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

“Shut up,” I said through my smile. The cameras were watching, and I wanted today’s photos to be perfect. “Unsolicited commentary isn’t the best man’s job.

I swept my eyes over the crowd, restless. Almost every guest had RSVP’d yes. I spotted Dominic and Alessandra between the Laurents and the Singhs, and Christian’s girlfriend Stella seated next to Queen Bridget and Prince Rhys of Eldorra. Surprisingly, my parents had made it as well, and they’d ditched their usual beach clothes for the appropriate wedding attire.

My gaze skimmed over the Laus. Francis was here as Cecelia’s plus one, but he’d been stripped of all father-of-the-bride duties. Cecelia would be walking her down the aisle instead. It was a humiliating public snub for someone so obsessed with his reputation, but he must’ve thought not attending was worse than attending as the guest of a guest.

He sat next to his son-in-law, dour but silent. Vivian had agonized for weeks over whether to invite him before we settled on the current compromise. She was worried I’d be upset, but I’d pushed Francis so far in the back of my mind he was a speck in the rearview mirror.

As long as Vivian was happy, I was happy.

“It should be. You wouldn’t be here without me,” Luca said, bringing my attention back to him. He reeked of self-satisfaction. “Who pulled your head out of your ass when you were busy wallowing?”

“I’m about to put my foot up your ass if you don’t shut up.”

Whoever invented younger siblings deserved a special place in hell.

“Both of you shut up,” Christian said from Luca’s other side. “Christ, brothers are annoying. Thank fuck I don’t have one.”

A-fucking-men.

Kai was the only groomsman with the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

He’d fixed his gaze across the archway, where Agnes, Sloane, and Isabella stood in blush pink bridesmaid dresses.

Isabella cocked an eyebrow at him; his gaze narrowed a fraction before the rich, majestic tones of the wedding march filled the air and he flicked his eyes toward the aisle.

The guests rose as one. All thoughts of annoying brothers and equally annoying groomsmen ceased when Vivian appeared at the end of the aisle. Hell, all thoughts ceased, period.

The only thing that existed was her.

My breath stilled as she walked down the aisle with her mother, her face glowing and her smile soft as she met my eyes.

Vivian once told me about a Chinese proverb that said an invisible thread connected those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance.

I felt the phantom tug of that thread now, stretching between us and vibrating with the promise of something only fate could deliver.

I used to think we wouldn’t be together if her father hadn’t forced us together. I was wrong.

A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.

A suspicious haze blurred my vision when Vivian reached me. I blinked it back. If I didn’t, I’d never hear the end of it from Luca, Christian, or Kai.

Her mother handed her off to me. Cecelia had been upset when Vivian refused to let her bulldoze her way into wedding preparations. Now, she looked suspiciously misty-eyed.

It seems she possessed emotions other than disapproval after all.

“You clean up nice, Mr. Russo,” Vivian murmured. Her hand was small and soft in mine.

“I could say the same for you, Mrs. Russo.” She wore a custom-made gown and the best hair and makeup money could buy, but even in a burlap sack, she’d be the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“I’m not Mrs. Russo yet. There’s still time for me to live out my runaway bride fantasy,” she quipped.

A wicked smile spread across my lips. “I do love a good chase.”

Vivian’s cheeks pinked at the double meaning.

The priest cleared his throat, interrupting our whispered conversation. We exchanged a last secret smile before we turned our full attention to the ceremony.

Priest’s remarks, vows, ring exchange. The pounding of my heart muffled sound and motion until we reached the end of the ceremony.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may—”

I swept Vivian into my arms and kissed her before the priest finished his sentence.

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles. I barely heard them. I was too busy with my wife.

Wife. The word sent an electric thrill down my spine.

“Impatient as always,” Vivian teased when we broke apart. Her face was flushed with pleasure and laughter. “We’ll have to work on that. Patience is a virtue.”

“I never claimed to be virtuous, sweetheart. Sinning is more fun.” Another wicked grin. “As you’ll find out tonight.”

Pink blossomed anew across her face and chest.

My grin widened.

I’d never get tired of making her smile and blush.

She was my wife, my partner, my guiding star.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.





VIVIAN

“My baby is married. They grow up so fast.” Isabella let out a dramatic sniffle. “I still remember when you were an innocent twenty-two-year-old, navigating the jungle of New—”

“Stop being dramatic. Vivian is a year older than you.” Sloane took a delicate sip of champagne. “Several years, if we’re talking about maturity.”