King of Greed: Chapter 30

After Isabella and Vivian left and Sloane retired for the night, I wedged into the back of my closet, took out my phone, and messaged the guy I’d matched with on the dating app. He messaged back immediately, and by the following afternoon, I had a date for Tuesday night.

It happened so fast it made my head spin, which was exactly what I wanted. If I thought too hard, I’d sink into the pool of guilt puddling in my stomach. I’d made it clear I wanted to date other people, and Dominic had agreed. I had no reason to feel guilty, but it was difficult to shed old ways of thinking.

He’s not yours anymore. You’re free.

One day, my feelings would catch up with my logic. Until then, I forced myself to give my upcoming date a fair chance.

Dalton was charming, well-educated, and handsome in a generic Ralph Lauren model sort of way. He’d just moved to New York from Australia and worked in “business,” a vague descriptor that hinted at a possible trust fund background, but other than that, our text conversations were perfectly lovely.

“You look great,” Sloane said on Tuesday. “Stop worrying and have fun.”

“It’s my first real date in eleven years.” I didn’t count my dinner with Aiden, which fell in the gray zone somewhere between platonic and romantic. “What if I embarrass myself? Or we run out of things to talk about? Do people kiss on first dates nowadays, or am I supposed to wait for the third?”

I fiddled with my necklace. Dalton was taking me to a gala uptown

—“much nicer than getting drinks at a bar,” he’d assured me—and I’d dressed for the occasion in a midnight silk gown and gold jewelry. It seemed like overkill for our first date, but I supposed it was better than shouting to be heard over Christmas bar music.

Sloane placed her hands on my shoulders. “Stop. Breathe,” she ordered.

I did, simply because one never said no to Sloane Kensington. She would make a great military general if she ever felt so inclined. “You’ll be fine.

First dates are meant to be a little awkward. Just go, have fun, and if things truly go off the rails, call me.”

“Right. Okay.” I sucked in a deep breath. I can do this. I was an adult; I wasn’t going to run to my friend at the first sign of trouble. “Wait, where are you going tonight? I thought you had work.”

Most people took Christmas week off, but Sloane wasn’t most people.

She would physically glue her phone to her hand if it weren’t so logistically complicated.

“I do.” She removed her hands from my shoulders and crossed her arms, the faintest bloom of pink coloring her cheeks. Instead of her usual suits, pencil skirts, and business sheaths, she wore a shimmering gold dress and heels that took her from five-eight to six feet tall. “I’m meeting a client at a…at a private party.”

Suspicions over Sloane’s uncharacteristic stutter fell away when her phone and the doorbell rang at the same time. We said a quick goodbye and rushed to answer our respective calls.

“Wow, you’re even more beautiful in person.” Dalton’s dark eyes sparkled with appreciation as he gave me a thorough once-over in the elevator. “I’m so glad you messaged me.”

I smiled past a twinge of discomfort. “Me too.”

A private car waited for us downstairs. It whisked us uptown while Dalton and I settled into a conversation about his impressions of New York so far and the differences between living in the U.S. and Australia.

“At least there aren’t animals waiting to kill you around every corner here,” I teased when he complained about the American tipping culture.

“True.” He grinned. “But not every snake you see is venomous…”

I enjoyed our conversation, but like with Aiden, I didn’t feel that elusive spark with Dalton. Still, the night was young. We had plenty of time to connect.

“You’re going to love this place,” he said when the car pulled up to a pair of guarded gates. “I thought the Sydney chapter was nice, but the New York one blows it out of the water. I guess that’s why it’s the flagship.” He laughed. I didn’t join him.

I recognized those gates. I recognized the long, winding drive up to the main building and the grand white marble that loomed above us. I’d attended events there many, many times over the past five years.

Dread curdled in my chest as we walked up the red-carpeted stairs.

Maybe he won’t be here. Dominic hated parties and tolerated them only for networking purposes. It was two days before Christmas; he had better places to be.

But any hope I had of avoiding my ex-husband while I was on a date with another man vanished when Dalton and I stepped foot into the Valhalla Club’s ballroom.

