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

“That includes buying the same sound system we used on opening night.” I cocked an eyebrow. “You have a lot of faith in my ability to pull this off.”

The reasoning he offered for granting me early access to the Void was a simple one, but I didn’t buy Killian’s concern over publicity for his company’s latest sound system. The entire product vertical made up a fraction of the Katrakis Group’s revenue compared to phones and laptops, but perhaps it was a passion project or a pride thing.

Billionaires were eccentric, and if the rumors were true, the notorious bachelor was eccentric in many ways.

“I have faith because I recognize the same quality in you that I’ve seen in every successful entrepreneur,” Killian said. “Hunger. You don’t want this to work; you need this to work because the club is a reflection of you. If it fails, you fail, and you would do anything not to fail.”

Unease crawled over the back of my neck.

Killian had me pegged to a tee, and we’d met less than an hour ago. Was I really that transparent, or was he really that good?

We finished our walkthrough of the vault. It needed work, but the bones were there—stone floors, original crown moldings, teller enclosures that could be transformed into bottle displays. Once I cleaned it up and installed my design elements, it was going to be a hell of a space.

“Who’s in charge of the design?” Killian asked, savvy enough to steer the conversation toward safer waters after his uncanny psychoanalysis.

“Farrah Lin-Ryan from F&J Creative.” Name number eight. She was the city’s premier interior designer for dining and hospitality spaces.

“Good choice,” Killian said with an approving rumble. “We’ve worked together on a number of projects.”

I knew Farrah was good, but it was reassuring to hear it from someone else.

After a few more questions about the design and a handshake deal, Killian promised to send a contract over and left for another meeting.

I stayed, soaking it all in.

It was my second time in the vault after Alex had handed over the keys, and I was still wrapping my head around the fact that it was mine. My place to shape, mold, and design as I saw fit (with some professional input). It was my responsibility, which was both thrilling and terrifying.

A familiar chime reverberated through the empty space.

I glanced down, my high melting into concern when I saw who was calling. I had a lunch date with Sloane soon, but I was too anxious to let the call roll to voicemail.

“Is everything okay?” I asked without preamble after picking up. Eduardo wouldn’t call me in the middle of the day unless something was wrong. Then again, it wasn’t like I had any more parents left to lose.

A brief, humorless smile flicked into existence at my dark humor. Coping mechanisms were coping mechanisms, no matter how morbid.

“I wanted to see how you were holding up and how the nightclub is going,” Eduardo said. “I’ve heard good things from Sloane, though she may be a bit biased considering the, ah, recent developments.”

So news of our relationship had made its way to Bogotá. I wasn’t surprised. I bet the inheritance committee was watching me like a hawk.

“We didn’t start dating until after I came up with the idea,” I said. “If you’re worried about it compromising Sloane’s judgment, don’t be. She’s not that type of person. She’ll be honest regardless of our relationship status.”

Even if she were the type to go easy on me because we were dating—which she wasn’t—I wouldn’t want her to. I’d succeed on my own merit or not at all.

“I know that, mijo, but not everyone does. There are growing whispers of her conflict of interest. She’s your publicist, and she’s one of your evaluators come May, yet you two are…involved,” Eduardo said delicately. “It doesn’t look good.”

“I don’t care how it looks.” Stubbornness set into my jaw. “We’re consenting adults. What we do in our free time is our business, and my father’s will didn’t say a thing about conflicts of interest, nor did it forbid me from dating a committee member. If anyone has a problem with us dating, they can take it up with the executor of his will. Sloane is one judge out of five, Eduardo. She won’t make or break the decision.”

“Unless there’s a tie, but I see your point.” A long pause preceded his next words. “I’ve never heard you so fired up over a woman.”

“She’s not just any woman. She’s…” Everything.

I almost said it. The word came so easily, it would’ve slipped right off my tongue had its potential implications not hit me at the same time like a hollow-point bullet.

Sloane couldn’t be my everything.

Yes, I cared about her deeply, and no, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She set my blood on fire whenever she was near and when she hurt, I hurt. She was the only person with whom I felt comfortable enough to share the secrets I’d shared, and if a genie popped out of a bottle this very second and asked me to change something about her, I wouldn’t change a single thing.

But all that wasn’t the same as her being everything, because if she were everything, then that meant she…that meant I…

“Ah.” Eduardo’s voice softened. “I see.”