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“In that case.” She smiles sweetly, which I know is as fake as her social circles. “Have a horrible evening.”
She nearly rattles the goddamn door off its hinges as she slams it shut and storms to the entrance with a ferocious yet entirely enticing sway of her hips.
I shake my head out of the reverie I’m in when I catch myself watching the door long after she goes inside.
Count to ten.
You can’t fuck the attitude out of her. Yet.
Get it together.
I shoot Henderson and Sam a text, reminding them of their pending execution if they let her out of their sight.
Sam replies with a thumbs-up emoji and Henderson reacts with a thumbs-up to my text.
Bunch of unfeeling wankers.
My favorite type of people.
“Nice of you tograce us with your mythical presence.”
I smile at my father as I grab a flute of champagne from a passerby. “No need for a standing ovation, Daddy dearest.”
He’s not amused by that. Not one bit.
But then again, my father is one hundred percent bulletproof to my impeccable charms and finds my shenanigans extraordinarily tiring, insufficiently creative, and massively headache-inducing.
“Mind explaining why you left in the middle of a meeting?”
“An emergency.” That caused damage to a one-of-a-kind car, a ridiculous liquor bill, and a migraine I had to down a few ibuprofens to drown. All because of an infuriating woman who has pink, glitter, and my pending demise up her sleeve.
I throw a fleeting glance at the men around us. Gentleman’s club. Naturally, I was introduced here when I hit puberty and my father—and grandfather—decided I’d be the perfect successor for their empire.
I am.
Don’t believe anything my cousin Landon tells you. He’s not my competitor or my counterpart.
He definitely is not the best King grandchild as he claims. He’ll have to work harder to be me when he grows up.
The men around us mingle in circles, wearing stuffy Ralph Lauren blazers, smoking cigars, and discussing the latest tax laws and ways to keep their money out of the king’s treasury.
Old money reeks from the dark wallpaper like a stench I enjoyed wallowing in.
My father steps into my space, looking sharp in a tailored dark-brown suit Mum got for him. She spoils the man too much, if you ask me, but she loves him.
A useless emotion that’s done no one any good. Except for producing me, but I’m a miracle for everyone’s existence.
“If you have no intention of taking your role seriously, kindly piss off to your mother’s side of the family and leave the grown-ups to do business at King Enterprises.” His calmly spoken words are neither a threat nor a jab. They’re simply a statement.
One would think that since I’m a clone of him—same jet-black hair, build, frosty gray eyes, and deep-seated disregard for people’s intelligence, or lack thereof—he’d spoil me more.
But then again, he’s probably jealous because I’m better-looking than him. After all, I have some of Mum’s genes, and he’s beneath that woman’s league. Just saying.
“You and I both know I’ve brought the most profit to the company since I became CFO, and my numbers are only exceeded by you and Uncle Levi. So how about you be proud ofme and consider stepping down sometime soon with Uncle so I can do things my way?”
“If your way is alienating possible partners by keeping their children on a leash and threatening to expose, imprison, or have them killed, then I’ll have to pass.”
Well, well.