I looked up, and there he was. Broad shoulders, devastating face, and burning eyes that were fixed directly on me—and on the touch of Dalton’s hand on my waist.

DOMINIC

“No murder before Christmas,” Dante warned me. “Vivian says it’s bad luck.”

“I’m not murdering anyone.” I didn’t want to get blood on my suit. But maiming? That was a strong possibility—if I hadn’t promised Alessandra I wouldn’t interfere with her dates.

Possessiveness churned beneath my skin as I watched her dance with Dalton Campbell. Her dress hugged every curve, and she’d styled her hair in an updo that revealed the smooth, bare expanse of her back. Eyes, hair, smile, everything. She was so damn beautiful it defied reality.

I flicked my lighter on and off as Dalton said something that made her laugh. Jealousy burned green and hot.

Seeing Alessandra on a date with another man and not being able to do a thing about it was as close to hell as I could imagine. I didn’t know much about Dalton other than the fact the Campbells made their fortune in mining and that he’d recently transferred from Sydney’s Valhalla chapter, but I loathed his guts already.

“Good.” Kai brought half my attention back to our conversation. The other half was stuck on Dalton’s hand on Alessandra’s waist. He was touching her too intimately for a public setting, and I wanted to chop the fucking thing off. “We’re here to celebrate, so stop glaring at the poor man like you’re plotting his demise.”

Dante had announced Vivian’s pregnancy last night. I was happy for him—for the most part. The Russos had been married for three years and were starting a family. I’d been married to Alessandra for ten and had nothing left of it except for the diamond in my pocket and the broken pieces serrating my heart.

Perhaps I was a masochist for carrying her wedding ring around when it reminded me so much of our failures, but like the lighter, it was also one of the only memories of us I could hold.

“We haven’t decided if we want the baby’s gender to be a surprise yet,”

Dante said in response to Kai’s question, which I’d missed. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of pride, joy, and nerves. He looked so unlike his usual grouchy self, I would’ve never guessed this was the same man who’d hated his wife when they first met. “I want to be surprised, but Viv wants to prepare. You know she loves planning things…”

I tried to pay attention, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Alessandra and Dalton. Vivian and Isabella were here with Dante and Kai, but they’d disappeared to God knew where at the start of the gala. They hadn’t even seen Alessandra yet.

My jaw ticked when Alessandra laughed again at something Dalton said. I couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to remove myself from the same room as them before I strangled someone.

“I’ll be right back.” I left Dante and Kai without waiting for a response.

Green fumes choked my lungs as I exited the ballroom and headed to the gardens. I’d left my coat inside, and the wintry air bit through the soft wool of my suit. Still, it did nothing to dispel the misery tunneling through my veins.

On. Off. The lighter’s flame provided the only source of warmth.

From physical beatings to verbal abuse, I’d been subject to plenty of punishments as a child, but none cut more than the past hour. I was a ghost tonight, forced to watch but unable to act.

I stayed outside until my face turned numb and the ache of the cold sank into my bones. I would’ve left Valhalla altogether had morbid curiosity not dragged me back to the party.

I needed to know whether Alessandra and Dalton were still there. As much as it hurt to see them together, the what ifs if they left together would eviscerate me even more.

I stopped at the bathroom first. I’d just finished washing my hands when a laugh leaked from one of the stalls.

“Did you see the photo I sent?” The voice carried a heavy Australian accent. “Yeah…I know. She’s hot. Rumor has it she’s recently divorced too, so you know she’s craving a good rebound fuck.”

I went deathly still.

Another laugh echoed in the bathroom. It was empty save for me and the fucker in the stall, and I could hear every ounce of smugness in his tone.

“Nah. No way I’m chaining myself to some chick this soon, no matter how hot she is. I bet her pussy is tight as hell, though…yeah, she messaged me first. Imagine how long it’s been since her ex touched her if she’s this desperate to go on a date with someone she just started talking to.” The toilet flushed. “Yeah, secret camera’s still at my place. I’ll show you how she is at the game.”

