

Alex’s smile didn’t contain a single trace of warmth. “I hire the best.”

If he was worried about the saboteur targeting another one of his buildings, he didn’t show it.

Sabotage. I turned the word and its implications over in my head.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Who would want to sabotage the vault to the point of committing arson?” The nightlife industry was cutthroat, but most of the players shied away from outright crimes unless they were in the mob. If they were in the mob, the type of establishment they ran was vastly different from mine; there was no threat there.

“I have my fair share of enemies. So does Vuk. So do you.” Alex sounded bored, like we were discussing the weather instead of arson. “Hunting down the culprit will take time, but I will find them.”

Finally, there it was—a speck of icy rage that belied Alex’s outward composure. Whoever the culprit was, they were in for a world of pain once he tracked them down.

“I don’t have enemies,” I said. Competitors, sure. People who didn’t like me, absolutely. But enemies? I wasn’t in the mafia. I didn’t have people who wanted to kill me or hurt the people close to me.

“Everyone that’s rich and in the public eye has enemies, even if they don’t know it,” Alex said. He tapped his watch; it’d been ten minutes. “I’ll take care of the saboteur. You take care of repairing the damage.”

I’d forgotten about my impending decision regarding the club’s future; I’d been too distracted by Sloane and this meeting with Alex.

Kai had a point about my martyr act, but unless I discovered a way to freeze time, I would never get the club up and running by the deadline.

I told Alex as much.

“That bears no relevance to our situation,” he said, checking his watch again. “Were you not the one who told Markovic you’ll get it done, no matter what? ‘If you say no, the club will still open. If I don’t secure the vault, I’ll find another location. It’s not ideal, but business isn’t always about the ideal. It’s about getting things done, and I’ll get it done with or without you.’”

I grimaced. It was eerie hearing my conversation with another person quoted back to me verbatim.

“You wanted something of your own; well, this is your chance,” Alex said. “Unless, of course, you lied and only started the club for your inheritance. If that’s the case, I gravely misjudged you, and I do not like being wrong.” His green eyes glinted with warning. “Make a decision by noon on January first.”

He stood and left me alone in his office, his words hanging like a guillotine ready to fall.





There was nothing like being reprimanded by a man who did not give one flying fuck about you to put things into perspective quickly.

Alex may have been invested in the club, but he wasn’t personally invested me, and he’d cut straight to the heart of the matter.

He was also right. The Vault started as a necessity because of my inheritance but it quickly became a passion project. I liked building a business. I loved the thrills, the challenges, and the creation of something that was mine. Was I really going to let an arbitrary deadline ruin that for me?