King of Wrath (Kings of Sin #1) by Ana Huang

“I don’t agree with what you did, but I understand it. So even though I should hate you…” Her voice lowered until it was barely audible. “I don’t.”

My knuckles turned white from gripping my knee. “Even if the company goes bankrupt?”

A frown tugged at her lips. “Do you think it will?”

“It’s very possible.” I didn’t take my eyes off her. “Tell me the truth, Vivian. Do you want me to step in and end it?”

We hadn’t reached a critical juncture yet. What’d been done to Lau Jewels was reversible, but there was a ticking clock on the operation. Soon, it would be out of even my hands.

“I will,” I said. “No manipulation from your father. No questions asked. Just say the word.”

I meant what I said the other night. I loved her more than I ever hated Francis, and if being with her meant I had to save him, I’d do it without hesitation.

Vivian’s eyes shone in the light pouring from the TV. “Why do that when you went to all this trouble to punish him?”

“Because I don’t care about punishment or revenge anymore. I care about you.”

The shine brightened. A tiny tremble rolled through her when I brushed my thumb over her cheek, the food and movie forgotten.

I had no frame of reference for the indescribable ache in the pit of my stomach. It was endless and starved, satiated only by the softness of her skin beneath mine.

Vivian didn’t touch me back. But she also didn’t pull away.

“What are we doing, Dante?” she whispered.

My thumb traveled south and skimmed the curve of her bottom lip. “We’re working things out the way any couple would.”

“Most couples aren’t as dysfunctional as we are.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little dysfunction. It keeps things interesting.” I smiled at her soft huff before turning serious again. “Move back in, mia cara. You can have your old room if you don’t feel comfortable sleeping in ours yet.” I swallowed. “Greta misses you. Edward misses you. I miss you. So damn much.”

Vivian dragged in a shaky breath. “You really think it’s that simple? I move back in and everything’s fixed?”

“No.” We were in a hell of a mess, and I wasn’t that naive. “But it’s a first step.” I removed my hand and brushed my lips over hers, just light enough to steal a hint of a taste. “You and me, sweetheart. That’s the destination. And I’m willing to take as many steps as I need to get there.”





CHAPTER 40





Vivian





I didn’t move back in with Dante.

Part of me wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to jump in with both feet again so soon.

I did, however, agree to another date with him.

Three days after our movie night, we arrived at a quiet corner of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. It was a gorgeous afternoon, all clear skies and golden sunshine, and the picnic setup looked like something out of a fairytale.

A low wooden table stretched across a thick ivory blanket, surrounded by huge cushions, gold and glass floor lanterns, and an oversized wicker hamper. The table itself was set with porcelain plates and a feast of foods, including baguettes, charcuterie, and desserts.

“Dante,” I breathed, stunned by the sheer intricacy of the setup. “What…”

“I remembered how much you like picnics.” His palm slid from my hip to the small of my back. Fire licked over my skin, chasing away my goosebumps from the sight before us.

“Please don’t tell me you shut down the garden for this.”

Most visitors picnicked on one of the grassy lawns, but we were smack dab in the middle of an actual garden.

“Of course not,” Dante said. “I only reserved part of it.”

His amusement following my groan was a cool glass of water on a hot day, and the atmosphere was comfortable enough to sink into as we settled around the table.

It was easy and effortless, a far cry from the poignant but charged air the other night. Here, I could almost forget the troubles waiting for us outside the lush confines of the garden.

“This might be the longest date I’ve been on,” I said. It’d started with a special exhibition at the Whitney Museum, followed by mimosas at an exclusive brunch party and now this.

On the surface, it seemed like any other lavish date, but I suspected Dante had an ulterior motive. The rumors regarding our relationship and my father’s company were escalating. By taking me out so publicly, he was making a statement: our relationship was rock solid (even though it wasn’t), and any slander about me personally wouldn’t be tolerated. My tie to him was the best form of protection against vicious society gossip.

No one wanted to piss Dante off.

“We can make it longer.” His grin worked its way into my chest. If he was upset about me rejecting his proposal to move back in, he didn’t show it. He hadn’t brought up the issue since his initial disappointment. “Overnight trip to upstate New York? I have a cabin in the Adirondacks.”

“Don’t push it. I’m docking the extra hours off of our next date.”

“So there is going to be a next date.”

“Maybe. Depends if you keep annoying me or not.”

His deep-rumbled laugh scattered tingles down my spine.