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

The pleasure edged out the surprise.

I searched the extravagant blooms until I found a tiny card with my name written on the front. I flipped it over, and my stomach plummeted.

“It’s not from Dante.”

“Then who’s it…oh.” Isabella’s eyes widened when I showed her the note.

Vivian,

Happy belated new year. I thought of you at midnight but didn’t have the guts to send you this until now. Hope you’re doing well.

Love, Heath.

P.S. I’m here if you ever change your mind.

A cocktail of disappointment, unease, and confusion brewed in my stomach. Save for a Merry Christmas text, I hadn’t talked to Heath since the flea market. His sending me flowers made even less sense than Dante sending them.

“Love, Heath.” Isabella wrinkled her nose. “First, he shows up in New York and coincidentally runs into you, now this. Man needs to move on. You’ve been broken up for years, and you—”

“Who’s Heath?” The black velvet voice wrenched my gaze to the entrance.

Charcoal suit. Broad shoulders. Expression as dark as his voice.

My pulse skittered into overdrive.

Dante stood in the doorway, brown paper bag in hand, his eyes glinting like shards of volcanic glass against the soft roses.

His body held dangerously still, like the calm before a storm.

“Um…” I slid a panicked look at Isabella, who hopped off the desk and scooped her bag up from the floor.

“Well, this was fun, but I gotta go,” she chirped in an overly bright voice. “Monty gets cranky if I don’t feed him on time.”

Traitor, my glare screamed.

Sorry, she mouthed. Good luck.

I was never letting her work in my office again.

She brushed past Dante with an awkward pat on his arm, and I watched, stomach twisting, as he walked toward me and set the paper bag next to the bouquet.

He flipped the note and read it wordlessly, his jaw ticking in rhythm with each passing second.

“It’s a New Year’s gift,” I said when the silence became too oppressive to bear. “Like the champagne glasses my mom bought us.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I hadn’t cheated on Dante or purposely sought out Heath myself. I had nothing to feel guilty about.

Still, my nerves rattled like wind chimes in a tornado.

“These aren’t champagne glasses, mia cara.” Dante dropped the note the way one would a diseased carcass. “Nor are they from your mother, which brings me back to my question. Who is Heath?”

I inhaled a soft breath for courage. “My ex-boyfriend.”

Dante’s eyes sparked. “Your ex-boyfriend.”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to lie, and Dante could probably find out who Heath was with the snap of a finger, anyway.

“Why is your ex-boyfriend sending you roses and love notes?” The velvety tone didn’t change, but the undercurrent of danger rippled closer to the surface.

“It’s not a love note.”

“It damn well looks like one to me.” If Dante ground his teeth any harder, they’d crumble into dust. “What does he mean by change your mind?”

“I told him about our engagement a few months ago.” If I was telling the truth, I might as well tell the whole truth. “He showed up in New York and implied he’d be open to giving our relationship another shot. I declined. He left. The end.”

Dante’s eyes were near-black now. “Obviously not the end, given this lovely bouquet he sent you.”

“It’s just flowers.” I understood why he was upset, but he was making it into something bigger than it was. “They’re harmless.”

“Some fucker is sending you flowers, and you want to tell me it’s harmless?” He picked up the card again. “Thought of you at midnight. Hope you’re doing well. Love, Heath.” Sarcasm weighed heavy on the recitation. “It doesn’t take a genius to know what he was doing while he was thinking of you at midnight.”

Frustration overrode my misplaced guilt. “I can’t control what other people do or say. I told him I wasn’t interested in getting back together, and I’ll tell him again if he persists. What do you want me to do? Get a restraining order against him?”

“Now that’s an excellent idea.”

“That’s a ridiculous idea.”

“Do you still love him?”

The question came from so out of left field I could only gape at him until I rustled up the only word I could find. “What?”

“Do you still love him?” The ticking jaw returned with vengeance.

“We broke up years ago.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

I shifted beneath Dante’s heavy stare.

Did I still love Heath? I cared for him, and I missed the easy rapport we had. Our breakup had devastated me.

But I wasn’t the same person I’d been when we were dating, and time had dulled my heartbreak into a distant echo of what it once was.

When I thought of Heath, I thought of the comfort of being loved. I didn’t necessarily think of him.

But if I didn’t have to marry Dante, and I could go back to Heath without alienating my parents, would I do it?

My head pounded with indecision.

“It doesn’t matter,” I finally said. “I’m engaged to you, and I’m not getting back together with Heath.”