King of Envy: Chapter 32

To my surprise, Vuk didn’t shut down my suggestion. In fact, he seemed to embrace it, though he refused to give me details about when and where the lessons would start. He just said “after D.C.”

I wasn’t a fan of guns or violence in general, but with people like the Brotherhood running around trying to kill those close to me, I couldn’t stick my head in the sand.

Vuk had a point about D.C., though. I was scheduled to take the train home the following day, so I didn’t have time to do anything except pack and visit the salon after I left his house. I liked to style my hair in low-maintenance box braids when I traveled, even if it was a short trip, and Kim did them faster and better than anyone else I knew.

However, when Vuk found out I was taking the train, he insisted on driving me to D.C. himself “for safety reasons,” which was how I found myself going on a road trip with Vuk freaking Markovic.

“I love that you brought your cat.” I petted Shadow and smiled when he thumped his tail against my thigh.

“He’s a temporary guest, and I didn’t bring him,” Vuk said in a long-suffering tone. “He’s a stowaway. I didn’t notice him hiding in the back until we stopped for gas.” He scowled at the sleepy feline. Shadow was curled up in my lap, oblivious to his owner’s irritation.

I stifled a laugh at Vuk’s endearing grouchiness.

“I would’ve noticed him earlier,” he added, “if you hadn’t packed your entire closet for the weekend. I can barely see past the mountain of luggage in the rearview mirror.”

“It’s not my entire closet,” I said. “It’s only one-eighth of it.”

Three suitcases, one duffel, and one vanity case was the bare minimum. Did he know how much space shoes took up?

“That’s…terrifying.” Despite his words, a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

My indignation melted into an answering smile. Maybe it was his company, the comfort of petting a cute cat, or the prospect of seeing my family again, but this was the lightest I’d felt all week.

My trauma from last Friday’s attack was nowhere close to healed. I probably needed extensive therapy to deal with what had happened, and Jordan’s fate remained in limbo. The Brotherhood remained an ominous specter in the background. But people needed hope in the darkest of times, and spiraling into a pit of worry wasn’t going to help anyone.

I reached for my phone and changed the music to something more upbeat. I was the DJ for our trip, and Vuk seemed content to let me fiddle with the Spotify stations as I saw fit.

“Is this your first trip out of town this year? Besides San Francisco,” I amended. “I feel like you never go on vacation.”

“No, and I don’t have time for vacation.”

“Everyone has time for vacation.”

“Not me.”

“Then what were your other trips for?”

“Business.”

God, he could be infuriating. “That’s boring.”

Vuk slid a sideways glance at me. “Says the girl who flies from photoshoot to photoshoot around the world. When was the last time you went on vacation?”

“That’s not the same.” I smoothed a hand over Shadow’s fur. “I build in vacation days around the photoshoot when I can. For example, after I did that perfume campaign for Chanel, I stayed in Provence and took four days off.”

“But you still flew there for work. You wouldn’t have been in Provence if you weren’t required to be there.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Dammit. He had a point.

Travel was one of my favorite parts of modeling, but it would be nice to go somewhere I didn’t have to worry about work at all.

“Fine,” I said after I’d regrouped. “If you did have time for vacation, where would you go?”

Vuk’s brows drew together in thought. I loved that about him. When he wasn’t intentionally pushing my buttons with blasé answers, he considered every question with the same gravity a CEO considered an important business decision. It didn’t matter how silly the question was.

He made me feel seen, but he made me feel heard too.

“Somewhere cold,” he mused. “I like the mountains and snow. Fewer people there.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I teased. “I’m a warm weather girl. Give me a beach and fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them any day.”

“A beach is fine if it’s deserted.”

“What do you have against people?”

Vuk gave me a sardonic look. Right. Stupid question. People had shot at him, killed his brother, and tried to kill him too. That wasn’t counting all the strangers who gawked at his scars like he was a zoo animal. No wonder he hated leaving the house.

“Never mind. Deserted beach or deserted mountain. Noted.” My teeth dug into my bottom lip. There was another question I wanted to ask, but…Screw it. We had over an hour left on our drive, and I was finally comfortable enough to broach a topic that had been on my mind for a while. “After my bachelorette, you started talking to me verbally. What changed that night?”

