King of Envy: Chapter 27

The morning of Jordan and Ayana’s wedding dawned bright and crisp. Mid-seventies, clear blue skies, golden sun.

It was a cruel twist of fate that the worst day of my life also happened to be one of the most beautiful days New York had seen all year.

I stared out the window, my teeth grinding. Behind me, Jordan and the rest of the groomsmen relaxed and prepped themselves for the upcoming ceremony. It was only an hour away.

An invisible iron band wrapped around my throat and squeezed. I wanted to throw them all off the fucking balcony.

Call off the wedding.

I can’t.

Two weeks had passed since I met Ayana in her hotel suite, and those two words had imprinted themselves on my brain.

I can’t.

Why the fuck not? What was so goddamn important that it was worth throwing her life away on a marriage to a man she didn’t love and who didn’t love her back?

The mystery ate away at me over the weeks and turned my mood so foul no one except Jordan dared step foot near me.

I would’ve pressed Jordan about the issue again, but I couldn’t bear to talk to him unless I had to—both out of resentment for his part in the situation and self-loathing for what I did.

Even now, Ayana’s moans echoed in my ears. Walking away from her when she’d been in tears had almost killed me, but I couldn’t stay. I also couldn’t get a clear answer out of Jordan unless I told him what happened, and that would affect Ayana’s relationship with him as much as it would mine.

So here we were. An hour away from Armageddon.

The pressure in my chest ballooned and nearly suffocated me.

“Vuk.” Jordan’s voice brought my attention back to him. “You ready? It’s almost go time.”

I turned. The sight of him in his wedding finery made my eye twitch.

The other groomsmen had disappeared. I hadn’t noticed them leave, and I couldn’t care less where they went.

It’s a big day.

We were staying at a luxury hotel near the church where the ceremony would be held. There were less than fifty people invited to the actual wedding—mostly members of Jordan’s and Ayana’s families and their closest friends.

The bridal suite was located two floors above us. Ayana was there at this very moment, preparing to wed another man.

A coppery taste filled my mouth. I hadn’t trusted myself to talk to her since our hotel rendezvous. I’d spent the past two weeks trying to find a way out of this mess, but short of kidnapping her, my hands were tied.

And I had thought about the kidnapping angle. Multiple times. If it weren’t for the Brotherhood and the other shit ruining my life, I would’ve even considered it seriously.

“We should be all set.” Jordan seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil. “We need to head down soon to mingle with the guests before the ceremony. T-minus one hour until⁠—”

“You don’t have to marry her.” My words slipped out and landed in a vat of pin-drop silence.

Jordan gaped at me. I couldn’t tell whether he was more shocked by my declaration or the fact I was talking.

I’d communicated verbally with him on and off since my brother died, but I hadn’t said a word after he announced his engagement to Ayana.

He finally closed his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t love her,” I said, “you don’t have to marry her.”

This was my last-ditch attempt to solve things the cordial way. I owed him that much.

But as I looked at him, in his custom tuxedo and fucking boutonnière, I burned with so much envy I almost choked on it.

I wanted to rip that boutonnière off his lapel.

I wanted to demand he tell me why he insisted on going through with this sham of a wedding.

I wanted to march upstairs, grab Ayana, and claim her so thoroughly in front of every damn person in the building, there’d be no doubt left in anyone’s mind that she was mine. Only mine.

A small part of me had been tempted to take her up on her offer of an affair. God knew I craved her enough that I’d take any piece of her I could get.

However, the larger part of me had won out. Not because of morals or my friendship with Jordan, but because I was too fucking selfish to share.

When I said I wanted her, I wanted all of her. Every smile, every tear, every sigh and moan. She consumed me, body and soul, and I refused to settle for anything less in return.

“Jesus. Not this again.” Jordan’s incredulous laugh shook with a hint of nerves. “Who says I don’t love her?”

“Do you?”

He stared at me. A minute ticked by, and it was in that moment that I saw the pieces fall into place for him.

