King of Greed (Kings of Sin, 3)

It was official. I was divorced.

The papers went through exactly six weeks after Dominic signed them.

Most divorces took three to six months in New York, but Cole managed to pull some strings and expedite the process.

I thought I would feel different. Lighter, freer, happier, but I only felt numb as I went through the motions of setting up my shop.

I’d had a lawyer look over the lease Aiden sent and it all looked good, so things had moved as quickly on that front as they had for my divorce.

“Ále. Ále!”

I startled at my name. The coffee I was pouring overflowed from its mug and spilled onto my temporary desk.

“Merda! ” I cursed and scrambled to shove papers out of the way before they got soaked. My friends helped, though I suspected their tangible worry had less to do with ruined order sheets and more to do with me.

Isabella was drafting her next novel in the shop since the construction noise “helped her focus,” and Vivian and Sloane had dropped by on their lunch breaks. It was out of the way for both of them, but they’d been extra solicitous since the divorce.

“Here.” Vivian ripped a paper towel off a nearby roll and handed it to me so I could wipe the coffee off my skin. “Are you okay? Do you need ice?”

“I’m fine.” Luckily, the liquid had already been lukewarm when I poured it. “I just got lost in thought.”

She exchanged glances with Isabella and Sloane. The sounds of drills and construction from the bathroom filled the silence. Workers had been coming in and out for the past two weeks, renovating the old interiors and installing new tiling. The store wouldn’t be ready for at least another three or four months, but at least the prep would keep me busy through the holidays.

My first holiday season without Dominic in a decade. “Thinking about him again?” Isabella asked softly during a lull in the noise.

“It’s inevitable.” I forced a smile. “We were married for so long. It’ll take me time to adjust.”

My friends tried their best to take my mind off him. We went out dancing, took a weekend road trip to see the fall colors in New Hampshire, and gorged on popcorn with jalapeño peppers while watching Sloane’s much hated/loved rom-coms. It worked in the moment, but when I was alone, the hollow in my chest returned with a vengeance.

“Exactly. You need to adjust.” Sloane tossed her empty salad bowl into the trash. “Which is exactly why you should jump into the dating pool again. The best way to forget the old is to move on with the new.”

Vivian shook her head. “It’s too soon. Let her enjoy being single.”

“Dating is part of the single experience,” Sloane countered. “I’m not saying she should jump into another relationship, but she should at least get a feel for what else is out there. It’ll help take her mind off—”

“She is standing right here.” I interrupted before she could say Dominic’s name. I hadn’t gone on a date with anyone else in so long that the mere thought made me itch with anxiety. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Of course you do.” Sloane’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her fingers flying over the screen as she dealt with whatever new PR crisis had just popped up. “But you’ve spent eleven years with the same man. It’s time to broaden your horizons. Think about it.”

Despite my best efforts, her words echoed in my head for the rest of the afternoon. I’d gone on a handful of dates that never went anywhere before Dominic, but I’d never been a one-night stand person. I needed an emotional connection for sex. Then again, I wasn’t twenty-one anymore.

Maybe Sloane was right and I should broaden my horizons. There was no harm in trying, right?

The construction workers left, and I was preparing to lock up when the door opened and Aiden walked in. He wore his standard uniform of flannel and jeans, and his warm smile flashed white against his beard.

“I was in the area and thought I’d drop by,” he explained. He handed me a to-go cup from the coffee shop down the street. “Matcha. Figured you don’t need espresso this late in the day.”

“Thank you.” I took a grateful sip and examined him over the paper rim.

Aiden hadn’t been joking when he’d said he was hands-on with his tenants. He checked up on me frequently, not in a creepy or overbearing way but in a helpful way—probably because he knew I had zero experience opening a retail store—and he’d referred me to his trusted contractors when I was overwhelmed by the choices. “How are things going?” he asked. “The guys aren’t giving you a hard time, I hope.”

“No, they’ve been great. They said everything should be ready after New Year’s.” It would be sooner if the holidays didn’t slow everything down. I wasn’t complaining; as much work as I put into the shop, the prospect of actually opening it made me want to throw up. What if I didn’t get in-person customers? What if I accidentally set the place on fire? What if it got vandalized or a pipe broke or…or I got held up one night during closing time? It was a safe neighborhood, but still. Running a brick-and-mortar store was a lot different than running an online business, and I’d jumped headfirst into it without much planning or forethought.