“Besides the fact that you tried to kiss me?” Vuk’s cool drawl brought a flush of heat to my neck and chest.

“Besides that,” I said.

I didn’t care how Vuk expressed himself as long as he was comfortable. Verbal or ASL, what mattered most was how he felt. However, he’d only used ASL with me until I tried to kiss him. I thought that was a one-off due to his shock, but we’d been having verbal conversations almost exclusively for weeks.

He didn’t even talk this much with Jordan, and Jordan had known him before the fire.

“It felt right,” Vuk said simply. “You’re the only person I talk to this much besides Willow.”

Something green hissed through my veins. “Who’s Willow?” The name sounded familiar. I pictured some leggy, faceless beauty and frowned.

“My former assistant.”

“Hmm. How old is she?” I asked casually.

Vuk glanced at me, one eyebrow cocked. “She was my mother’s best friend, so she’s in her fifties. She took me in after my parents died. She retired earlier this year and moved to Oregon. We don’t talk as much as we used to given the distance, but I’m planning to visit her in a few months.”

“Oh.” Now that he mentioned it, I vaguely remembered a frighteningly competent older woman who’d been at his side at my engagement party.

Dark amusement coasted through his gaze. “Jealous, srce moje?”

“Yeah, right.” Heat singed my cheeks. “Well, I’m honored to be one of the two chosen ones. Really.” Sincerity softened the last word.

A quick smile flashed over Vuk’s mouth before it disappeared. He returned his attention to the highway. After a short pause, he asked, “Did Jordan tell you why I stopped speaking?”

I shook my head. “He said it wasn’t his story to tell.”

“He would say that.” A twinge of melancholy colored Vuk’s voice. Despite our easy conversation, Jordan’s current condition never strayed far from our minds.

There was another, longer pause before Vuk spoke again. “The night Lazar died was the night everything changed. One of the Brothers who broke into my house tried to choke me with a rope. When that didn’t work, he set the end of the rope on fire. I managed to free myself in time, but the incident left me with this.” He gestured at his neck. “The doctors said it was a miracle my vocal cords weren’t destroyed. Even so, it took a lot of surgeries and voice therapy before I could talk normally again. For months, it hurt to say a single word, so I didn’t. I let people think it was a random break-in gone wrong. Jordan knew I was involved with a shady crowd, but even he didn’t know the extent of what happened.”

The music segued into a new song. I turned it off, my heart in my throat. I’d guessed something like that had happened to give him his scars, but the truth was even worse than I’d imagined.

“I got used to not speaking,” Vuk said without taking his eyes off the road. The hint of emotion behind his words betrayed his stoic expression. “I learned ASL and used that to communicate instead. But even after I healed, I’d feel a phantom pain when I talked. It reminded me too much of that night. Injuries aside, I was also pissed at the world and myself. I only left my house if I had to for work. Being quiet was…easier. Preference became habit, and habit became the new normal.”

A deep ache formed behind my ribcage.

He’d been so young then. The guilt and loneliness must’ve been unbearable. His twin brother had died, and he couldn’t tell anyone what really happened. He’d had to live in a world of half-truths.

I didn’t have personal experience with hitmen or murder, but I understood what it was like to feel alone in a crowd. To hold secrets close to my chest, and to be surrounded by people yet have no one to confide in.

“Sometimes I have no choice but to speak,” Vuk said. “Those situations are rare. I don’t like wasting my words on people unless…”

My heart rate picked up. “Unless?”

“Unless they’re special to me.” His eyes remained on the road, but his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.

My breath stalled in my lungs. Honeyed warmth curled through me, its silken tendrils soothing the ache that had blossomed earlier.

I couldn’t find the right words to describe the sentiment, so I reached for his hand instead. It rested on the center console between us, and his skin was warm and rough when I laced my fingers through his.

Vuk’s hand tensed. After a moment, it relaxed again, and he tentatively curled his fingers around mine.

We stayed like that for the rest of the ride.

