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

Girls’ night. A seed of suspicion sprouted in my stomach, but I kept my tone as casual as possible. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” A pause, then, “Who are you here with?”

“Vivian and her friends. We met at last year’s fall gala and stayed in touch. When she found out I didn’t have any plans tonight, she invited me to come out with them.” Alessandra tilted her head toward the elevator. “Do you want to join us? We have a table in the VIP lounge.”

Vivian and her friends. Meaning Isabella.

The knowledge lit a match in my blood, but I suppressed a visible reaction. “I don’t want to intrude on a girls’ night out.”

“You won’t be intruding. The whole point of the night is to meet the opposite sex. Well, not me and Vivian since we’re married,” Alessandra amended. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “But Sloane and Isabella have been fending off advances all night. Well, Sloane has been fending off and Isabella has been accepting.” She laughed. “She must’ve danced with half the single men here already.”

Something dark and unwanted flared in my chest.

“How lovely,” I said, my voice clipped. I forced an easy smile over the urge to demand the name of every single fucker who’d touched her. Normal me would’ve been appalled at the violent turn in my thoughts, but I hadn’t been normal since the moment I laid eyes on Isabella.

A burst of rich, creamy laughter spilled through the air, shattering my concentration.

I glanced up with a touch of annoyance. I’d been making decent progress on my translation of The Art of War before I’d been rudely interrupted.

I scanned the bar, my eyes settling on the one person I’d never seen before. Purple-black hair, tanned skin, incredible curves poured into Valhalla’s signature black staff uniform. Silver earrings glinted in her ears, and when she lifted her hand to brush a lock of hair out of her eye, I spotted the dark swirls of a tattoo on her inner wrist.

Her coworker said something, and another burst of mirth poured out of her. Even if it hadn’t, I would’ve known she was the laugh’s owner. She radiated the same wild, uninhibited energy.

She talked with her hands, her face animated. I didn’t know what she was saying or why I was staring, but every time I tried to look away, her presence demanded my attention like a rainbow in a sky of gray.

A whisper of unease threaded through my gut.

Whoever she was, I could tell, without even exchanging a single word with her, that she was going to be trouble.

“Kai?” Alessandra’s voice grounded me back in the club.

I blinked away the memory and slipped on an easy smile. Focus. “But I think I’ll join you after all. I’d much rather spend the evening with friends than strangers.”

“Perfect.” She returned my smile. “Vivian will be happy to see you.”

We made small talk as we took the elevator up to the third floor, but I was only half paying attention.

I hadn’t reached out to Isabella since Thanksgiving Eve. One, I’d been swamped with work, and two, I’d needed time to sort through my thoughts.

The rational side of me insisted I leave things as they were. No good would come of pursuing her any further, especially with the board watching my every move. I couldn’t afford a scandal before the CEO vote, and everything about Isabella—from her indecent conversation topics to her ability to storm through every defense I’d erected with nothing but a smile—screamed scandal. The irrational side of me, however, didn’t give a fuck.

For the first time in my life, the irrational side was winning.

When Alessandra and I entered the VIP lounge, my eyes automatically scanned the room for a pair of familiar dimples and dark hair.

Nothing.

Vivian and Sloane sat at a corner table, but Isabella was nowhere in sight.

She could be in the restroom or getting another drink…or she could be dancing with someone somewhere else in the club.

Green spread in my blood like poison.

I’d never been jealous of anyone in my life. I didn’t need to be; I’d always been the fastest, smartest, most accomplished person in the room. I barely paid attention to the competition because there was no competition.

But in that moment, I was so fucking jealous of a hypothetical person I couldn’t breathe.

I attempted to marshal my runaway emotion into a neutral expression as I approached the table. I wasn’t sure I succeeded; it was too thick and consuming, like smoke billowing from a wildfire.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a guest.” Alessandra took the seat next to Vivian, whose eyebrows winged up when she saw me. “I saw Kai downstairs and figured the more, the merrier.”

“I’m here for research,” I said, preempting Vivian’s question. “Mode de Vie is featuring Verve in an article about Manhattan nightlife.”

Note to self: tell Mode de Vie’s entertainment editor to run an article on Manhattan nightlife and mention Verve.

“I see.” Amusement glided across her face. “Well, like Ále said, the more, the merrier. I hope you find some good tidbits for your…article.”

“You’re doing the research yourself?” Sloane leaned back and assessed me with cool, skeptical eyes. Alessandra and Vivian were dressed for a night out, but Sloane’s tight bun and wide-legged pantsuit looked like they came straight from the office. “Isn’t that something reserved for junior writers, not division presidents?”