King of Wrath (Kings of Sin, #1)

by Ana Huang

“Because you’re mine.” His teeth scored my neck. “You wear my ring. You’ve come on my face and hand. You live in my head all the fucking time, even if I don’t want you to...” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”

My eyes fluttered closed, only to fly open again when a hand closed around my neck. “Open your eyes,” Dante growled. “Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you.” I did. The sight that greeted me was almost enough to tip me over the edge.

“You like this?” he taunted. “Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?”

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” His voice turned harsh. “You”—thrust—”are”—thrust—”my”—thrust—”wife.”

Dante’s grip tightened around my throat. “Maybe not,” he said darkly. “But you are mine. You asked if it was still just business…” He dragged his cock out slowly, letting me feel every inch of him, before slamming it back in.

Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you. You like this? Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?

I sighed. “On that note, if we’re setting new boundaries, I have a few of my own. One…” I ticked them off on my fingers. “No more scowling as your default expression. Your face is close to freezing that way, and I’d rather not wake up to the Grinch for the rest of my life.”

“Ride my cock like a good girl.”

“Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat while I fuck you from behind?”

“Shh,” Dante murmured. “You don’t want people to hear how much you love being fucked like this, do you? On all fours in the backseat of a car, taking every inch of my cock like you’re fucking made for it.”

“Might want to fix your lipstick, mia cara. As beautiful as you look freshly fucked, I would hate to ruin our evening by having to kill every other man who sees you like this.”

A ball of emotion formed in my throat. “How did you…” He followed my gaze to Orion. It sparkled front and center, shining more brightly than the rest. “I had a call with your sister. She told me it was your favorite.” He guided me into the room. “Apparently, you wouldn’t shut up about Orion when you were younger. Her words.” Agnes would say that.

“Dante Russo, are you trying to impress me?”

Grumpy, brooding Dante had grown on me the past few months. But sweet, playful Dante? He was kryptonite to my heart.

“Honestly, couples who don’t fight freak me out. They’re like one broken dish away from snapping. The next thing you know, they’ll be the subjects of a Netflix documentary series titled Love and Murder: The Couple Next Door.”

“I didn’t tell her off,” I refuted. “I presented an alternative viewpoint.” “You told her off,” Isabella said. “There was a moment when I thought she would have a coronary and collapse right into your eggs. Buffy and Benedict, the new brunch combo.”

“Nice way to spin it. Are you sure it’s not because you have separation anxiety?” I teased. “I didn’t use to.” His eyes held mine like a lone flame flickering on a cold winter night. “But I’m beginning to think I might.”

“Se sapessi il potere che hai su di me,” I said, my voice ragged.

“I just remembered I’m expecting a grocery delivery soon,” Greta said. “Let me check where they are.” She dropped her knife and bolted faster than an Olympian competing for gold.

Our mom refused to stay there whenever she visited because she hated how the animals shed everywhere. I think that only encouraged Agnes to get more pets.

“Do I need to sharpen my knives and prepare contingency plans for a homicide charge?” I mustered a weak laugh. “No. Nothing quite that drastic.”

Instead, I curled into a fetal position and gave in to the sobs wracking my body. They crashed over me, one after another, until my throat turned raw and wetness scalded my cheeks. But no matter how hard I cried or how much I shook, I couldn’t make a sound. My sobs remained silent, felt but unheard.

“He’s been sitting and drinking these past few days like his no-good great uncle Agostino used to do. Non mi piace parlare male dei morti, ma grazie al cielo non è più qui con noi.”

Forget Romano’s wrath. I was seconds away from giving into mine and strangling him with my bare hands.

Realization punched me in the chest, so hard and sudden I swore I heard a crack. Bruised heart, fractured ribs, stolen breath, all in the space of a minute. It was like my body was punishing me for not recognizing the truth earlier when it’d been so damn obvious. The way I’d stayed in bed longer every morning just to catch her first smile of the day. The way our takeout lunch dates became my favorite part of the work week. The way I’d opened up to her about my family, my life, myself… And the way watching her walk away on Monday had cost me an irretrievable piece of my soul.

“Did Leaf tell you that?” “Nah.” Another grin. “I read an article about the seven sins in my dentist’s waiting room.”

His voice dropped, turning raw. “You’ve been gone less than a week and I already feel like I’ve spent an eternity in hell.” The breath fled my lungs. Oxygen solidified

He followed me to the door and held it open. “If not a date, then your number. I promise I won’t prank call you or send you inappropriate photos.” A wicked slant of his lips. “Unless you want them, of course.”

One ring. Two. Three.

Four rings. Five.

Six rings. Sev—

“Hi. This is Dante.” “Dante…” she mused, like she was trying to remember who I was. At least she was playing along. Progress. “We met at the coffee shop this afternoon,” I reminded her with a touch of amusement. “Ah, right. You’re supposed to wait three days,” Vivian said. “Calling a woman the same day you get her number could be considered desperate.”

“I am desperate.”

She was quiet for so long I double-checked whether she’d hung up. She hadn’t.

“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.

She patted Vivian’s hand and glared at me as she passed. Don’t fuck up, her eyes said.

“Tell me what you want, Vivian. Do you want me on my knees?” Oh God.

could go back in time and stop your father from blackmailing me, I wouldn’t. Otherwise…” His voice dipped, just the tiniest fraction. “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Per te aspetterei per sempre, amore mio.” “Spero non ci vorrà così tanto.“ I smiled at his shock. “I speak six languages, Dante. Italian is one of them.”

The ring blazed like a fallen star against midnight black.

“A family heirloom,” Vivian murmured, her voice thick. “Yes. One that reminds me very much of you. Beautiful, rare, and difficult as hell to find…but worth every minute it took to get there.”

“I spent thirty-seven years thinking my perfect match didn’t exist. You proved me wrong in less than one. And even though we didn’t do it right the first time, I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to prove myself a second time.” My pulse thumped with nerves as the most important question of my life left my mouth. “Vivian Lau, will you marry me?”

Vivian once told me about a Chinese proverb that said an invisible thread connected those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance.

I used to think we wouldn’t be together if her father hadn’t forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.

“What about the people?” I tilted my chin up. “Anyone tolerable?” “Hmm. There is this woman I’ve been eyeing all night…” Dante dipped his head so his lips brushed mine. “She’s beautiful, charming, has the best smile I’ve ever seen…but I think she’s married.” “How…unfortunate.”

“Very.” Another brush of his lips. “I hear her husband is quite protective of her. If he sees me talking to her, he might do something rash.”