VUK

We arrived at the Kidane home close to dinnertime. Rush hour traffic had slowed us down, and I would’ve been more worried about the Brotherhood somehow ambushing us from a nearby car had I not taken my fully armored Range Rover.

Bulletproof glass, Kevlar-reinforced interior, puncture-proof tires, blast-protected flooring—I didn’t leave anything to chance.

Luckily, we made it to Ayana’s parents’ house without incident. I helped carry her luggage to the door, where they were already waiting with anxious expressions.

My palm tingled from Ayana’s touch. My chest was still tight—from recounting the aftermath of the fire or her tender response, I wasn’t sure. Either way, the weekend had barely started, and I was already out of my depth.

Abel and Saba Kidane cooed over Shadow and fussed over their daughter, demanding to know whether she’d eaten lunch and if she’d been getting enough sleep. Her father shook my hand in greeting while her mother turned to me.

“Vuk.” A warm smile eased the worry lines around her eyes. “Thank you so much for driving Ayana down and for…everything. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

I’d had two of my men drive them home on Monday. They were still in D.C., keeping an eye on things until I arrived.

Tears glistened in Saba’s eyes. Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder, and she wiped them away with an embarrassed expression.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said. “I’m normally not this emotional, but if you hadn’t been at the church—if you’d been a few minutes late—we wouldn’t…I wouldn’t…”

Heat curled around my ears. I glanced at Ayana in a silent plea for help. I appreciated her mother’s sentiment, but I hated when people thanked me, and I had no clue what to do with tears.

“Mom, I’m okay,” Ayana said gently. “Let’s not dwell on the past.”

“She’s right. No need to torture ourselves with what-ifs,” her father declared. “Let’s get them inside. It’s chilly out.”

“You’re right.” Saba cleared her throat and stepped aside so Ayana and her husband could move Ayana’s overstuffed suitcases into the entryway. If that was only an eighth of Ayana’s closet, I couldn’t imagine what her full collection looked like. “Vuk, Ayana mentioned you’re driving her back as well. Where are you staying for the weekend?”

Ayana said her entire family learned ASL after one of her aunts lost her hearing, so I signed my response.

I booked a hotel nearby.

Saba looked appalled. “A hotel? Nonsense. You saved my daughter’s life, and you drove her all this way. You’ll stay with us. We have a guest room upstairs, and you’ll join us for dinner. Aaron and Liya are coming by as well.”

“Mom.” Ayana sounded embarrassed. “Vuk probably has dinner plans already. Don’t strong-arm him into staying.”

“Dinner plans where? What restaurant meal compares to a homemade one?” the elder Kidane countered. “And I say that as a restaurant owner.” She faced me again. “You’re staying with us. We’ll get the guest room ready.”

I was the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation and a former member of an assassins’ organization, but even I knew better than to argue with a determined mother.

Thank you. I’d love to stay.

My previous dinner plans had consisted of takeout and working on my laptop. I wasn’t sorry to see them go.

“I’m sorry,” Ayana muttered as we walked deeper into the house. “Once my mom sets her mind on something, there’s no arguing with her.”

Sounds like someone else I know.

My mouth twitched when she elbowed me in the ribs. I liked talking to Ayana when we were alone, but I preferred to use ASL when we were in earshot of other people.

The Kidanes lived in a cozy two-story house on the border between D.C. and Maryland. It was decorated in the same bright colors as Ayana’s apartment, and there were photos of their children and grandchildren everywhere.

Three full shelves in the living room were dedicated to various blue ribbons, academic trophies, and athletic medals. Framed magazine covers decorated the walls—there was Ayana posing for Vogue, Ayana smiling in Harper’s Bazaar, Ayana smoldering for Cosmopolitan. Pictures of her sister at her pinning ceremony for nursing graduates lined the mantel next to behind-the-scenes shots of her brother in the kitchen.

It was a house filled with love. I hadn’t experienced that in years, but I was glad Ayana had such a strong support system at home. Whatever bullshit happened in New York, at least her family had her back.

Saba gave me a full tour while Ayana unpacked and Abel prepared dinner. It ended at the guest room.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour or so,” she said. “The bathroom is across the hall. Fresh towels are in the closet next to it.” The sound of the doorbell interrupted her. “That must be Liya or Aaron. Excuse me.”

