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

“It seems to be a recurring pattern.” Roman’s expression smoothed with his kill shot. “Where’s your wife, Dom? Did she get sick of your shit and finally leave?”

The tight, hard knot that’d been building inside me since the night I came home and found Alessandra gone finally exploded.

A snarl ripped through the air as I charged forward. Fist met bone, eliciting a sharp hiss. Roman was caught off guard only for a second before he tossed his dagger to the side and returned my hit with so much force it knocked the breath out of my lungs.

A vase shattered on the ground as we attacked each other the way only brothers could, with hostility more potent because of our shared past. I didn’t go for my gun; he didn’t reach for his blade. Our confrontation had been fifteen years in the making, and we weren’t letting weapons soften our blows.

This was fucking personal.

Sweat and fury soaked the air. Skin split, pushing rivulets of blood down our faces. My vision flashed black, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. Somewhere, bone crunched.

It wasn’t the first time Roman and I had physically fought. As teenagers, we were quick to anger, and we often tussled our way to cuts and bruises. However, the years had ramped up our capacity for brutality, and we might’ve both died that night had we not clung so fiercely to our reasons for living.

Alessandra for me, something unknown for Roman that he would never share.

Finally, at some point between the grunts and blows, our energy depleted. We sank onto the floor, bruised and exhausted, our chests heaving from the aftermath of the storm.

“Fuck.” I spat out a mouthful of blood. It stained the edge of the twenty-thousand-dollar rug I’d bought in Turkey, but that was the good thing about being rich. Everything was replaceable. Almost everything. “You’re not a scrawny little shit anymore.”

“And you finally learned how to fight without cheating.”

“Fighting smarter instead of harder isn’t cheating.”

Roman snorted. Deep purple blotches were already forming on his face, and dried blood painted rusty streaks across his skin. One eye was swollen half shut.

I bet I didn’t look any better. Every inch of my body screamed with agony now that my adrenaline had crashed, and I was pretty sure I’d fractured a bone or two. However, while I’d taken a physical beating, the painful buzz in my head was gone. Our fight had expelled whatever had been festering inside me since I left Ohio, and that was worth every black eye and fracture.

Roman leaned his head back against the wall, his expression drained of anger. “Do you ever regret it?”

I didn’t have to ask what he was referring to. “All the damn time.”

Our breaths slowed to normal in the silence. It wasn’t a comfortable quiet, but it wasn’t destructive either. It just was.

“I tried looking for you,” I said. “After college. Multiple times. You were a ghost.”

“There’s a reason for that.” His reply carried hints of warning and tiredness.

A long-buried protective instinct flared to life. Despite our tumultuous history, he was still my younger brother. I didn’t have the resources to protect either of us back then, but I did now. “What have you gotten yourself into, Rome?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. It’s better that way—for both of us.”

“At least tell me you didn’t have anything to do with Wellgrew’s death.”

Orion Bank had been in chaos since his untimely demise. The new head of the bank was an idiot who seemed like he was trying to run the institution into the ground, and Wellgrew’s death had been ruled an accident despite people whispering otherwise.

“Don’t worry about him.” This time, Roman’s warning came through loud and clear. “He’s dead. That’s it. It’s over.”

I wiped a hand over my face. My palm came away bloody.

I wasn’t a boy struggling to survive in Ohio anymore, but maybe, beneath the money and power, I was still a coward. Because despite the alarm bells that rang with every word out of Roman’s mouth, I chose to ignore them.

We’d reached a temporary truce, and though I’d never admit it, it felt good to be around family again—enough so that I didn’t dare peel back the mask and see what my brother had become.





CHAPTER 33



Alessandra




“THE RSVPS ARE ROLLING IN.” SLOANE TAPPED HER phone screen with a satisfied smile. “Christian and Stella Harper, yes. Ayana, yes. Buffy Darlington, yes. It’s going to be a great event.”

“Of course it is. I organized it,” Vivian joked.

It was the week after New Year’s, and Sloane, Vivian, Isabella, and I were combining our weekly happy hour with party prep at the store. I had mocktails on hand for Vivian, who was entering her eleventh week of pregnancy. “On a serious note, this place looks amazing, Ále. The grand opening will be a hit.”

“I hope so.” Nerves fluttered in my stomach. “Thank you both for your help. Truly. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

There were perks to having a superstar publicist and event planner as my best friends. Sloane and Vivian were in charge of logistics while I scrambled to finish my collage in time for the event.

After an agonizing but much needed, realistic look at my timeline, I’d scrapped my original plan to recreate every project that’d been ruined in the flood and poured my energy into one big centerpiece instead. It would serve as the gallery’s featured showcase, and I would round it out with a few smaller pieces from home. The new layout was a gamble, but it was the best I could do without pushing back the opening date. My contracts with the caterer and DJ were nonrefundable, so I couldn’t postpone even if I wanted to.