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

“Hmm. I’m not surprised.”

I slanted a glance at her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you’re a control freak. You probably hated—and still hate—the idea of someone coming in and upending your life. The more people in the household, the harder it is to control your surroundings.”

My shock must’ve been evident because Vivian laughed and gave me a half-teasing, half-smug smile.

“It’s pretty obvious in the way you run your household,” she said. “Plus, during meals, you’re anal about your foods not touching. You put the meat on the upper left side of your plate, vegetables on the upper right, and carbs and grains on the bottom. You did it at my parents’ house and on my first night at your place, before you left for Europe.”

She sipped her coffee, managing to look regal even while drinking from a paper cup. “Control freak,” she summarized.

Reluctant admiration swept through me. “Impressive.”

I’d been particular about my foods touching since I was a child. I didn’t know why; the sight and texture of mixed foods just made my skin crawl.

“It comes with the job,” Vivian said. “Event planning requires strong attention to detail, especially when you’re dealing with the types of clients I have.”

Rich. Entitled. Needy.

She didn’t need to say it for me to know what she meant.

“Why event planning instead of the family business?” I was genuinely curious.

Vivian shrugged. “I like jewelry as a consumer, but I have no interest in the corporate side of the business,” she said. “Running Lau Jewels wouldn’t be a creative endeavor. It would be about stockholders, financial reports, and a thousand other things I don’t care about. I hate numbers, and I’m not good at them. My sister Agnes is the one who likes that stuff. She’s the company’s head of sales and marketing, and when my father retires, she’ll take over as CEO.”

There won’t be a company left to take over after I’m done.

A small twist of unease tugged at my gut before I dismissed it.

Her father deserved what was coming to him. Vivian and her sister didn’t, but ruin and collateral damage went hand in hand. It was the cost of doing business.

“What about you? Did you ever want to do something else?” Vivian asked.

“No.”

I’d spent my entire life preparing to take over the Russo Group. Pursuing another career path had never even crossed my mind.

“My father refused to take over the company, so it was up to me to carry on the Russo tradition,” I said. “Abnegating was never an option.”

“Your father could but you couldn’t? Seems unfair.”

“There’s no such thing as fairness in the business world. Besides, my father would’ve been shit as CEO. He’s the type of guy who cares more about being liked than getting the job done. He would’ve run the company into the ground within years, and my grandfather knew it. That was why he didn’t push him into taking an executive role.”

The words came out of their own accord.

I wasn’t sure why I was telling Vivian about my family. An hour ago, I would’ve rather jumped off the Empire State Building than spend another minute playing nice with her.

Maybe the kiss had short-circuited my brain, or maybe it was because this was my first moment of semi-peace since my grandfather died.

The past few months had been headache after headache. Funeral arrangements, Francis’s blackmail, Luca’s bullshit, the engagement and Europe trip and regular business and social obligations I had to keep up with.

It was nice to sit and breathe for a minute.

“Speaking of my parents, they’d like to meet you,” I said. Introducing Vivian to them was a headache I’d hoped to avoid, though I’d known the chances of fending them off for a year or however long it took to break the engagement were slim. “We’re spending Thanksgiving with them.”

According to Christian’s report, the Laus weren’t big on Thanksgiving, so Vivian shouldn’t be too upset about missing the holiday with her family.

Not that I cared if she was.

“Okay.” She paused, obviously waiting for more information. When I didn’t provide any, she asked, “Do your parents live in New York?”

“A little farther.” I tossed my empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can. “Bali.”

For now. My parents hadn’t spent more than three consecutive months in one place in decades.

Vivian’s mouth parted. “You want us to fly to Bali to meet your parents for Thanksgiving?”

“We’ll be there for a week. We leave the Sunday prior and come back the following Monday.”

“Dante.” She sounded like she was struggling to keep calm. “I can’t just go to Bali for a week with less than two months’ notice. I have a job, plans—”

“It’s a holiday weekend,” I said impatiently. “What are you planning? The Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade?”

She crumpled her bagel wrapper with a white-knuckled hand. “I have to be back that Monday morning for a client meeting. I’ll be tired, jet-lagged—”

“Then we’ll leave Saturday instead.” My parents were the ones who’d insisted we stay a week. Vivian’s work gave me a good excuse to cut out early. “We’re taking my jet, and we’ll be staying at my parents’ villa. It’s not a big deal. We’re going to Bali, for fuck’s sake. Everyone wants to go to Bali.”