I thanked her again. She left, and I tossed my duffel bag on the chair in the corner. The room was small but well-appointed. A navy comforter covered the bed; a hand-knotted rug adorned the floor. There was an armchair in the corner with an intricately woven cotton blanket draped over it. It wasn’t as luxurious as the penthouse suite I’d booked at the Ritz, but this was the house where Ayana had grown up. That was better than any five-star amenity.

I unpacked, showered, and changed. I texted my team to let them know I was staying with the Kidanes while Shadow stole into my room and sniffed through my duffel like I was hiding tuna from him in there.

Get out.

He ignored my silent missive, slinked across the room, and parked himself right in the middle of my bed.

Fucker.

I swallowed my grumble and went downstairs. Laughter drifted over from the kitchen, and the entire house smelled like mouthwatering spices and simmering meat.

I made a mental note to figure out food and litter for Shadow.

“Perfect timing,” Saba said when I entered the dining room. “Dinner is just about ready.”

How can I help?

I couldn’t cook for shit, but I could set the table.

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was firm. “You’re a guest. Sit. We’ll bring the food out.”

Two children—one boy, one girl—raced past her, shrieking. They couldn’t be older than five or six. Liya came up behind them with a frown.

“What did I say about running in the house?” she called out. “Put your toys away and remember to wash your hands before dinner!”

Their only response was an indulgent “Yes, Mom” followed by more laughter and a high-pitched “Kitty!”

Shadow must’ve wandered downstairs. That cat went anywhere and everywhere.

Liya shook her head. “Hi, Vuk,” she said on her way back to the kitchen. “Good to see you again.”

I nodded in greeting. She’d escaped the church attack unscathed. I didn’t know how she felt on the inside, but outwardly, she’d reacted the calmest to last week’s events. According to Ayana, Liya was an ER nurse, so she was used to seeing messed-up stuff.

“I should’ve warned you. It’s a bit of a zoo on Friday nights.” Ayana’s voice sounded behind me.

I turned, my muscles loosening at the sight of her. She’d also changed into a more comfortable outfit. The red sweater and jeans complemented her dark brown skin perfectly.

I don’t mind.

“I thought you hated people?” She arched a teasing brow.

I shrugged. Some people. Not all.

Her smile dazzled, and I grew warm all over.

Dinner started soon after. There were ten of us in total—me, Ayana, her parents, her siblings and their spouses, plus Liya’s two children. Shadow ignored the bowl Saba set out for him and sat at the kids’ feet, basking in their attention instead.

As promised, the food was delicious. There was a tomato salad with onions, jalapeños, and a light lemony dressing; fried fish; spicy beef stew, and bread. Ayana’s mother had been right. Nothing beat a home-cooked meal.

“So, Vuk,” Aaron said halfway through dinner. “What is it that you do again?”

I run an alcohol company.

He whistled. “It must do pretty well. Your car is sick.”

Either he was the world’s best actor, or he really didn’t know who I was. It wasn’t that far-fetched. Few people outside New York and the business world paid close attention to CEOs.

It does okay.

“He’s being modest,” Ayana interjected. She sat next to me, so close I caught a whiff of her perfume every time she moved. “His company is the largest in its industry. He started it when he was twenty-three and built it from there.” A note of pride rang through her voice.

The tips of my ears grew warm again.

I wasn’t used to people praising me without angling for something in return. It was…unsettling, but not unpleasant.

Everyone at the table looked at me, even the children.

“Damn,” Aaron said. Liya glared at him, and he winced. “Don’t say that word,” he told the kids before facing me again. “Any chance I can take a look at your car after dinner?”

Be my guest.

“Don’t let him behind the wheel though,” Abel said. “I remember when he drove my car straight over a curb two days after getting his license.”

“Dad.” Aaron crossed his arms while the rest of the table laughed. “When are you going to let that go?”

“When I grow old, and my memory fails me.”

More laughter and lighthearted ribbing. Aaron rolled his eyes, but a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth.

“My brother had to do all the household chores for months after as punishment,” Ayana whispered to me. “Liya and I were secretly hoping he’d nick the car again so we wouldn’t have to do any more dishes before college.”

