King of Wrath: Chapter 31

“We found all of them.”

I stilled. “Are you sure?”

I’d almost let Christian’s call roll to voicemail. I wanted to enjoy my last night in Paris with Vivian, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me. He wouldn’t call unless he had a major update.

I was right.

“Yes. We have eyes on all eight locations,” Christian said. “Just say the word, and you’ll be free of the Laus forever.”

My hand closed tight around my phone. I waited for the relief to rush in.

The joy, the triumph, the fucking vindication now that I could take down Francis the way I’d dreamed of for months.

Nothing came.

Instead, my stomach hollowed like Christian’s words had sucked all the air out of it.

I glanced through the doorway at Vivian. I stood outside the restaurant’s entrance, far enough she couldn’t hear what I was saying but close enough to glimpse her soft, content smile as she gazed out at the city.

A burn radiated in my chest. She looked so fucking happy. Even with the last-minute trip and the upcoming Legacy Ball, she’d come alive in Paris in a way that made me want to stay here with her forever.

No blackmail, no Francis, no society bullshit. Just us.

Because this was, most likely, our last trip together.

“Dante?” Christian prompted.

I tore my eyes away from Vivian. “I heard you.” The onset of a migraine crawled behind my temples. “What about the business side?”

“Also ready to go.”

“Good.” The sentiment scraped past my tight throat. “And our other project? With the startup?”

I was stalling. I should’ve given Christian the go-ahead the second he confirmed we found all of Francis’s backups, but something prevented the words from reaching my tongue.

“Heath’s company has run into some trouble.” Satisfaction filled Christian’s drawl. “The software has been plagued with issues lately.

Employees are nervous. Investors are spooked. IPO looks dead in the water.

It’s deeply unfortunate.”

“Very.”

I recognized the hypocrisy, considering what Christian and I had planned would push her away forever, but I didn’t give a fuck. I’d never been logical when it came to her. She was my one spark of selfishness in a lifetime of reason.

“Honestly, it was so easy it was almost boring.” Christian yawned.

“Now that that’s out of the way, what do you want me to do about Francis?”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to.

I heard the heaviness of his pause over the line. “Let me remind you this is what you’ve been working toward for eight months,” he said. “The man blackmailed you and threatened your brother’s life.”

“I’m well aware,” I snapped.

I pushed a hand through my hair, trying to think through the pressure squeezing my skull.

The hypothetical sequence of events following my go-ahead played before my mind’s eye like a movie on fast forward.

Christian destroys the evidence and torpedoes Lau Jewels. Vivian hears the news about her family’s livelihood going up in flames. I tell her the truth about the blackmail. She leaves…

The pressure spread to my chest.

Fuck. If I had a heart attack in the middle of the Eiffel Tower while on a call with Christian, I’d never hear the end of it.

“Your call, Russo.” His voice turned impatient. “What’s our next move?”

He didn’t say it, but I heard the warning in his voice. He knew exactly why I was hesitating, and he was less than impressed.

I closed my eyes. My migraine pounded with increasing ferocity.

I’m not my family.

The man blackmailed you and threatened your brother’s life.

Say the word, and you’ll be free of the Laus forever.

I had to get rid of the blackmail. No matter my feelings for Vivian, it was my brother’s life on the line, and I couldn’t risk those photos leaking.

Romano would skin him alive if he found out Luca had touched any woman in his family, much less his beloved niece.

If I destroyed the blackmail, there was nothing keeping me from taking vengeance on Francis. I could let bygones be bygones, but he didn’t deserve it.

“Next time you see your brother, you should tell him to be more careful.” Francis had the smile of a snake who’d just come across trapped prey. “I would hate for these photos to get into Romano’s hands.”

I didn’t touch the folder on my desk. I’d seen enough. I didn’t need to go through every fucking picture.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy, so I won’t take up any more of your time.” Francis stood and smoothed a hand over his tie. “Think about what I said. A marriage with my daughter would be quite beneficial, especially for the…longevity of your family.” His smile widened, revealing sharp incisors.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

The memory dredged up every emotion from that meeting and poured them into the pit of my stomach.

The shock. The disbelief. The fucking rage at both my brother and the bastard who’d had the balls to show up uninvited to my office and blackmail me.

No, Francis Lau didn’t deserve any mercy from me.

I turned my back to the dining room. Cold finality settled in my chest as I made my decision.

“Take him down.”

After I hung up, I returned to dinner and tried my best to act normal. Vivian didn’t say anything at the restaurant, but when we returned to our hotel, she cast a concerned look at me.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “You’ve been quiet since the call.”

“Everything’s fine.” I shrugged off my jacket and avoided her eyes.

“Just annoyed it interrupted our dinner.”

“It was still a good dinner.” She sighed and sat on the bed with a dreamy smile. “I’ll dream of that dessert for the rest of my life.”

“The dessert and not me? I’m offended.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Not everything revolves around you, Dante.”

“It should.” I smiled at the way her nose scrunched even as my heart twisted.

On the surface, our banter was playful as always. But a clock ticked beneath the lightheartedness, audible only to me as it counted down our moments together.

I should tell her the truth. If not now, then when we landed in New York. She’d find out sooner or later, and I wanted her to hear it from me.

But the thought of telling her about the blackmail and shattering the last idealistic notions she had of her father, of confessing to what I’d authorized Christian to do…it tore at me like a knife in the chest.