I knew him well, but he knew me too. Sometimes, I forgot that.

He finally understood. Why I was invested in his feelings for Ayana, why I chose to talk about this topic today of all days…It crystallized into a glint in his eyes.

“Vuk.” He painted my name with half horror, half realization.

I jerked my head away and stared out the window again. The seething jealousy inside me reached a full boil. If I kept looking at him, I was going to do something I’d regret.

Jordan came up beside me and looked out at the bustling streets below. A line of cabs crawled past the hotel like an army of yellow ants. “How long?”

I didn’t bother denying what he now knew. We’d reached a point where lies served no further purpose. “Long enough.”

From the moment I heard her laugh on that damn TV program years ago, I’d been a goner. She’d been a new model at the time, but there was something about the way she talked and carried herself that sank its claws into me and refused to let go.

She’d radiated authenticity, and she had the type of smile that made me want to smile too—and I fucking hated smiling.

I thought my reaction had been a fluke. I was still growing Markovic Holdings, and I’d had neither the time nor desire to obsess over a woman I didn’t know.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about her, so I purposely attended the same event as her one night to prove she couldn’t be that captivating in person. Anyone could manufacture a goddess onscreen; selling that lie in real life was harder.

I’d been right. She hadn’t been the same; she’d been better. Brighter, lovelier, realer. I hadn’t approached her, but I’d watched and listened.

After that night, I’d tracked all her appearances and consumed all her interviews. Every new detail I uncovered, from her college study abroad pictures in Ireland to her strange love of knitting, drew me deeper under her thrall. Even after her rise to fame, she maintained that same authenticity.

She was a splash of color in my world of gray, and before I knew it, I was ensnared. There was no way out.

Then Jordan told me about their engagement, and I’d been slowly dying since.

“You never said anything.” His voice was quiet. “We were engaged for a year and a half, and you didn’t say a damn thing. Now you’re telling me to cancel an hour before my wedding?” A twinge of anger mingled with his disbelief.

I faced him. I’d betrayed him in more ways than one, but he hadn’t been honest with me either. “I didn’t tell you because I thought your feelings for her were real. Are they?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it fucking does!” My calm snapped. Frustration boiled up inside me, thirsting for a release. “Tell me the truth. No more lies. Why are you marrying her?”

Jordan’s eyes flashed. He opened his mouth as if to argue, but then his shoulders slumped, and he seemed to deflate before my eyes.

A long silence passed before he spoke again. “You know my grandmother’s sick. What you don’t know is that she put a condition in her will. If I don’t marry by the end of next year, I’ll forfeit my inheritance. All of it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not just the money, Vuk. It’s also the company. My family legacy. She’ll give it all away unless I marry.”

Christ. Orla Ford was a force to be reckoned with, but that was extreme even for her.

“I’m her only grandchild. Her only heir. And she would rather end the Ford legacy than pass it on unless I did what she wanted. So I came up with a plan.” Jordan took a deep breath. “I asked Ayana if she would be open to a marriage of convenience. She plays the part of my wife for five years in exchange for ten million dollars. She said yes, and, well…” He gestured at himself. “Here we are.”

My head spun.

This entire time, their relationship had been fake. I thought they’d entered it with the best intentions and realized along the way that they didn’t have romantic feelings for each other, but this was beyond imagining.

“Why didn’t you find someone you actually wanted to marry? You had years,” I said.

“Because I’ll never find that person.” Jordan gave me a thin smile. “I’m not interested in romantic relationships. Never have been, never will be.”

It took a beat for me to understand what he was saying. Once I did, I expelled a sharp breath.

I should’ve known. It explained Jordan’s blasé attitude toward dating and sex and his unwillingness to enter a long-term relationship. He often seemed more invested in what he was having for dinner than courting a partner.

Now I knew why.

“Yeah,” he said when realization dawned on my face. “So you understand why a marriage to someone I like platonically was the best-case scenario for me. Ayana and I have been friends for years. She is…the least worst option.”

