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

Instead of strangling him like I wanted, I smoothed a casual hand over my tie. “Compared to your pining? It’s fucking paradise.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t pine.”

“No. You simply slash the rent for everyone who wants to live in your building for no good reason.”

He wasn’t the only one who kept tabs on the people in his circle.

As a computer genius, owner of a luxury building in D.C., and the CEO of Harper Security, an elite private security firm, Christian had eyes and ears everywhere.

He knew about Francis’s blackmail. Hell, he was the one I’d tasked with tracking down and destroying the evidence.

He was also an asshole who got off on seeing how far he could push people. Some pushed back. Most didn’t.

Unfortunately for him, I was one of the few who called him out on his bullshit without hesitation.

“I’m not here to discuss my business decisions with you,” he said coldly. If anything could rile up the normally composed Christian, it was the mention, however indirect, of a certain tenant in his building. “I’m here to celebrate this exciting new chapter of your life.” He lifted his glass. “A toast to you and Vivian. May you have a long, happy life together.”

“Fuck off.”

The bastard laughed in response, but the mention of Vivian unwittingly brought my eyes to where she stood chatting with an elegant older couple. She’d been the consummate hostess all day, mingling and charming the guests until I couldn’t take two steps without someone gushing to me about how lovely she was.

It was galling.

My eyes lingered on the sweep of hair cascading over her shoulder and the swirl of silk around her knees. Her parents were here, but she wasn’t wearing tweed, thank God. Instead, she wore an ivory dress that flowed over her curves and made my pulse pound.

Short sleeves, modest neck, elegant cut.

The dress wasn’t racy by any means, but the way she glowed in it—the way her skin looked smoother than the silk and the way the skirt ruffled in the breeze—made my blood burn a little hotter.

Vivian laughed at something the couple said. Her whole face lit up, and I realized I’d never seen her genuine, unguarded smile before. No sarcasm or prim facade, just sparkling eyes, rosy cheeks, and an airy lightness that transformed her from beautiful to stunning.

Awareness kindled in my chest, hot and unwanted.

“Should I come back after you’ve finished ogling her?” Christian swirled the ice in his glass. “I don’t want to intrude on a private moment.”

“I’m not ogling her.” I dragged my eyes away from Vivian, but her presence remained a tangible heat on my skin. I tried to shake it off to no avail. “Enough bullshit. Give me an update on the project.”

He sobered. “Business operations are going as planned. The other situation is progressing, but not as quickly as we’d hoped.”

The pieces were falling in place for Francis’s business takedown, but we were still stalled on the evidence front.

Dammit.

“Just get it done before the wedding. Keep me updated.”

“I always do.” The amused glint in Christian’s eyes returned when he looked over my shoulder. “Incoming.”

I sensed her before I saw her. The sound of her heels, the smell of her perfume, the soft rustle of fabric against skin.

I drained my drink in one long pull as Vivian came up beside me.

“Apologies for interrupting.” She touched my arm and smiled at Christian, playing the role of apologetic fiancée perfectly. My skin tingled beneath her hand, and I almost shook her off before I remembered where we were. Engagement party. Loving couple. Pretend. “I need to steal Dante for a moment. Mode de Vie would like a photo for their wedding feature.”

“Of course,” Christian drawled. “Have fun.”

One day, I’d pay him back for all the crap he gave me about Vivian.

I followed her to the photo setup, where Francis waited with Cecelia, Vivian’s sister Agnes, and Agnes’s husband. My brother stood off to the side, his eyes glued to his phone while the photographer fiddled with his camera.

Something dangerous uncoiled in my chest.

I’d avoided Francis all day. He didn’t deserve my attention in public, which would only elevate his status, and I didn’t need more temptation to commit murder.

Apparently, my run had come to an end.

“You didn’t tell me this was a family photo.” The word family came out with an acerbic bite.

“I didn’t realize it mattered.” Vivian slid a sideways glance at me. “I asked Mode de Vie to wait until everyone was together, but they specifically wanted a photo from the party. However, they agreed to take another one with your parents whenever they’re stateside.”

I almost laughed at the insinuation I was upset over my parents’ absence. I couldn’t remember the last time Giovanni and Janis Russo showed up for one of their kids’ milestones.

“I’ll survive without a photo of our big, happy family,” I said, my tone dry.

I took my place in front of the camera as far away from Francis as possible. When the photographer gave us the go-ahead, I wrapped my arm around Vivian’s waist and forced a tight smile.

God, I hated photoshoots.

Luckily, this one didn’t require a kiss, and we got the shot in less than five minutes. Vivian’s friends pulled her away after for some reason or other while Luca turned to me.