These were our last moments together, and I was selfish enough to hoard them to myself.

Vivian let out a breathless laugh when I pushed her onto her back and straddled her, my movements gentle enough she landed with a soft thud rather than something more jarring.

She stared up at me, her earlier mock annoyance melting into a smile that made my heart ache.

“Last night in France.” I lowered my head so my lips grazed hers with each word. “I wonder how we should spend it…”

“Well, I’d originally planned to take a long bath, read, maybe put on that face mask you said makes me look like Jason from Friday the 13th…”

Vivian mused, her eyes glinting with laughter and banked heat. “But perhaps you have a better idea.”

“I might.” I placed a soft kiss on her mouth as I slowly unzipped her dress. The silky material slackened, and I gently lifted her so I could ease off the rest of her clothes.

Normally, I would’ve been too impatient to go this slow, but tonight, I let my touch linger on every curve and dip. I mapped her body with my mouth and hands, caressing her breasts through her bra and tugging her underwear off with my teeth, inch by torturous inch, until she whimpered with frustration.

“Dante, please,” she breathed, her skin flushed with pleasure even though I’d barely touched her yet.

My groan vibrated against her skin. I wanted to drag this night out as long as possible, but I couldn’t deny her anything. Not when she was looking at me with those eyes and pleading with me in that voice.

I tossed her underwear to the side and took in the perfect sight in front of me. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

She whimpered again when I gently scraped my teeth over her clit.

Once, twice, letting her warm up to the sensation before I drew the sensitive bud into my mouth and sucked.

Vivian’s escalating cries were music to my ears as I brought her to her first orgasm of the night. I could listen to her forever—the soft moans, the little gasps and whimpers and the way she called my name when she came on my tongue. It was the sweetest, dirtiest symphony I’d ever heard.

She was still coming down from her high when I slid inside her.

Another groan climbed up my throat at how tight and wet she was. Her body fit mine the way the ocean hugged the shore—naturally, effortlessly, perfectly.

I held still, kissing my way up her neck and capturing her mouth in a kiss before I started moving.

Vivian’s sighs of pleasure vibrated through my body as I glided in and out of her in a slow, sensual rhythm.

It took all my willpower to maintain an unhurried pace when she felt so fucking perfect, but I wanted to savor every second.

Eventually, however, my control slipped, and I picked up my pace. I bit back a curse when she arched into me, taking me deeper still.

“Faster,” she begged, her voice breathy with desire. “Please. ”

I gritted my teeth, my muscles taut with the strain of holding back my release. Sweat beaded along my forehead.

“Se sapessi il potere che hai su di me,” I said, my voice ragged.

I paused for a second before I gripped her hips and gave her what she asked for, fucking into her harder and faster until her nails dug grooves in my back.

Vivian’s eyes were half-closed, her cheeks flushed with pleasure and her lips half-parted as moan after moan poured out.

She looked so beautiful I almost couldn’t believe she was real.

My gaze lingered on her face, trying to imprint every detail to memory before I kissed her again. I swallowed her cry of release as she clamped around me.

I held on for another minute before my control finally snapped and my own orgasm washed through me in a hot, blinding rush.

“Well,” Vivian breathed after I rolled onto my side next to her. “That was definitely more fun than a bath.”

I chuckled even as guilt edged back into my consciousness and carved a hole in my chest. “My ego thanks you for the confirmation.”

“Tell it you’re welcome.” She yawned and snuggled closer to me, draping one arm and leg over my body. “This was the perfect last night,”

she murmured. “We should…” Another yawn. “Come to Paris more often.

Next time…” A third yawn. “Let’s go to the…”

Her drowsy voice trailed off into silence. I pressed my lips to the top of her head as her breaths slowed into a deep, even rhythm.

I tried to sleep, but the heavy ache in my chest left me restless.

Instead, I stared at the ceiling, counting her breaths, wondering how many more we had left before everything fell apart.

It would take Christian one day to destroy the evidence. One or two for Francis to realize what happened, depending on how closely he monitored the backup sites. And a couple more for the effects of the business takedown to be noticeable.

Realistically, I could tell Vivian the truth when we landed in New York.

I’d rather her hear it from me than her father, who would undoubtedly try to twist things in a way that made him look like the victim.

But… fuck. I couldn’t drop a bombshell on her just like that. At the same time, I couldn’t pretend everything was okay and allow her in even more than I already had. Not when our break was inevitable.

Other people spent years trying to get close to me. Vivian didn’t even have to try. Every minute we spent together was another chip away at my defenses, whether she knew it or not.

If I let her father off the hook, I could maybe salvage what we had.

Even if she found he was a piece of shit, she was too loyal to her family to forgive me for destroying them. And if she was, by some miracle, okay with me taking down her father, could our relationship survive the aftermath? I damn sure wasn’t going to sit across from the Laus at Thanksgiving every year and make nice, and I doubt they’d welcome me, anyway.

I couldn’t keep her, and I couldn’t let her go.

Not yet.

I closed my eyes, trying to find the best way out of this clusterfuck.

Logic told me I’d already stolen my moments with her tonight and that I needed to distance myself before I fell any deeper. Emotion told me to fuck logic and tell it to shove its reason up its ass.

My head or my heart. One of them would win.

I just didn’t know which one.