The least worst option.

My blood bubbled. She deserved to be the best option. In fact, there were no other options; there was only her.

Learning the reason behind their marriage didn’t dampen my determination; it only strengthened it.

This was about money, and I had money in spades.

“I’ll wire you the hundred twenty million.”

Jordan’s eyes snapped to mine. “What?”

“That’s how much your inheritance is worth.” My mind was already spinning with next steps. We needed to wrap this up quickly so we could call off the wedding. The guests would be baffled, but I was confident we could concoct a believable story for why Jordan and Ayana were no longer getting married. Couples got cold feet all the time. “One hundred and twenty million dollars. If you cancel the wedding, you’ll have the full amount in your account by tomorrow morning.”

My accountant would have my head, and I’d have to pull some strings to wire such a large sum overnight.

I didn’t care. I would pay triple the amount if I had to.

Ayana was worth it.

Instead of expressing relief, Jordan’s face darkened. “I’m not taking your money. Did you miss the part about the company? It’s about more than a hundred twenty mil. I am not going to be the Ford who loses the family legacy.”

“I’m sure we can find a way to help you maintain ownership of the company.”

Hell, I’d buy the fucking thing and gift it to him. The shareholders would put up a fuss, but I’d give them a number they couldn’t refuse.

“We aren’t doing anything,” Jordan snapped. “I’m getting married, and that’s the end of it.”

Anger outpaced disbelief. Why was he being so difficult when my solution was clearly the best option for all parties involved? “You don’t even want to be married!”

“Maybe not, but I’m doing what I have to do.” His knuckles whitened. “I’m not a charity case, Vuk. You may have hundreds of millions to throw around, but I don’t need you to save the day like you’re fucking Superman.”

A new realization set in.

This wasn’t about the company. Not entirely. This was about pride and ego. He couldn’t stand to take money from someone else when he was supposed to be the golden kid.

I didn’t blame him. If I were in his situation, I’d chafe at my offer too. I hated pity.

But his pride was also the only thing standing between me and Ayana, and that was unacceptable.

“It’s not charity.” I kept my voice as controlled as possible so I didn’t snap at him.

“Then what is it? Payback for the money I lent you in college?” Jordan shook his head. “You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t saved your life, would you?”

I fell silent.

I’d grown to enjoy his company over the years, and I did value him as a friend, but it was true. If he hadn’t saved my life, we would’ve never forged a friendship. Even if we had, I wouldn’t have put in the effort to keep it after college.

“I don’t mind that part. It is what it is,” he said. “But how much is our friendship really worth when you didn’t even tell me you were in love with Ayana all this time?”

I instinctively flinched. In love?

What I felt for her was fascination. Preoccupation. Obsession so deep I couldn’t breathe sometimes.

But love? I didn’t even know what that meant.

“We both kept secrets,” I growled. “You let me believe this was a love match, and you didn’t say a word about why you don’t do relationships. So who’s really tarnishing the value of our friendship?”

“I had reasons for that.” Jordan’s face flushed. “I didn’t figure out why I wasn’t…interested in sex and romance until two years ago. I just thought I hadn’t met the right person yet. And if my grandmother found out about my arrangement with Ayana, that would be the fucking end. You know she has eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Including with me?”

He looked away. “I couldn’t risk it. Ayana and I agreed not to tell anyone. Not our families. Not our best friends. There was too much at stake.”

I gritted my teeth, torn between the urge to shake him and sympathize with him.

I didn’t have time for either. The clock ticked toward the half hour, and we needed to end this once and for all.

“Take the money, Jordan,” I said.

His expression hardened. “No. I understand you have feelings for Ayana, but you can’t get everything you want. If you truly wanted her, you would’ve said something sooner. You wouldn’t have waited until the last minute.”

I was struck by the bitterness in his tone until it hit me.

