King of Greed: Chapter 36
King of Greed (Kings of Sin, 3)
I woke up with a hangover from hell.
Jackhammers smashed against the inside of my skull with bone-rattling force, and cotton filled my mouth. A slice of sunlight shone through the gap between the curtains and nearly fucking killed me.
I planted my forearm across my eyes with a groan. No more alcohol for me. I liked a good Macallan, but at that moment, the thought of imbibing another drop of whiskey made my stomach lurch.
What the hell happened last night? I was usually good at controlling myself when it came to drinking. People did all sorts of dumb shit when they were intoxicated, and I made it a point to do as little dumb shit as possible.
It was hard to think through the raucous construction site splitting my head, but bits and pieces of the previous evening slowly filtered through the chaos.
Alessandra. Date. Drinks. Roman. More drinks.
My stomach lurched again, both at the reminder of Alessandraâs date and the shitty dive bar Iâd drank my weight in. No wonder I felt like ass.
Nothing humbled a man more than cheap liquor and bad decisions.
âHere.â A laughing voice roused me from my misery. âThis will make you feel better.â
I lifted my head, another jackhammer striking at the movement.
Alessandra stood at the end of the couch, fresh-faced and beautiful in a yellow sundress. Damp chestnut waves brushed her shoulders, and the heady scents of her perfume and shampoo filled my nostrils.
I looked like utter shit while she looked like sheâd stepped out of a fairy tale.
Fan-fucking-tastic. This wasnât what Iâd had in mind when I made the stupid, drunken decision to wait outside her apartment like a desperate creep last night. Screw Roman for not stopping me; heâd gotten a call from work (which heâd refused to elaborate on) and left me to my worst impulses.
âIf you see me come within five feet of whiskey again, feel free to slap me.â I forced myself to sit up so I could take the proffered water and pastéis. Alessandra had introduced me to the fried pastries during our first trip to Brazil, and Iâd been a fan since. âWhoever invented shitty drinks deserves to be shot.â
Her eyes glittered with mirth. âIâve never seen you so hungover or disheveled. I should take a picture. Otherwise, no one will believe me.â
âFunny. Rub it in, why donât you?â I brought the water to my lips, but I was so disoriented I spilled some of it over my shirt. I bit out a colorful curse.
Alessandraâs entire body shook. âPriceless,â she gasped through bouts of laughter. She lifted her phone and snapped a photo, her cheeks creased with a wide grin.
âI swear to God, Ãle, if I see that photo online, Iâll post the one of you sleeping with your mouth open on the train,â I threatened, but a reluctant hint of amusement tugged at my mouth. It was hard to stay upset when she was smiling, even if it was at my expense.
âIt might be worth it.â She wiped the corners of her eyes, her giggles smoothing the last edges of my annoyance.
âYou look happy,â I said. âI donât remember the last time I made you this happy.â
Maybe it was a temporary happiness, but it was happiness all the same.
Iâd made her cry enough that seeing her laugh was worth the bruises to my ego.
Alessandraâs humor faded, disappearing into the tension that sparked, sudden and electric, around us.
âI guess that was part of the problem.â Her sad smile seeped into the cracks of my heart. âThere was no clear defining point between the before and after of our marriage. Somewhere along the way, the lines between happiness and resentment got blurred, and here we are.â
A lump blocked my throat. âAnd here we are.â
I wished we didnât have to take this road, but part of me was glad we did. As much as Alessandra leaving destroyed me, I would rather suffer through our separation than have her live in silent misery for the rest of our lives. Our divorce had been the shock I desperately needed to get my head out of my ass and realize what was truly important in my life.
I set my food aside and stood. Nerves slowed my pace, but soon I was in front of her, my chest tight and my mouth dry. The jackhammers in my head retreated beneath the ache sweeping through me. Forget the hangover; nothing hurt more than knowing Iâd hurt her. It was knowledge Iâd have to live with for the rest of my life, but I hoped our future could overpower the wrongs of our past. âDo you remember the night we finished cleaning up after the burst pipe? We ordered takeout, and you asked where I was supposed to be instead of at the store.â
Alessandra nodded, her expression wary.
âI told you there was nowhere else Iâd rather be, and I meant it,â I said.
I wasnât a sharer by nature. Iâd kept my problems to myself growing up because no one else gave much of a damn, and I locked my emotions in a box because every piece of vulnerability was a weakness other people could exploit. But the past few months had chipped away the lock, slowly but surely, until it lay it in pieces at her feet.
No more hiding. No more running away. It was now or nothing.
