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

Luca’s grin disappeared.

“Because you’ve protected me my whole life,” he said quietly. “And it’s time I returned the favor.”

I blamed the burn in my heart on the alcohol. “That’s what my security team is for.”

“Not from other people. From yourself.” Luca nodded at the half-empty bottle still loosely clasped in my hand. “Don’t let your pursuit of wrath ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Yeah, figuring things out with Vivian will be hard, but you’ve always been a fighter. So fucking fight.”





CHAPTER 36





Vivian





The Wednesday after I moved out of Dante’s house, I chartered a flight to Boston. According to my mom, whom I’d called under the guise of discussing wedding arrangements, my father was already back home.

I’d spent the plane ride rehearsing what I would say. But as I sat across from him in his office, listening to the clock tick and the shallow cadence of my breaths, I realized no amount of rehearsal could’ve prepared me for confronting my father.

Silence stretched between us for another minute before he leaned back and raised a bushy, gray-tipped brow. “What’s the emergency, Vivian? I assume you have something important you’d like to discuss if you showed up unannounced like this.”

He was the one who had something to apologize for, but his stern voice sent a knee-jerk spiral of shame through me. It was the same voice he’d used whenever I received anything less than a perfect test score. I tried not to let it affect me, but it was hard to overcome decades of conditioning.

“Yes, I do.” I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders, trying to summon the fire from two days ago. All I managed were a few puffs of smoke.

It was much easier to rant at my father in my head than in real life.

Part of the reason was how exhausted he looked. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes while lines of worry formed deep crags and crevices across his face.

News articles had started popping up about trouble at Lau Jewels. Nothing major yet, just a few whispers here and there, but they were a sign of the storm to come. The office buzzed with nervous energy, and stock values had dipped.

An unreasonable pang of guilt pierced my gut.

My father was responsible for this mess. I shouldn’t feel guilty for calling him out on it, no matter how tired or stressed he was.

“Well?” he said impatiently. “I already pushed back a meeting for this. I’m not going to postpone it again. If you don’t have anything to say now, we’ll discuss it over din—”

“Did you blackmail Dante into marrying me?” I blurted out the question before I lost my nerve.

My heart slammed against my ribcage as my father’s expression hardened into an unreadable mold.

The clock continued its deafening march toward the half hour.

“I overheard you. In Dante’s office.” I clutched the purse in my lap for support. I wasn’t wearing tweed or neutrals today. Instead, I’d opted for a custom-tailored silk sheath and an extra coat of red lipstick for confidence. I should’ve put on two extra coats.

“If you overheard, then why waste my time by asking?” My father’s tone was as indecipherable as his face.

An ember of anger sparked to life.

“Because I want you to confirm it! Blackmail is illegal, Father, not to mention morally wrong. How could you do that?” I forced air past my tight chest. “Am I so undesirable you had to force someone into marrying me?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snapped. “It wasn’t anyone. It was Dante Russo. Do you know the doors marrying a Russo would open? Even with our wealth and your sister’s marriage, some people look down on us. They’ll invite us to their parties, and they’ll take our money for fundraisers, but they whisper behind our backs, Vivian. They think we’re not good enough. Marriage to Dante would’ve shut those whispers down immediately.”

“You blackmailed someone because of a few whispers?” I asked disbelievingly.

My father had always been conscious of his appearance and reputation. Even before we were rich, he’d stretch our budget and insist on paying for the table during get-togethers with his friends so he didn’t lose face.

But I never could’ve guessed his need for social validation ran this deep.

“The opportunity arose, and I took it,” he said coolly. “His brother was foolish and reckless. What were the chances I’d catch him with Gabriele Romano’s niece during a visit to New York?” An unrepentant shrug. “Fate put him in my path, and I took advantage of it for our family. I won’t apologize for that.”

“You could’ve chosen anyone else.” It was hard to hear over the buzz in my ears, but I pushed forward. “Someone who would’ve willingly agreed to an arranged marriage.”

“Someone who would’ve willingly agreed wouldn’t have been good enough.”

“Do you hear yourself?” The embers fanned into flames. My fury came roaring back, so hot and bright it blurred my father’s face. “These are people’s lives, not toys you can bend and manipulate. What if the photos leaked and Dante’s brother got killed? What if you got killed for holding onto the evidence? How could you be so…” Cruel. Callous. Morally corrupt. “Short-sighted? It’s not—”