When we first met, Jordan had the upper hand in almost every way. He’d been the rich, popular, good-looking legacy kid whose family had attended Thayer for generations. He sailed through school knowing he had the world at his fingertips after he graduated.

I’d been the outsider, the scholarship student who worked alone and took side jobs to pay for his expenses.

Fast forward thirteen years, and I was worth multitudes more than he was. I had more power, more status, and more influence. It must be a jarring turn of events for him.

Jordan had never displayed open resentment toward my success, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.

Once again, it was pride and ego. Even the best people in the world were susceptible to it.

“You’re right.” I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “But I’m asking you now. Don’t do this.” It was the closest I’d ever come to begging.

I had other options. I could tell his grandmother about the arrangement or lock him in this room and steal Ayana away. I could force him to do what I wanted at gunpoint.

But I would never exercise those options. Not with him. There were some lines even I wouldn’t cross.

Jordan’s throat bobbed. “It’s too late,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t ask what that meant for my best man role or our friendship. He simply left.

The door shut behind him. The minute hand swept past the half hour mark, and its soft tick was what sent me over the edge.

I swept my arm across a table of glasses in rage and watched them crash to the floor. The explosive shatter did nothing to alleviate the burn in my chest.

I’d tried to reason with Jordan, but I couldn’t watch Ayana marry someone else.

I needed to talk to her. I needed…fuck. I needed her. I shouldn’t have walked away from her at the hotel. I should’ve stayed and worked it out somehow. Convinced her that this arrangement with Jordan wasn’t worth it.

Regret twisted inside me.

I checked the clock again. I still had a little time before the ceremony started.

I strode out into the hall and toward the elevators, my pulse pumping with adrenaline. I made it halfway when my burner phone rang. It was the one I used specifically to communicate with Roman.

Dammit. His was the one call I couldn’t afford to ignore.

“What?” I resumed my walk toward the elevators.

“We have a problem.”

Mental alarm bells clanged at his grim tone. “What kind of problem?”

“Our friend has reprioritized.”

Translation: the distractions that’d kept the Brotherhood factions at bay had cleared up.

“Is he coming home?” In other words, were they actively targeting me again?

“Yes.” Roman sounded tense. “I suspect he’s…unhappy with me. I’m out in the cold in regards to details.”

I swallowed a curse. The development couldn’t have come at a worse time. “When?”

“I’m not sure, but it’ll be soon. Knowing him, he’ll choose a time when your guard is down and you’re least able to retaliate.”

My guard was never down. Even now, I scanned the hall, my ears cocked for the slightest hint of trouble. As for retaliation, the only times I couldn’t really fight back were when I was asleep or…

My blood turned to ice. The gears in my head whirred and landed on one inevitable conclusion.

Fuck.

I hung up without a word and immediately called Sean from my other phone. He picked up on the first ring.

I bypassed the pleasantries. “The wedding has been compromised.”

After a millisecond of audible shock, he recovered and immediately snapped into professional mode. Thank God I’d had the foresight to bring three of my men to the wedding despite the Fords’ protests.

“Understood,” he said. He hung up.

I checked my watch. The ceremony started in ten minutes, which meant Jordan and the guests were already inside. Ayana would be nearby.

I hoped I was wrong, but my gut screamed otherwise.

The Brotherhood wasn’t operating by their old rules anymore. The fire at the Vault proved that. It didn’t matter that this was a high-profile wedding when they usually operated in the shadows. And my absence from the church wouldn’t deter them; it would embolden them to use people I cared about to get to me.

They’d done it before.

My heart crawled into my throat; I felt like I was going to be sick.

The elevator arrived. I jabbed at the button for the lobby, my body wired with so much tension I might explode before I got out.

Twenty floors.

Nineteen.

Eighteen.

When I finally arrived on the ground floor, I abandoned all pretenses and broke into a flat-out run. I ignored the passing shouts and curses.

Adrenaline fueled my pace, but that didn’t stop an ominous feeling from spreading in my chest.

Please don’t let me be too late.