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

For once, Georgia was speechless.

Part of me had considered keeping the audio to myself, but that was before she stormed into my office, flung accusations in my direction, and ignored my requests to leave.

If she wanted to stay so badly, then she could do so on my fucking terms.

Her earlier words still hurt, but the satisfaction at seeing her tremble with outrage was enough to temporarily numb those wounds.

“Worry less about my relationship with Xavier and more about your own marriage,” I said, my voice cold and calm. “It took one chance encounter for Bentley to try and come crawling back to me. I don’t want him anymore, of course, nor will I ever want him again. Unlike other people, I prefer partners who understand the concept of loyalty, but I can easily walk away and never give that man another thought. You, on the other hand, are stuck with him.” I offered a casual shrug. “Perhaps try marriage counseling or therapy. I imagine being someone’s second choice is difficult, but you should be used to that by now. You seem to want only the things I’ve had first.”

Georgia’s skin grew increasingly mottled the more I spoke. This was the worst-case scenario for her—not only hearing the shit Bentley had been saying behind her back but knowing I, specifically, was privy to her humiliation. She hated losing face in front of her “competition,” and as much as she and her friends tried to one-up each other on a regular basis, I’d always been her biggest competitor in her mind.

If there was one thing Georgia Kensington did not tolerate, it was coming in second place.

“Now, if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.” I leaned back in my chair. “Xavier and I have dinner plans at Monarch, and I don’t want to miss them.”

Monarch was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city.

Even my father had issues getting a reservation.

“Whatever,” Georgia snapped. “Monarch is over anyway. No one eats there anymore.”

It was as weak a comeback as I’d ever heard from my sister, and I merely looked at her until she spun on her heels and stormed out without another word.

I waited until the door closed and several beats had passed before I let the disdain slide off my face.

What kind of sick, heartless monster doesn’t shed a single tear when their mother’s gone?

Thank God we got rid of Rhea.

You know Xavier’s going to leave you.

In her absence, Georgia’s taunts rushed to fill the void, and without my pride to keep me upright, I was suddenly so, so tired.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the rapid patter of my heart. I hated how I’d taken her bait before I cut her off with the Bentley recording. I hated how transparent I was to her, and how deeply her words cut when I should’ve been immune.

I’d known she was trying to hurt me, and I’d let her do it anyway.

My hands closed around the edge of my desk. It reminded me of Xavier, which reminded me of what Georgia had said.

Everyone wants to melt the so-called ice queen.

How long do you think a guy like that will stay with someone like you before he gets bored?

The deadline for our two-month trial period loomed at the end of the month. I’d avoided thinking about it because I wasn’t sure what I would do—stay in a relationship that made me terrifyingly happy and risk it ending one day, or run back to the comfort of my solo bubble? That was, of course, assuming I had a choice and Xavier wanted to be with me after the trial period concluded.

What if he didn’t?

That would make things easier for me. I wouldn’t have to choose, and I could slide back into my old life like it’d never happened. Like we’d never kissed or floated in a pool beneath the city skies. Like he’d never held my hand during a race to the hospital or set up a rooftop movie screening on a beautiful fall day. Like I’d never comforted him, trusted him, and—

The world blurred for an instant.

It was so unusual and disorienting, I couldn’t comprehend it. When I did, a reckless shock of hope darted through me, and I reached up, my breath stuck somewhere between my throat and lungs.

My fingers touched my cheeks. They were dry. I blinked, and the world was clear.

Of course it was.

Disappointment and relief amplified the pressure crowding my chest. My office suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. I could still smell my sister’s perfume, and it made my stomach roil.

I needed to get out of here before I suffocated.

Jillian was waiting outside my door when I exited. “Sloane, I’m so sorry,” she said, her expression stricken. “I tried to stop her, but she got past me, and once she was inside, I didn’t want to—”

“It’s fine.” At least my voice was clear. Thank God for the small things. “Please call building security and ask them to place Georgia Kensington-Harris and Bentley Harris on the guest blacklist. I want them to call the police if either comes within a thousand feet of my office.”

“Consider it done.” Jillian worried her bottom lip. “Are you okay? Do you, um, want a doughnut?”

She believed sugar was the answer to all problems.

I almost smiled, but my facial muscles didn’t have it in them. “No, thanks. I’m working from home for the rest of the day. Assign Tracy to oversee the Curated Travel interview with the Singhs instead.” I gave her a few more instructions before I left and walked to my apartment instead of taking a car.