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

I wished there was a definitive guidebook out there for this type of thing. I would pay good money for it.

I would’ve stayed in the park longer, but the previously blue skies suddenly darkened. The wind picked up, and storm clouds gathered overhead, threatening rain.

I quickly joined the other people streaming toward the exit, but I only made it a quarter of the way before rain gushed down, heavy and sudden, like the heavens were dumping buckets of water over the side of a balcony.

Jagged lightning slashed across the sky, accompanied by deafening crashes of thunder.

A curse escaped when I stepped into a puddle and almost slipped. Water plastered my clothes to my skin, and I tried not to think about how transparent my white shirt must be right now.

It’d been such a beautiful day minutes ago, but that was the unpredictability of a New York spring.

One second, it was blue skies and sunshine. The next, it was storming like the world was ending.





CHAPTER 34





Vivian & Dante





VIVIAN

On Monday, I picked up takeout from the Moondust Diner and brought it to Dante’s office for lunch. A burger and his favorite black and white shake for him; a chicken sandwich and a strawberry shake for me.

It was a throwback to our first date and an olive branch on my part. Dante was the one who needed to extend the branch, but if I shut down whenever he shut down, we’d never get anywhere. I didn’t want us to be one of those couples who stewed in passive-aggressive silence.

Plus, there had to be a good reason why Dante was acting so weird, and I was determined to find out what it was.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lau.” Stacey, the receptionist for the Russo Group’s executive floor, greeted me with a bright smile.

“Hi, Stacey. I brought some lunch for Dante.” I held up the paper bags. “Is he in his office?”

It was my first time showing up unannounced at his workplace. He could’ve eaten lunch already, but knowing him, he hadn’t. If we didn’t eat together, he was likely to skip his afternoon meals altogether.

“Yes, but he’s in a meeting,” she said after a brief moment of hesitation. “I’m not sure when he’ll be out.”

“That’s all right. I can wait for him in the guest lounge.”

I could easily answer emails and check in with the wedding vendors on my phone while I waited. The Legacy Ball was my top priority for now, but once it was over, I needed to double down on wedding prep.

“Are you sure?” Stacey sounded doubtful.

When I reassured her I was okay with waiting, she relented.

The floor had emptied for lunch, and my flats fell softly on white marble as I made my way through the office.

The Russo Group’s corporate headquarters was a study in sleek modernity mixed with Old World elegance. Black lacquer and glass reflected ornate gold accents and gilt-framed paintings; lush flowers blossomed next to sculptural stoneware painted in varying neutral shades.

The guest lounge sat at the far end of the floor, but I only made it halfway when I heard a familiar voice—one that didn’t belong to Dante.

My stride broke a few feet outside Dante’s office. The tinted windows prevented me from seeing inside, but the tense conversation within bled through the door.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.” My father’s harsh timbre skated down my spine, leaving trails of ice in its wake.

If the rest of the floor hadn’t been so quiet, I wouldn’t have been able to hear him. As it stood, his words came through faint but clear.

My heart picked up pace. I’d planned to check on him later as Agnes had suggested, but I never would’ve guessed he would be here. Right now, in Dante’s office, without so much as a warning or notice.

My father rarely visited New York during the work week, and he never dropped in without telling me either before or right after he landed.

So what was he doing here on a random Monday afternoon?

“I know precisely what I’ve done,” Dante drawled. Low. Dark. Deadly. “The last time you showed up uninvited, you had the upper hand. You used my brother to get to me. I’ve simply evened the scales.”

His brother. Luca.

My stomach hollowed. What had my father done?

“No, you haven’t. You didn't find all of them.” Despite his confident delivery, my father’s voice dipped toward the end. It was a nervous tic I’d picked up on when I was a teenager.

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” Dante said, sounding at once amused and indifferent. “You would’ve run to Romano with one of your backups. Yet you took the time out of your busy workday to fly to New York and see me. It doesn’t scream upper hand anymore, Francis. It screams pathetic.” A small rustle. “I suggest you return to Boston and deal with your company instead of embarrassing yourself further. I’ve heard it could use some help.”

A long silence followed, punctuated by the rapid thuds of my heart.

“You’re responsible for the fake reports.” Realization, fury, and a hint of panic rolled beneath my father’s accusation, threatening to split it apart at the seams.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dante’s tone maintained its indifference. “But it seems serious. All the more reason for you to leave and get a handle on things before the press catches wind of it. You know how…vicious they can get once they scent blood.”