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King of Wrath: Chapter 39

Dante

“Micetta, it’s so nice to see you!” Greta brushed past me and swept Vivian up in a hug. She only used the little kitten endearment for her grandchildren, but apparently, she’d extended it to Vivian. “The house isn’t the same without you.”

I scowled at her pointed tone. She’d given me the cold treatment all week. I was pretty sure she’d burned my pork chops on purpose the other night. I’d forced down two bites before I gave up and ordered takeout. It wasn’t just her, either; even Edward had cast disapproving glances my way when he thought I wasn’t looking.

My staff didn’t know what happened with Vivian. They only knew she was gone, and they blamed me for it.

Hell, I blamed myself too, which was why I was trying to make amends.

I’d spent the past two days since my call with Vivian planning the date, and my nerves were a humiliating wreck. I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a high school freshman asking out the most popular girl in school.

I pushed my hands into my pockets while Vivian returned Greta’s hug.

An irrational plume of green smoke curled through me.

Hell must be frigid if I was jealous of my damn seventy-four-year-old housekeeper.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Vivian said, her voice warm. “Not working too hard, I hope.”

“No, just making sure my boss—” Greta raised her voice even though I stood less than five feet away—“doesn’t mess up any more than he has. It’s a full-time job, micetta. Not for the faint of heart.”

Fucking Greta. Every day, I questioned why I hadn’t fired her yet.

An awkward silence bloomed.

Vivian glanced in my direction and quickly looked away. My already raw nerves shredded into ribbons.

“Well,” Greta said, obviously realizing she’d made things more uncomfortable than intended. “I’ll let you two get to it. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

She patted Vivian’s hand and glared at me as she passed.

Don’t fuck up, her eyes said.

My scowl deepened. Like I needed her to tell me that.

“Should I be wary of the fact the date is at your house?” Vivian asked.

I’d told her to dress comfortably, but even in a simple cotton sundress and sandals, she was so fucking beautiful it took my breath away.

Our house. “Not unless you’re scared of food and a good time.”

“You have a high opinion of your date planning skills.”

“You’ve never complained.”

She rolled her eyes, but my mouth curved at her faint smile. It was progress, no matter how small.

“So.” I cleared my throat as we walked toward the den, where I’d set everything up. “The Legacy Ball was a hit. The whole city’s buzzing about it.”

“They’re buzzing about Veronica Foster’s appearance more than anything,” she said. “Who could’ve guessed she has such good vocals?”

Most socialites who dabbled in the arts “succeeded” due to nepotism, not talent. Veronica was a surprising exception.

“You did,” I said. “You gave her a slot after watching her tape. I’m sure Buffy’s happy.”

“Yes. My reputation lives to see another day.”

Another awkward silence thudded between us.

Lau Jewels’s stock had plummeted to record low levels after a deluge of bad press. Vivian wasn’t too affected yet—I’d made sure of that—but she wasn’t immune to the whispers and speculation.

Things I had a hand in fomenting.

Guilt pierced my gut.

I’d played a Hail Mary at the ball Friday night. Part of me had expected her to slap me and storm off, but another, uncharacteristically idealistic part had hoped she would hear me out.

And she had.

I didn’t know what I did to deserve it, but I was fucking taking it.

We arrived at the den. I hesitated for a beat before opening the doors.

Get your shit together, Russo. I was in my late thirties. I was too old to be acting like a damn teenager on his first date.

But that was exactly what this was, minus the teenager part. Our first real date.

No lies, no secrets, no deceptions.

Just us.

A rush of anxiety spiked through me when Vivian surveyed the room with wide eyes.

I’d agonized over the date for hours before settling on something simple yet personal. Today wasn’t about the glitz and glamour. It was about spending time together and fixing our relationship.

She liked romance and astronomy, so I’d cued up some romantic fantasy about a fallen star who was actually a woman (or some shit like that) on the flat-screen TV. I’d never heard of the movie, but according to Greta’s granddaughter—yes, I’d resorted to asking a high schooler for help —it was “super cute.”

Over two dozen takeout containers sat on top of the coffee table next to Pringles, pickles, and pudding. I’d bought a vintage popcorn machine and rush-installed it yesterday for the full movie experience. The snack was disgusting, but Vivian and most of the world liked it for some godforsaken reason.

“You said you haven’t found a new favorite dumpling place after the shop in Boston closed, so I figured I’d help you,” I said when her eyes lingered on the takeout boxes. “Samples from thirty-four of the best dumpling places in the five boroughs, as determined by Sebastian Laurent himself.”

The CEO of the Laurent Restaurant Group was a renowned gastronome.

If he said something was good, it was good.

“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to stuff me with so much food I won’t be able to leave?” Vivian teased. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since she arrived.

I grinned. “Can’t confirm or deny, but if you want to stay, I won’t stop you.”