The stall door opened, and Dalton stepped out. A flash of surprise crossed his face when he saw me by the sink, but he displayed no awareness of what he’d just walked into.

“Hey man, you mind moving?” He nodded at the sink. “I need to get back to my date.” His wink told me he knew I’d overhead him and that he thought we were part of the same fucking boys’ club.

“Sure.” I calmly wiped my hand with a paper towel and tossed it in the trash.

“Thanks. I—” His sentence broke off into a howl when I slammed my fist into his face. Blood spurted from his nose, and the satisfying crunch of bone chased away the ugly remnants of his laughter. “What the fuck? ” He clutched his nose, his face screwed into a mask of pain. “I’m going to sue the fuck out of you, you—”

Dalton howled again when I hauled him up by his collar. “What you’re going to do,” I said calmly, “is walk back to the ballroom, apologize to your date for wasting her time, and never touch or contact her again. Then you’ll go home and dismantle that camera of yours before the FBI gets an anonymous tip about your secret activities. If I find out you violated any of those rules, I’ll hunt you down, chop off your tiny, pathetic dick, and make you choke on it. Understand?”

“You’re crazy,” Dalton spit out. “Do you know who my father—”

I tightened my hold until his face turned an ugly shade of purple and his words devolved into a helpless gurgle. “Understand?”

He nodded frantically, his eyes bulging from a lack of oxygen. “Good.”

I walked out and left him a bleeding, crying mess on the floor. Rage distorted my vision with every step, but as much as I’d like to beat him unconscious for the way he’d talked about Alessandra, I’d already crossed a line. I didn’t regret it one bit, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t feel the same.

My suspicions were confirmed later when she glanced at her phone with a frown and slipped out of the ballroom. Dante and Kai had both disappeared, so I was alone at the bar when Alessandra returned a few minutes later, her expression incandescent with rage.

“You. Outside. Now.”

I followed her to a quiet upstairs hall, ignoring the other guests’ curious stares and whispers. Our separation had made a splash in the society papers, and I could see the headlines that would come out of tonight’s events already.

Campbell heir assaulted at the Valhalla gala!

Dominic and Alessandra Davenport spotted arguing. Is more trouble on the horizon for this divorced couple?

“You punched Dalton in the face?” Alessandra waited until we were alone before she laid into me. “What is wrong with you? That’s assault!”

“Let me explain—”

“No.” She jabbed a finger at my chest. “You said you weren’t going to interfere with my dates.”

“I know. I—”

“That was three days ago, and the first thing you do when you actually see me with someone else is to attack them in the bathroom?”

“Ále, he—”

“This is exactly why I can’t trust you. You keep saying one thing and

—”

“He was going to videotape you!” My words exploded with frustration.

Alessandra fell silent. She stared at me, her eyes round with shock.

“I overheard him talking to a friend in the bathroom.” I skipped the crasser elements of Dalton’s conversation. She didn’t need to hear any of that. “He was planning to take you home and secretly tape you having sex.”

A fresh shimmer of rage threaded through my gut. “Tell me, what was I supposed to do?”

“You could’ve told me.”

“Would you have believed me?”

She didn’t respond.

“I said I’ll stand back and watch you date whoever you want, and I will,” I said. “It’s not my place to tell you what you can and can’t do. But I will not stand back and watch you be disrespected.” Emotion roughened the syllables. “I’ll do anything for you, amor, but I can’t do the impossible.”

Alessandra swallowed. Her anger had visibly abated, and she suddenly looked small and tired against our ornate surroundings. My fist curled against the need to touch her. “I’ll let you get back to the party,” I said when she remained quiet. “I’m sorry for ruining your evening, but you deserve better than someone like Dalton.”

She deserved better than me too, but at least I knew it. There wasn’t a single person in the world who was worthy of her.

I made it two steps down the hall before she stopped me. “Dominic.”

My heart ricocheted at her low tone. I turned, but I didn’t get a chance to react before she closed the space between us, grabbed my shirt…

And kissed me.