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

Dante’s smile was terrifying in its calmness. “You can try.”

He tightened his grip on Heath’s shirt, his knuckles already bruised from the force of his punch.

The air sharpened with fresh, impending violence, enough that it finally yanked me out of my frozen stupor.

“Stop.” I found my voice right as Dante drew his arm back for another punch. “Let him go.”

He didn’t move.

“Now.”

A heavy beat passed before he released Heath, who slumped on the floor, coughing and clutching his nose. Judging by the crack earlier, it had to be broken, but I found it hard to summon sympathy after dealing with him for the past two hours.

“This is not a school playground,” I said. “You’re both grown men. Act like it.”

My day had been shitty enough. First, someone spilled coffee all over my brand-new, white Theory dress during my morning latte run. Then, I found out a pipe had burst at the Legacy Ball’s original venue. The place was flooded and would take months to repair, which meant I had three months to find and move all gala preparations to a new venue that would 1) be available on such short notice 2) fit within my budget, and 3) have the space and grandeur necessary to host five hundred extremely discerning, extremely judgmental guests.

I came home hoping to relax, only to have Heath show up at the door rambling about a text I supposedly sent him, telling him I wanted to reconcile.

Now, my fiancé and ex-boyfriend were at each other’s throats, and there was blood dripping everywhere.

Needless to say, my sympathy reserves were at an all-time low.

“Heath, you should go and get your nose looked at.” Every second he and Dante stayed in the same room was another opportunity for more trouble.

I’d go with him to the hospital, but considering Dante’s current mood, offering to leave with him would hurt more than it helped.

Heath looked at me, his eyes tortured. “Viv…”

A rumble of warning emanated from Dante’s chest.

“Go,” I said. “Please.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Dante’s death glare had him scrambling up and out of the room without another word.

I waited until I heard the front door slam before I whirled on the other infuriating, migraine-inducing man in my life.

“What is wrong with you? You can’t just go around punching people! You probably broke his nose!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Dante said, the picture of remorselessness. “He deserved it.”

A headache gathered behind my temples.

“No, you can’t. Newsflash, having money doesn’t absolve you from consequences. There’s a…a proper way of doing things that doesn’t include violence. You’re lucky if he doesn’t sue you for assault.”

”I’m lucky?” Dante growled. “He’s lucky I didn’t break more than his nose for coming into my house and trying to wreck our engagement.”

“I’m not saying he’s right. I’m saying there was a better way to handle the situation than opening yourself up to an assault charge!”

Dante had enough lawyers and money to shake such a charge off like it was nothing, but that wasn’t the point. It was the principle of the matter.

“He was touching you.” Dante’s eyes darkened to midnight. “Did you want him to touch you?”

Oh, for God’s sake.

“You don’t get to do that,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to storm in and act like a jealous fiancé when you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. I tried to talk to you about Heath after the flowers. You refused and ran off to D.C.”

His lips thinned. “I haven’t been ignoring you, and I did not run off to D.C.”

“You gave me the cold shoulder, avoided eye and verbal contact, and communicated in caveman grunts or via a third party at most. That’s the textbook definition of ignoring.”

Dante stared at me, his face like granite.

Frustration bubbled in my chest and rose up my throat.

“You open up, then you shut down. You kiss me, then you leave. We’ve been doing this back-and-forth dance for months, and I’m sick of it.” I lifted my chin, my heart wavering beneath an onslaught of nerves. “I just want to know, once and for all. Is this still only business, or is it more?”

A muscle flexed in Dante’s jaw. “It doesn’t matter. We’re getting married either way.”

“It does matter. I’m not playing this game with you anymore.” My frustration morphed into anger, turning my words into blades. “If this is business, we’ll treat it as such. We’ll produce an heir, smile for the cameras in public, and live our lives separately in private. That’s it.”

It wasn’t the life I would’ve chosen, but I was in too deep to back out now. At least then, I’d know where we stand and adjust my expectations accordingly.

No more overanalyzing every crumb of intimacy, searching for something that wasn’t there. No more hanging onto the hopes Dante would change and I’d be one of the lucky ones whose arranged marriage turned into love.

“Live our lives separately in private?” Dante’s voice dropped to a dangerous decibel. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. We do what we want, discreetly, and we don’t question the other about it as long as it doesn’t affect our…public image.”