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

Francis trembled with outrage, but he wasn’t stupid enough to test me any further. He’d stormed in half an hour ago, full of fire and bravado. Now, he looked as pathetic and powerless as he really was.

He pushed his chair back and left without another word.

The door slammed behind him, rattling the paintings on the wall.

That fucker. He was lucky none of them fell.

I barely had a chance to enjoy the silence before a knock sounded.

For Christ’s sake, what did a guy have to do for some actual quiet and work time?

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing a nervous-looking Stacey. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Russo,” she said. “But your fiancée dropped off lunch for you. I wanted to get it to you while it’s still hot.”

The temperature instantly dropped ten degrees.

A buzz of trepidation crawled over me and snaked into my veins. “My fiancée? When was she here?”

“Maybe ten minutes ago? She said she was going to wait for you in the guest lounge, but she left in a hurry and dropped this at my desk.” Stacey raised two takeout bags in the air. They were stamped with the Moondust Diner’s distinctive black and silver logo.

The buzz turned into a thousand icy needles piercing my skin. Vivian wouldn’t have left without saying hi unless…

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I stood so abruptly I banged my knee against the underside of my desk. I didn’t even register my pain through the rush of blood in my ears.

“Where are you…” Stacey faltered when I yanked my jacket off the back of my desk chair and brushed past her into the hall.

“Have Helena cancel the rest of my in-person meetings today when she gets back.” I forced the words past my tight throat. “I’m working from home for the rest of the day.”

I was already halfway to the exit when she replied.

“What about your food?” she called after me. Stacey sounded panicked, like my missing lunch would be cause for firing her.

“Keep it.” I didn’t give a shit if she ate it, fed it to the pigeons, or used it for performance art in the middle of goddamned Fifth Avenue.

Ten interminable minutes later—that damn elevator moved at the speed of a snail on morphine—I exited the building, my skin clammy and my heartbeat spiking with sudden, indescribable panic.

I didn’t know how, but I knew with bone-deep certainty Vivian was at home instead of her office.

My apartment was only five blocks away. Walking was faster than taking a car, though not necessarily safer. I was so distracted by the dread leaking into my stomach I almost got mowed down twice, once by a foul-mouthed bike messenger and once by a cab taking a corner too fast.

By the time I entered the cool, air-conditioned foyer of my penthouse, my mouth tasted like pennies and a thin sheen of sweat misted my skin.

I shouldn’t be this twisted over the fact Vivian might’ve overheard me talking with her father. Everything I’d said had been the truth, and she would find out sooner or later. Hell, I’d been bracing myself for this moment since Paris.

But there was a difference between theory and reality. And the reality was, when I stopped in the doorway of our room and saw her open suitcase on our bed, I felt like I’d been sucker punched in the gut and dragged over hot coals, all in the space of two minutes.

Vivian walked out of the closet with an armful of clothes. Her steps halted when she saw me, and a painful, breathless silence stretched between us before she moved again.

She dumped her clothes on the bed while I watched, my heart pounding hard enough to bruise.

“Were you going to leave without telling me?” Roughness edged my question.

“I’m doing you a favor.” Vivian didn’t look at me, but her hands shook as she folded and packed her clothes. “I’m saving you from a hard conversation. I heard you, Dante. You don’t want me here. You never wanted me here. So I’m leaving.”

There it was. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. She’d learned the truth, and this was her way of dealing with it.

My hands fisted.

She was right. She was doing me a favor. If she left, no questions asked, she’d sever the last tie I had to the Laus with little to no effort on my part. I could wipe my hands clean of her family and move on.

And yet…

“That’s it? After eight months, after finding out what your father did…” And what I did… “That’s all you have to say?”

Vivian finally looked up. Red rimmed her eyes, but fire flashed in the brown depths.

“What do you want me to say?” she demanded. “Do you want me to ask what my father had on you? To ask whether the past two months meant anything, or if you were just trying to make the most out of a shitty situation until you could get rid of me? Do you want me to tell you how devastating it is to find out your father is…is…” Her voice broke. She turned away, but not before I glimpsed the tear streaking down her cheek.

My chest crushed like ice beneath a speeding truck.

“Do you know how it feels to learn your fiancé was only with you because he was forced into it? To think we were actually getting closer when you secretly hated me? Not that I blame you.” She let out a bitter laugh. “If I were in your position, I would hate me too.”

It took every ounce of effort to swallow past the lump in my throat.