I smirked at the image of her and her sister conspiring against their older sibling.

Dinner continued in the same vein, with Ayana’s family teasing each other and asking me genuine questions about my life and work. Nobody brought up the ruined wedding or its aftermath.

We’d spent the past week dwelling on it, and I suspected everyone needed a mental health break. No one wanted to ruin the relaxed atmosphere with a heavy topic.

No one stared at my scars or asked me about them either, not even the children. By the time we finished the main course, I’d relaxed enough to lower my guard a bit.

“So. Did Ayana tell you about our game night?” her father asked over coffee and tiramisu.

I shook my head.

“It slipped my mind,” Ayana admitted. “We have a board or card game night the last Friday of every month. It’s been a family tradition since I was a kid. Obviously, I haven’t been able to participate since I moved, but it’s a lot of fun. Don’t feel like you need to join though,” she added hastily. “You can if you want, but it’s been a long day. I totally understand if you’d rather get some rest instead.”

The tiniest bit of amusement rose at her flustered ramble. I’d love to join.

She gave me a small smile, which I almost returned until I caught her mother staring at us with a speculative gleam in her eyes.

I flattened my mouth into a straight line and finished my water.

A lively debate ensued over which game to play.

“I vote for Monopoly,” Ayana said.

“Boring. We always play Monopoly,” Aaron said. “How about Exploding Kittens?”

Shadow’s ears pricked up. He raised his head and pinned Ayana’s brother with a death glare. His tail swished against the floor.

“Maybe not.” Aaron moved his foot a little farther from the plotting cat.

“If only we had bingo cards,” Ayana said mischievously. “Vuk is the bingo king.”

I knocked a warning knee against hers under the table and earned myself a giggle. The sweet, silvery sound reverberated through me.

In the end, we settled on Pictionary. Ayana and I ended up on the same team as her mother, her brother, and her nephew. After an hour and a half of heated competition, the other team squeaked out a narrow win.

Normally, I’d take the loss as further evidence I should avoid team activities. I could only rely on myself to win.

But I liked the Kidanes, and I’d enjoyed watching Ayana celebrate each point with a little dance so much that losing didn’t seem like that big a deal.

“Thanks for indulging them,” she said after her siblings left and her parents turned in for the night. We lingered in the living room, the lamps casting a warm amber glow over the scene. “They’re super into game night.”

“It was more fun than reviewing security briefs,” I said.

“But not better than bingo.”

“What is your obsession with bingo?”

“Um, I’m not the obsessed one.” Ayana huffed. “You’re the one who plays at senior centers.”

“And you’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”

“Only because you refuse to confirm or deny whether you were joking about playing.”

“If I was, you’d feel pretty silly for ragging on me about it, wouldn’t you?”

“You—” She pressed her lips together. Their tiny quiver detracted from her stern expression, but her tone was lofty when she said, “You know what, it’s too late for me to argue with you about this. Good night.”

My own lips curved. “Good night, Ayana.”

The set of her mouth softened. It was so late that no sounds disturbed the night, but I could see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.

She pushed a braid behind her ear. Opened her mouth. Closed it.

The next beat of silence lasted just long enough for me to picture pulling her close and slanting my mouth over hers. I was full from dinner, but I could drink in the sweetness of her kiss forever and never be sated.

It was a fucked-up thought, considering she was still engaged to Jordan, and he was still in the hospital. But my desires were dark and selfish, and I never claimed otherwise.

Her lips parted like she could hear my obsessive thoughts. For a split second, I thought she would kiss me first.

Then she blinked and gave a small shake of her head. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, a little too huskily.

She disappeared up the stairs. I waited until she turned the corner before I released a long, slow breath.

I glanced around the living room. Shadow was curled up asleep on the couch. The Pictionary box remained on the table, its scattered pieces waiting to be collected come morning.

Tonight had been my first taste of normal since my brother died. The Kidanes weren’t my family, but they reminded me of what I missed most: warmth. Belonging. The simple pleasure of life.

I took in the quiet scene for one more moment before I turned off the light and went upstairs.