King of Pride (Kings of Sin #2) by Ana Huang

Kai was gone.





CHAPTER 12


Kai



“Is there a reason we’re doing this here instead of at the club?” Dominic cast a disdainful look around the simulation room. It was the best money could buy, with the latest state-of-the-art technology, a glass case of autographed golf paraphernalia, and a full wet bar, but he looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Valhalla has better facilities. This is adequate at best.”

“Don’t be a snob.” I uncapped a bottle of single-malt scotch. “Sometimes, a change of scenery is necessary.”

Dominic, Dante, and I were gathered at the new entertainment complex in Hudson Yards for our semi-regular lunch and exchange of information. I supplied the news and whispers, Dominic the market insights, and Dante the corporate wheelings and dealings. It was a mutually beneficial relationship all around, though we’d yet to find a meeting spot up to par with Dominic’s standards.

The quiet foster kid with the chip on his shoulder had come a long way since his days in the Ohio projects. Dominic had the most expensive taste of anyone I knew, and I’d grown up with people who hadn’t blinked an eye at shelling out tens of millions of dollars on objectively questionable art.

“And sometimes, people use change as an excuse to avoid a certain location,” Dante drawled from his seat along the wall. “You haven’t set foot in the club for three weeks unless it was for boxing.”

I poured the alcohol into a glass and avoided his eagle-eyed gaze. “I have other responsibilities besides loitering at the club. The holiday season is a busy time of year.”

“Hmm.” The sound weighed heavy with skepticism.

I ignored it. I wasn’t lying about my workload. It was the week before Thanksgiving, which meant I had a tight window left to close the DigiStream deal before everyone signed off for the holidays. My team had stressed the importance of completing the deal before the end of the year for various financial reasons. It wouldn’t be a total disaster if negotiations spilled over into January, but I didn’t settle for “not a disaster” when it came to business. I wanted the deal sealed before the CEO vote.

Of course, Dante wasn’t wrong. I’d avoided Valhalla like the plague since the fall gala. Since the night I took Isabella to my hideaway—my favorite place at the club, which I’d never shown anyone—and almost kissed her.

I tossed back my drink. The scotch burned a path down my throat but couldn’t erase the memory of those big brown eyes and lush, red mouth.

One tiny dip of my head and I could’ve tasted her. Discovered for myself whether her lips were as soft as they looked and whether she tasted as sweet as I imagined.

Heat rippled through me. I set my jaw and brushed it off.

Thank God reason had prevailed before I gave in to my baser instincts. It would’ve been poor form to take one woman on a date, then kiss another woman the same night, even if the former had already left.

It would’ve been worth it, an insidious voice sang.

Shut up, another voice snapped. You never know what’s good for you.

I rubbed a hand over my face. Great. Now I was silently arguing with myself. Damn Isabella.

Dominic finished his round at the simulator. I took his place, eager for a distraction. I wasn’t a huge fan of golf, but DigiStream’s CEO loved it, and I wanted to brush up on my skills for our post-Thanksgiving game at Pine Valley.

I’d just lined up my shot when Dominic’s phone dinged.

“Kai.”

Something in his voice snapped my senses into high alert. I straightened, a cold rope of dread twisting through my gut when I saw both Dominic and Dante staring at their cells with grim expressions.

Did something happen to my mother? Maybe she was sick after all; she’d collapsed and been rushed to the hospital. Or perhaps it was my sister and newborn nephew, who were flying to Australia today. There’d been a plane accident, or a fire, or…

My dread solidified into ice as worst-case scenarios flipped through my head at lightning speed.

I reached for my phone and scanned the headlines blaring across my screen. Not my family. Relief loosened the fist around my heart, but it was short-lived.

DigiStream co-founder Colin Whidby rushed to the hospital after a drug overdose…

Tech superstar and DigiStream CEO Colin Whidby in critical condition…

“Jesus fuck.” Dante verbalized my sentiments as only Dante could. “That’s some bad timing.”

“You don’t say.” I didn’t indulge in profanity often, but the temptation to curse pushed against my lips as the implications sank in.

I knew Colin had a nasty drug habit; so did half the people on Wall Street. I didn’t like it, but I also didn’t police my business associates’ personal lives. They could do whatever they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting other people or the bottom line. Plus, of the two co-founders, Colin had been the most amenable to the deal. His co-founder Rohan Mishra had resisted until Colin brought him around. Now, I either had to deal with Rohan or postpone closing talks until next year, likely after the CEO vote had already happened.

Dammit.

Even without the CEO position at stake, the DigiStream deal was essential. The board might not believe me, but the video streaming service was the future of news as the world shifted from traditional media apparatuses to citizen-driven reporting.