“Good,” Aiden said. “I’m sure it’ll be a hit. The cafe was a good idea.”

Since I doubted I would get much foot traffic hawking flowers alone, I’d added a few elements to my original business plan. Once it was finished, the space would be part gallery, part flower shop, and part cafe.

“Yes. Nothing draws New Yorkers like a good…” I trailed off when I caught a glimpse of blond hair outside the window.

Tall frame. Tailored suit. Expensive.

My heart leapt into my throat. Then the man turned, and it crashed to earth again.

Not Dominic. Just someone who bore a passing resemblance to him.

I wished I could say it was the first time I mistook a stranger for my ex-husband. I hadn’t seen him since he signed the papers, but the specter of his presence haunted me on every corner.

Was there a support group for this type of thing? A Divorcees Anonymous where we could exorcise the ghosts of marriages past? My mother was the only divorced person I knew, and her advice was less useful than a paper umbrella in a rainstorm.

“Alessandra?” Aiden prompted, bringing my attention back to him.

“Sorry. I thought I…I thought I saw someone I knew.” I took another sip of my drink and took solace in its earthy warmth.

Bringing me matcha instead of espresso had been a thoughtful gesture, not that I was surprised. Aiden was always thoughtful. Why couldn’t I have married someone like him instead? He was nice, attentive, and seemed content with his life. Granted, my interactions with him had been limited to discussions of plumbing and the best local takeout so far, but maybe they didn’t have to be.

You’ve spent eleven years with the same man. It’s time to broaden your horizons.

Sloane’s advice crept through my head again, and I took the leap before I could chicken out.

“By the way, do you have any plans for tomorrow night?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual instead of jittery.

Breathe. You can do this.

Aiden’s brows rose an inch. “Nothing concrete. I usually catch a game with friends at a bar, but that’s flexible.”

I may not have dated in years, but even I recognized a deliberate opening when I saw it.

“Do you want to grab dinner? A friendly one,” I rushed out. I wasn’t ready for a real, official date yet, but this was as close as I could get for now. “I want to thank you for referring me to the contractors. I would’ve spent weeks trying to find good ones if it weren’t for you.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, followed by a pleased grin. “I would love to get dinner with you.”

This was a mistake.

It’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d invited Aiden to dinner, and I already wanted to kick my past self for her foolishness.

We’d said it was a platonic date, but I’d gotten my hair done and he’d cleaned up in a dress shirt and non-denim pants.

He looked nice, really nice, but everything seemed wrong. The scent of his cologne, the way he guided me through the restaurant with his hand on my arm instead of the small of my back…it was like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong slot.

Stop overthinking things. You had years to get comfortable with Dominic, and you barely know Aiden. Of course it’ll feel weird at the beginning.

“I’ve never been to this restaurant,” Aiden said as we sat at our table.

“But I’ve heard great things.”

“Me too.”

An awkward silence descended. We conversed so easily at the shop, but outside the box of our previously defined relationship, I couldn’t think of a single interesting thing to say.

Should I talk about the weather? The upcoming holidays? The article I’d read about a rat infestation on one of the subway lines? Probably not. It was New York. There was always a rat infestation.

Luckily, our server arrived soon after and saved us from drowning in the tension.

“We’ll have the merlot. Thank you,” Aiden said when the server presented the wine list and I told him to choose. After all, it was his thank you dinner.

“Don’t you…” I bit back the rest of my sentence.

Dominic always ordered a cabernet, our mutual favorite, but I wasn’t on a date with him. I would never go on another date with him again.

The burn that spread behind my eyes was so fierce and sudden I didn’t have time to steel myself. One second, I was thinking about pasta and dessert; the next, I was on the verge of tearing up over a complimentary basket of garlic bread.

Get a hold of yourself.

I was having a perfectly palatable dinner with a perfectly nice, handsome man. I should not be thinking about my ex-husband. But despite my moving out, Dominic signing the papers, and Cole’s call informing me everything had gone through without a hitch last week, it hadn’t hit me that I was divorced until that moment.

No ring. No marriage. No Dominic.

I grabbed my water and chugged it, hoping it would wash away the taste of my failed relationship. It didn’t.

“You okay?” Aiden asked gently. Our server had left, and he watched me with a cautious expression that made me want to cry all over again. “We can take a rain check if you’re not feeling well.”