She hadn’t moved the rest of her belongings yet. I knew it was because she’d been busy with the Legacy Ball, but I took it as a sign they were already where they—and she—belonged. With me.

Vivian’s cheeks pinked, but she didn’t reply.

“How did you know this was one of my favorite movies growing up?” she asked when the film got underway.

She plucked a dumpling from one of the containers and took a delicate bite. I wasn’t sure she could fit all thirty-four in one day, but we could always try the ones she missed later.

“I didn’t,” I admitted. “I was looking for a movie about stars that wasn’t a documentary or sci-fi. Greta’s granddaughter helped me out. 

I should buy the girl a thank you present. Maybe a car, or a vacation of her choice.

“Taking advice from a teenager? Very un-Dante Russo-like.”

“Yeah, well, being Dante Russo-like hasn’t been the best decision lately.”

Our gazes touched. Her smile faded, leaving soft wariness behind.

“Luca came over Monday night,” I said. “I told him what happened. For the first time, he gave me advice instead of taking it. It was damn good advice too.”

“What did he say?”

“That I needed to fight for you. And he was right.”

Vivian’s breaths shallowed. Something exploded on screen, but we didn’t look away.

My heart slammed against my ribcage. The air thickened and sparked like kindling doused with gasoline, and just when the silence stretched to its breaking point, she spoke again.

“I confronted my father on Wednesday,” she said quietly, shocking the hell out of me. “I flew to Boston and showed up at his office. I didn’t tell him I was coming. I might’ve lost my nerve if I had.”

I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I gave her a gentle nudge.

“What happened?”

She toyed with her food. “Long story short, we got into a huge fight over what he did. He asked me to ask you to…help with the company’s troubles. I said no. And he disowned me.”

The words were matter of fact, but her voice was sad enough to make my heart ache.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I loathed Francis with the fire of a thousand suns, but he was her family. She loved him, and the split must’ve devastated her.

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but it is.” Vivian shook her head. “It was my choice. I could’ve gone along with what he wanted, but it wasn’t right. I was still a pawn to him, and I refused to let him use me to manipulate you.”

It would’ve worked.

Francis Lau had deduced my weakness. There was nothing I wouldn’t give Vivian if she asked.

“It’s your family’s company,” I said, watching her carefully. Honestly, I was surprised she wasn’t more upset about what I did. I’d pushed the button knowing it would hurt her family and, by extension, her. And I had no excuse other than my pride and thirst for vengeance. “What do you want to happen?”

“I don’t want it to crash, obviously. If I could help in any other way, I would. But…” She blew out a breath. “This is going to sound bad, but my father has never faced many consequences for his actions. He’s the boss in the office and at home. He does what he wants, and other people have to go with it. This is the first time he’s had to deal with repercussions. And the thing about him is, he only understands strength and power. Subtlety doesn’t work on him, not when it comes to things like this.”

“I don’t agree with what you did, but I understand it. So even though I should hate you…” Her voice lowered until it was barely audible. “I don’t.”

My knuckles turned white from gripping my knee. “Even if the company goes bankrupt?”

A frown tugged at her lips. “Do you think it will?”

“It’s very possible.” I didn’t take my eyes off her. “Tell me the truth, Vivian. Do you want me to step in and end it?”

We hadn’t reached a critical juncture yet. What’d been done to Lau Jewels was reversible, but there was a ticking clock on the operation. Soon, it would be out of even my hands.

“I will,” I said. “No manipulation from your father. No questions asked.

Just say the word.”

I meant what I said the other night. I loved her more than I ever hated Francis, and if being with her meant I had to save him, I’d do it without hesitation.

Vivian’s eyes shone in the light pouring from the TV. “Why do that when you went to all this trouble to punish him?”

“Because I don’t care about punishment or revenge anymore. I care about you.”

The shine brightened. A tiny tremble rolled through her when I brushed my thumb over her cheek, the food and movie forgotten.

I had no frame of reference for the indescribable ache in the pit of my stomach. It was endless and starved, satiated only by the softness of her skin beneath mine.

Vivian didn’t touch me back. But she also didn’t pull away.

“What are we doing, Dante?” she whispered.

My thumb traveled south and skimmed the curve of her bottom lip.

“We’re working things out the way any couple would.”

“Most couples aren’t as dysfunctional as we are.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little dysfunction. It keeps things interesting.” I smiled at her soft huff before turning serious again. “Move back in, mia cara. You can have your old room if you don’t feel comfortable sleeping in ours yet.” I swallowed. “Greta misses you. Edward misses you. I miss you. So damn much.”

Vivian dragged in a shaky breath. “You really think it’s that simple? I move back in and everything’s fixed?”

“No.” We were in a hell of a mess, and I wasn’t that naive. “But it’s a first step.” I removed my hand and brushed my lips over hers, just light enough to steal a hint of a taste. “You and me, sweetheart. That’s the destination. And I’m willing to take as many steps as I need to get there.”


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