Coldhearted King: Chapter 1

I lean on the hotel balcony’s railing, my forearms braced on top, my hands hanging loosely. A mild breeze cools my sweat-damp skin, which, along with the rumpled sheets of the king-size bed behind me, bears testament to the activity that’s occupied me for the last few hours. This high up, the normal sounds of New York City—music, shouts, the occasional siren, the honking of car horns—are muted, much like the stars, which can barely be seen through the haze of illumination cast by the sprawling urban jungle below.

From here, I can see King Plaza, the fifty-three-story office tower which houses the global headquarters of the King Group. The lights glimmering in the windows reveal that many of our people are still at work, even this late on a Friday night. A glow from the corner of the highest floor shows that Roman, my older brother by five years—thirty-six to my thirty-one—is there too.

Hardly a surprise.

“Hey,” a low, feminine voice purrs behind me. Soft breasts press against my shirtless back as slender arms wrap around my chest. “How about you come back to bed so I can take your mind off whatever it’s on?”

I don’t bother turning. “I thought you’d gone.”

The tension in Jessica’s body says she isn’t happy with what I’ve said. But she persists, trailing her fingers down my stomach toward the waistband of the black boxer briefs I’d pulled on after I climbed out of the bed fifteen minutes ago.

My dick twitches, but I’ve already come twice tonight, which means I can easily ignore my biological reaction to being touched by a naked woman. And it annoys me she’s still here, because she knows how this works.

I keep my eyes on King Plaza. “I’ll call you next time I need a date.”

Jessica curls her fingers, her nails pricking my skin. “You’re an asshole.” Her tone has cooled, but she’s holding back the anger she’s so obviously feeling. I’m used to it. Since I’m one of the richest men in the country, people tend to disguise their true emotions around me.

Although, in Jessica’s case, she has her own wealth. What keeps her from unleashing her anger on me is that she likes how I fuck her a little too much to piss me off.

Her arms drop from around me and she steps back. That’s when I finally turn and take her in. Aside from the pout on her face, she’s completely naked, and apparently unconcerned about being exposed on the balcony. This is one of the sub-penthouse suites hotel management keeps permanently available for the King family—one benefit of being the owners—so we’re high up. But the paparazzi still occasionally manage to get a photo of one of us up here. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

I’m sure Jessica won’t have a problem if she gets her photo in a tabloid or two, even if her father would be less than impressed. She’s gorgeous in a way only money can make you—every inch polished, styled, and enhanced to perfection. At this stage, I’m not even sure her personality is real. Not that I’m complaining. She made a very pretty picture as my date to the awards ceremony tonight, and an even prettier picture bouncing on my dick for the last couple of hours.

We’re done now, though, and having her here is grating on my nerves.

I need her gone.

When I step forward, she must think I’m responding to the doe-eyed expression she’s giving me, because a satisfied smirk curls her plump lips. It disappears when I reach for the tumbler of whiskey on the table behind her. “I have to get some work done.”

A frown mars her perfect face for a split second before she gives a casual shrug and a fake smile. “Sure. I’ll go back downstairs and find someone else who wants to keep the party going.”

If it’s an effort to make me jealous, she should know better—I’m not the type. I can’t imagine why anyone is. And that goes for men and women. Maybe that means there’s something intrinsic missing from my psyche, some fundamental aspect of human nature that I don’t quite grasp. Or maybe jealousy is something that some people are simply more prone to than others.

“You should. The night’s still young.” I move past her, see her red lace thong hanging over a lamp, and hand it to her.

I’m not a complete asshole.

Jessica finally realizes I’m not about to change my mind. She takes her panties and slides them up her long legs. Her movements are jerky, but she quickly makes them smooth and seductive when she catches me watching. I might not want her to stay, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy the show.

She’s soon dressed and combing her fingers through her long blonde hair as I walk her to the door. I open it for her, and she breezes past me, her perfume diluted from our long night but still strong enough to tickle the back of my nose. She pivots when she reaches the hallway leading to the private elevator. “Call me next time you need a date, or . . . anything.”

I nod. “I will.”

Once she’s gone, I shut the door, stretch, crack my neck, and make my way to the shower. After stepping into the hot spray, I rinse the sweat and Jessica’s perfume off me. My mind moves to the meeting with my father and brothers tomorrow. We’re expanding our empire even more. After months of pre-development work, we’ve just publicly announced our latest project. We’re known globally for our large-scale commercial developments and luxury hotels, and now we’re moving into the more competitive mid-range accommodation sector. As chief investment officer for the King Group, it’s something I’ve been pushing for over the last couple of years.

As I step out of the shower, my phone rings. It’s Roman. I answer it with one hand while I snag a towel with my other. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

I rub the towel over my wet hair while I wait to see what the emergency is. There must be something wrong. I can’t imagine why he’d call me otherwise, since we mostly limit our contact to the office.

“Dad’s been arrested,” he says without preamble, his voice as cold and unaffected as it always is these days.

It takes a second for the meaning of his words to sink in. I stop toweling off. “What the fuck for?” My mind immediately goes to a DUI. Dad does like a drink or ten. But he has a driver. Why would he be behind the wheel?

“Insider trading.”

Shock courses through me. “What the hell?” Dad has always been a risk taker, in business and in his personal life; I know that all too well. Insider trading, though? That’s a whole new level of illegal.

“I’ve spoken to the lawyers. Allegedly, he’s been using information from one of his government contacts to buy and sell stocks and putting the profits into a bank in the Caymans. He’s been taken into custody and is being held until his bail hearing tomorrow. But the lawyers say it’ll most likely be denied, since they’ll consider him a flight risk.”

Not surprising, considering he owns a fleet of private jets. “Did he do it?”

“He’s pleading innocent. But if you’re asking my opinion, let’s just say I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Fuck.” I throw the towel into the hamper. “We need to manage the situation before it goes public.”

“Exactly.” Roman lets out a harsh breath. “The SEC will be investigating, and the King Group is going to be under a microscope until they can determine if Dad used company funds and if anyone else was involved. I’ll get in touch with Tate after this, and I want you both to come to the office straight away. We need to call an emergency board meeting. The three of us have majority shares, so we can take control and limit the damage . . . but we have to act now.”

I make my way out of the bathroom and locate my clothes, putting the phone on speaker as I dress. My mind works over the implications. The King Group will be under fire, and the press will be all over us. Our reputation will take a serious hit, and our share value could plummet unless we get ahead of this.

“We’ll get the lawyers to file the paperwork to make a change of leadership official,” Roman continues. “I’ll take over as CEO, and I need you to step into my position as COO. I plan to remove Peters and put Tate in his place as chief marketing officer so we can manage the narrative going forward.”

“Makes sense,” I say as I button my shirt. The next few weeks will be critical in ensuring the stability of the company and maintaining investor confidence once news of Dad’s arrest becomes public.

“The lawyers are already on their way, so get your ass over here ASAP and be prepared for a long night. We need to make sure everything is in place by tomorrow morning.” He hangs up without another word.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I shrug on the suit jacket I’d stripped off and thrown over the back of a chair only a few hours ago. Getting the company past this unscathed will require me and my brothers to work together more closely than we have in a long time. Considering how strained the relationship between the three of us has become over the years, I only hope we can manage it.

I grab my phone and head toward the door. It’s time to put our differences aside and focus on protecting the company, whatever the cost. The King Group is the only thing that matters. And at this stage, our shared dedication to it is all that’s holding this family together.