King of Greed (Kings of Sin #3) by Ana Huang

“Thank you.” I took a grateful sip and examined him over the paper rim.

Aiden hadn’t been joking when he’d said he was hands-on with his tenants. He checked up on me frequently, not in a creepy or overbearing way but in a helpful way—probably because he knew I had zero experience opening a retail store—and he’d referred me to his trusted contractors when I was overwhelmed by the choices.

“How are things going?” he asked. “The guys aren’t giving you a hard time, I hope.”

“No, they’ve been great. They said everything should be ready after New Year’s.” It would be sooner if the holidays didn’t slow everything down. I wasn’t complaining; as much work as I put into the shop, the prospect of actually opening it made me want to throw up.

What if I didn’t get in-person customers? What if I accidentally set the place on fire? What if it got vandalized or a pipe broke or…or I got held up one night during closing time? It was a safe neighborhood, but still. Running a brick-and-mortar store was a lot different than running an online business, and I’d jumped headfirst into it without much planning or forethought.

“Good,” Aiden said. “I’m sure it’ll be a hit. The cafe was a good idea.”

Since I doubted I would get much foot traffic hawking flowers alone, I’d added a few elements to my original business plan. Once it was finished, the space would be part gallery, part flower shop, and part cafe.

“Yes. Nothing draws New Yorkers like a good…” I trailed off when I caught a glimpse of blond hair outside the window.

Tall frame. Tailored suit. Expensive.

My heart leapt into my throat. Then the man turned, and it crashed to earth again.

Not Dominic. Just someone who bore a passing resemblance to him.

I wished I could say it was the first time I mistook a stranger for my ex-husband. I hadn’t seen him since he signed the papers, but the specter of his presence haunted me on every corner.

Was there a support group for this type of thing? A Divorcees Anonymous where we could exorcise the ghosts of marriages past? My mother was the only divorced person I knew, and her advice was less useful than a paper umbrella in a rainstorm.

“Alessandra?” Aiden prompted, bringing my attention back to him.

“Sorry. I thought I…I thought I saw someone I knew.” I took another sip of my drink and took solace in its earthy warmth.

Bringing me matcha instead of espresso had been a thoughtful gesture, not that I was surprised. Aiden was always thoughtful. Why couldn’t I have married someone like him instead? He was nice, attentive, and seemed content with his life. Granted, my interactions with him had been limited to discussions of plumbing and the best local takeout so far, but maybe they didn’t have to be.

You’ve spent eleven years with the same man. It’s time to broaden your horizons.

Sloane’s advice crept through my head again, and I took the leap before I could chicken out.

“By the way, do you have any plans for tomorrow night?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual instead of jittery.

Breathe. You can do this.

Aiden’s brows rose an inch. “Nothing concrete. I usually catch a game with friends at a bar, but that’s flexible.”

I may not have dated in years, but even I recognized a deliberate opening when I saw it.

“Do you want to grab dinner? A friendly one,” I rushed out. I wasn’t ready for a real, official date yet, but this was as close as I could get for now. “I want to thank you for referring me to the contractors. I would’ve spent weeks trying to find good ones if it weren’t for you.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, followed by a pleased grin. “I would love to get dinner with you.”



This was a mistake.

It’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d invited Aiden to dinner, and I already wanted to kick my past self for her foolishness.

We’d said it was a platonic date, but I’d gotten my hair done and he’d cleaned up in a dress shirt and non-denim pants.

He looked nice, really nice, but everything seemed wrong. The scent of his cologne, the way he guided me through the restaurant with his hand on my arm instead of the small of my back…it was like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong slot.

Stop overthinking things. You had years to get comfortable with Dominic, and you barely know Aiden. Of course it’ll feel weird at the beginning.

“I’ve never been to this restaurant,” Aiden said as we sat at our table. “But I’ve heard great things.”

“Me too.”

An awkward silence descended. We conversed so easily at the shop, but outside the box of our previously defined relationship, I couldn’t think of a single interesting thing to say.

Should I talk about the weather? The upcoming holidays? The article I’d read about a rat infestation on one of the subway lines? Probably not. It was New York. There was always a rat infestation.

Luckily, our server arrived soon after and saved us from drowning in the tension.

“We’ll have the merlot. Thank you,” Aiden said when the server presented the wine list and I told him to choose. After all, it was his thank you dinner.

“Don’t you…” I bit back the rest of my sentence.

Dominic always ordered a cabernet, our mutual favorite, but I wasn’t on a date with him. I would never go on another date with him again.