He was tactful enough to give me an out that didn’t involve mentioning my teetering meltdown. I’m the worst dinner date in the world.

“No. I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “I just had something in my eye.” I could stick it out for one meal. It was food and conversation, not torture.

“You recently came back from upstate, right? How was that?”

Whether it was the wine, impeccable pasta, or my utter determination to salvage the evening, Aiden and I finally hit our stride during the main course.

“Honestly, my dream is to retire upstate,” he said. “I’m not a big city person. If it weren’t for business, I’d be in a cabin somewhere, drinking beer and soaking in the fresh air. Fishing, hikes on the weekend. The good life.”

“That sounds wonderful.” I hadn’t gone hiking in a while, but my brother and I used to go all the time during our summers in Brazil. I missed it. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but when I first saw you, I thought you looked like, well…” I coughed, second-guessing my moment of truth. “Like a lumberjack.”

Aiden’s boisterous laugh turned every head in the tiny trattoria and cooled the blush heating my cheeks.

“Nah. It’s a compliment. And if we’re on the subject of honest first impressions…” He leaned forward, his face softening. “When I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

In theory, his confession should’ve given me butterflies. In practice, it made me feel…nothing. He might as well be a robot reading me the ingredients off a can of soup.

I took a gulp of wine, trying to think of an appropriate response that wouldn’t lead him on.

“Aiden, I—”

“Alessandra.” The deep, cold voice sent goose bumps scattering over my arms.

My glass froze halfway to the table. No. After six weeks of radio silence, this couldn’t possibly be the night I ran into him again. The universe wouldn’t have such a sick sense of humor.

But when I glanced up, there he was. My ex-husband in all his infuriating blond, chiseled glory. He wore a crisp button-down, an expensive watch, and a stony expression as he rested his hand on the back of my chair with an intimacy he no longer had rights to.

“Dominic.” I didn’t bother hiding my displeasure.

Across the table, Aiden flicked his eyes between us with dawning comprehension. I’d mentioned the divorce to him in passing, and I could practically see him putting two and two together.

“What a coincidence running into you here,” I said stiffly. “We’re in the middle of dinner, so if there’s something you’d like to discuss, we can do it later.”

“I see that.” A muscle ticked in Dominic’s jaw. “Camila found some of your books in the library the other day. You should pick them up.”

“I’ll send someone next week.” There was no way in hell I would step inside the penthouse again. The last time I had gone home with him, we’d…

A flush crept beneath my skin. I craved another sip of wine for courage, but I refused to let him see the effect he had on me, so I kept my hands planted on the table, where my ringless finger looked especially bare against the white tablecloth.

“There’s also the matter of your art and kitchen goods,” Dominic said.

“You need to pick out which ones you want.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

“That’s not what your lawyer said.”

“My lawyer was overzealous.” I pasted on a smile. He was obviously stalling; if the home goods were so important, he would’ve reached out about them before tonight. “You can keep everything. I’ll buy new items.

Fresh start and all.”

His jaw ticked again.

“Sebastian is waiting.” I nodded at where his friend sat a few tables down, watching us with a curious expression. The normally suave French billionaire looked a little worse for wear. The Laurent brand had taken a beating since Martin Wellgrew’s death at Le Boudoir. He’d been allergic to peanuts, and the medical examiner had officially ruled it death by anaphylaxis due to traces of peanut in Wellgrew’s supposedly nut-free dinner, which wasn’t great for the restaurant it had taken place in. “Like I said, we can talk later.”

I forced myself to meet Dominic’s gaze as he stared down at me, his eyes unreadable. Then, just when I thought he’d refuse to leave, he released his hold on my chair and walked away without another word.

My breath escaped in a painful rush.

“I’m sorry about that.” I faced Aiden again and attempted a smile. “He can be a little…intense.”

“That’s all right.” Concern and a hint of amusement glinted in his eyes.

“I’m guessing that was the infamous ex-husband.”

“What gave it away? The rude interruption or the weird fixation on kitchen items?”

“I don’t think it’s the items he’s fixated on.”

I hated the tiny jolt that followed his words. I’d begged Dominic to let me go, and he had. In the long run, it was a good thing, but in the short run, part of me twisted uncomfortably at the prospect of him moving on. It was hypocritical, considering I was the one on a quasi-date, but emotions weren’t rational.