âI could tell you didnât believe me because Iâve spent the better part of the decade living out of my office, but I wasnât there all the time because I loved it. I was there because I was terrified that if I left, it would all crumble down.â The admission scraped past the thundering of my pulse. It was a truth Iâd avoided facing for too long. I thought money and power could erase my insecurities, but while theyâd solved my old problems, they also gave rise to new ones. âEverything Iâd worked for, everything Iâd achieved. I looked out the window at the city people say I conquered, and I only saw a million more ways I could fail. I thought that if I accumulated enough, I would finally be safe. But hereâs the thing.â
I swallowed the emotion scalding my throat. âI left my office for weeks when I went to Brazil and I hardly missed it. But when I came home and found you goneâ¦that night, and every night since, has felt like an eternity.
Saudades de você.â I miss you. In the deepest, truest sense.
Alessandra dropped her gaze as I continued. âMaybe I overstepped by waiting for you after your date, but I was drunk and miserable andâ¦â The teeth of agony ate at me. âI needed to see you.â
Iâd braced myself for the possibility sheâd be with her date. Iâd convinced myself I could handle it when in reality I probably wouldâve smashed the fuckerâs face in and ruined everything. Luck had been on my side in that regard, but I didnât feel particularly lucky as I stood there, heart in my hand, waiting for her to do with it as she pleased. After all, it belonged to her. It always had.
âI didnât have a date last night,â Alessandra said in a small voice.
Twin arrows of surprise and jubilation fell somewhere north of confusion.
âThen whyâ¦â
She looked up again, her eyes glittering with emotion. âBecause I was afraid of getting too attached again. At the penthouse, you asked me to stay, and I almost did. I didnât wantâ¦I donâtâ¦â She inhaled a shuddering breath. âIâm scared Iâll go back and lose myself again. Iâm scared youâll get comfortable and erase the progress weâve made. I canât go through this a second time, Dom. I canât. â Her sentence broke into a sob, and just like that, my heart slid out of my palm and shattered all over again.
ALESSANDRA
Dominicâs arms engulfed me. âYou wonât,â he said fiercely. âWeâve come too far. I wonât let us go back to that place.â
Heâd always been good at saying the right thing. Doing the right thing was a lot harder, and every time I took a step toward believing him, some unidentifiable creature inside me yanked me back into the shadows of fear.
âYou canât promise that.â I pulled back from him and swiped at my tears. God, how many times had I cried over the past few months? I was turning into one of those weepy, dramatic characters I hated in TV shows, but there was nothing I could do about it. If I could control my emotions, we wouldnât be where we were. âWhatâs the difference between then and now, Dom? When we got married, you stood next to me and promised Iâd never face the world alone.â Shards of glass embedded in my chest. âBut I did.â
Emotion churned through the room like a summer storm, sudden and violent, sweeping away the pretty words and pulls of attraction to reveal the crux of it. The reason why, despite all the things Dominic had done and the true remorse heâd shown, I hadnât allowed myself to truly let go. He was sorry now because it was easy to be sorry. He had a team who could handle things while he took time off from the office, and he was lucky thereâd been no emergencies while he was gone. But what happened the next time he had to choose between another billion dollars and me? When there was a conflict between a VIP client meeting and a regular Friday night date?
Pain ravaged his face, but his response was quiet and steady. âThe difference is, back then, I thought I had nothing to lose. Now, I realize I have everything to lose.â Sadness reflected in his smile. âYou.â
You. I never thought one word could hurt so much.
The war between believing him and retreating to safety raged through me. Another small sob shook my shoulders as Dominic pressed his forehead to me.
âGive us another chance,â he begged. âOne last chance. I swear I wonât fuck it up. I know my word doesnât mean much to you anymore, but tell me what you want me to do, and Iâll do it.â His tears dripped into my own.
âAnything. Please.â
There was nothing he could do on his own that he hadnât already done. I could wait for a sign from the universe, some incontrovertible proof that Dominic had changed and wouldnât regress back to the uncaring workaholic Iâd lived with for far too long, but signs were open to interpretation. They existed at the whim of an unseen force, and I was tired of letting others dictate my life.
At the end of the day, I had to do what was best for me and go with my gut, and my gut told me that no matter how many people I dated or how far I tried to run, I couldnât outrun my heart.
âOne last chance.â Dominicâs body sagged with relief at my response.
âPlease donât break my heart,â I whispered. That was the only request I had.
âI wonât.â His ragged breaths matched my own. He kissed me again, his embrace so sweet and desperate and searching it seeped into every molecule of my body. âI lost you once, and I never want to lose you again.â
I had nothing except faith tethering me to his promises, but wasnât that the foundation of any relationship? Trust, communication, and faith that the other person loved us and that we could weather any storm together.
Dominic and I didnât work the first time, but sometimes, the strongest things were those that had been broken and healed.