Aiden rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with what I said earlier. I meant it, but I’m also not expecting anything from this dinner other than a nice evening out with someone whose company I enjoy. You just went through a divorce and I’m, well, I’m in no place to start a relationship either. Maybe things will change down the road, but for now, let’s take things at face value. How does that sound?”

He had an uncanny knack for saying exactly what I needed to hear.

“That sounds perfect.”

Without the expectations that’d tainted the first half of dinner, I finally relaxed. Conversation flowed easily, and by the time dessert arrived, I could almost ignore the dark blue stare burning a hole in my side.

Aiden excused himself to use the restroom while I finished my tiramisu.

He hadn’t been gone for more than thirty seconds before a familiar clean, woody scent filled my senses.

I stiffened again, my eyes locking with Dominic’s as he took the other man’s vacated seat. Aiden filled it naturally, but Dominic overpowered it.

Broad shoulders, cool eyes, sculpted jaw. Every inch of him oozed arrogance and intensity.

“That seat is taken.”

“Was that your new landlord?” Dominic ignored my pointed remark.

“How…never mind.” Of course he knew Aiden was my landlord. He probably knew the man’s Social Security number, home address, and preferred breakfast items too. Dominic was meticulous about digging into the people in his life, no matter how peripheral. “Whether he is or isn’t is none of your business. We’re not married anymore. I can go on a date with whoever I want.”

“Is that what this is?” The tiniest flicker passed through his eyes. “A date?”

“Yes.” A platonic one, but he didn’t need to know that. I lifted my chin, challenging him to push back.

“He’s not your type.”

“I’m trying new types. The old one didn’t work out so well for me.”

He tried to hide it, but I didn’t miss the fissure in his cool expression or the trickle of hurt that leaked through.

Don’t feel bad for him. He deserves it. I curled my fingers around the edge of my chair so hard they hurt.

“You can go on as many dates as you want, amor,” Dominic said softly.

“But no one will love you like I do. Você e eu. Não tem comparação. ”

The words curled through me, warm and aching and filled with nostalgia for days past.

My smile hid the painful thrum behind my ribcage. “That sounds like a good thing to me.”

“Is there a problem?” Aiden returned, his expression decidedly less friendly when he saw Dominic in his seat.

“No problem.” I didn’t take my eyes off my ex-husband. “He was just leaving. Weren’t you, Dominic?”

The curve of his mouth lacked humor. He stood, his body unfurling with a lethal grace that drew several admiring glances, both male and female.

“Enjoy the rest of your dinner.” He tapped the spot next to my wineglass on his way past. “He should’ve ordered the cabernet.”

The intimate murmur brushed a shiver down my spine. I held my breath until Dominic returned to his seat across from Sebastian, who appeared unconcerned that his dinner partner had abandoned him halfway through the meal.

“You okay?” Aiden touched my shoulder.

“Yes.” I forced another smile. “I’m done, so let’s get out of here.” As expected, he tried to pay for the meal, but I’d had the foresight of paying ahead of time. I really did need to thank him for his help with the contractors, and after so many years of depending on Dominic for money, it felt empowering to pay my own way.

Aiden and I parted ways with a friendly, semi-awkward goodbye, and I managed to hold myself together throughout the ride to Sloane’s apartment.

I’d found a new place near her, but my lease didn’t start until January, so I was staying with her through the holidays.

It was only after the cab dropped me off in front of her building that I sagged. I leaned against the exterior and sucked in a lungful of cold air as I tried to clear my senses of all things Dominic. The sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne, the soft brush of his suit against my skin.

I was trying to get over him, but that was hard when everything reminded me of him. The city was a monument to our relationship—our first getaway, our home, our demise.

Tu e eu. Não tem comparação.

The streetlights cast a warm glow over the sidewalk. People hurried past, dressed up for a night out or eager for a night in. Across the street, a line stretched outside a new Brazilian steakhouse. It made me think of my brother, who was busy living it up in São Paulo. I envied him. He wasn’t married, he wasn’t dating, he wasn’t heartbroken. He was free and enjoying life the way he deserved. If only…

I straightened, my skin tingling with a sudden burst of inspiration.

If everything in the city reminded me of Dominic, maybe it was time to get out of the city.

I hurried into the lobby and dialed a familiar number. “Hey,” I said when my brother picked up. “I have an idea.”