King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, 4)

My father’s funeral came and went in a blur of solemn faces and whispered condolences. I gave a brief eulogy at Sloane and Eduardo’s insistence and spent the rest of the memorial floating between numbness and hyperactivity.

My brain hadn’t stopped churning since Sloane and I returned from La Candelaria. We made it back to the house without being ambushed by reporters and confirmed with Santos about the will’s wording.

She was right. My father hadn’t specified what I should be the CEO of, which was a glaring omission for a man with a famed sharklike business sense, but that was a question for another day. After Santos’s confirmation, things moved quickly. We gathered the rest of the inheritance committee, as I called them, and explained the situation.

Dante was the only missing member since he couldn’t make it to Colombia for my father’s funeral, but Eduardo looped him in via email.

It boiled down to this: My first CEO evaluation was in six months, which coincided with my thirtieth birthday. That meant I had half a year to figure out how to fulfill the will’s terms. Meanwhile, Eduardo would remain interim CEO of the Castillo Group while the company searched for a permanent leader.

Six months to become CEO of a company that didn’t exist and that had to pass muster with the committee at the first evaluation. Easier said than done.

The greatest gift we have is time.

My mother’s pocket watch weighed heavy in my pocket as I entered the Valhalla Club’s bar.

It was a week after my father’s funeral and my return to New York. I’d spent the past six days brooding over my situation, but it was time to get off my ass and do something.

I ordered the club’s signature drink and glanced around the dark-paneled room. Valhalla was an ultraexclusive club for the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. It had chapters all over the globe, and I was a member thanks to my mother, a descendant of one of the founding families. My father had made his fortune, but my mother had been born into money.

Despite my coveted membership, I rarely hung out at Valhalla. It was too stuffy for me, but it was the only place I could think of where I wouldn’t run into my New York circle of friends. They were fine for a good time, but they weren’t who I wanted to see in my current state of mind.

The bar was quiet this early in the afternoon. I was one of two people sitting at the counter; several stools down, a perfectly put-together Asian man with glasses and a bespoke Delamonte suit observed me with polite curiosity.

“No comment,” I said before he opened his mouth.

I slid the bartender a fifty-dollar tip when he brought my drink and drained half the glass in one swallow.

Kai Young lifted an amused brow. The CEO of the world’s most powerful media conglomerate wasn’t the type to ambush someone with questions about a family member’s death, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“I heard you were back in New York,” he said, tactfully ignoring my rudeness. His polished British accent fit seamlessly into our elegant surroundings, whereas I felt as out of place as a penguin in the Sahara. “How are you doing?”

“I’m drinking at one in the afternoon,” I said. “I’ve been better.”

If Sloane were here, she’d say my day drinking was par for the course. Luckily, she was too busy catching up on work to be on my ass about the CEO thing, though I wished she were here anyway.

After having her around twenty-four-seven for over a week, I missed her.

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one.” Kai tipped his head toward his glass. “I had a meeting earlier with a techpreneur who’s convinced he’s the next Steve Jobs, hence the scotch. I have to drown out an hour’s worth of misguided god complex.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Sounds like Silicon Valley.” Misguided god complex. If only I had one. It would make things easier.

I had a degree in business, which was a precondition for accessing my trust fund when I graduated, but I’d never started a business. I didn’t have the luxury of flying under the radar. If I failed, I failed in front of the entire world.

If I didn’t try, I would lose my inheritance. And yes, I recognized the irony of trying to grasp something I resented—aka my father’s money—but when I looked past my knee-jerk reaction, I recognized the truth in Sloane’s words. I had no idea what it was like to live without that financial cushion, and to be honest, the thought terrified me.

The only thing that made me feel less like a hypocrite was the fact I wouldn’t keep all the money, but that was a secret I kept to myself for now.

I glanced at Kai. Our social circles overlapped in the way most of Manhattan society’s did, but I didn’t know him well. He had a dry sense of humor I appreciated the hell out of though, and more importantly, he was best friends with Dante Russo, who’d somehow landed on my inheritance committee.

Dante hadn’t replied to Eduardo’s email or reached out save for a polite condolence note.

Did he even know he was in my father’s will?

Most likely, which made his silence all the more suspicious. “Have you talked to Dante recently?” I asked, abandoning subtlety in favor of directness.

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of Kai’s mouth. If Dante made it his job to know everything, Kai’s job was to know everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten his hands on the will before I touched down in New York.

“We spoke yesterday,” he said, his tone mild. “Why?”

“No reason.” I drummed my fingers on the counter, mentally running through the committee members.

Sloane was on my side, but she wouldn’t lie if my business turned out to be crap in six months. Eduardo and Tío Martin would give me as much grace as they could. Mariana hated my fucking guts. Dante…well, he was the wild card.

Luca’s brother wasn’t my biggest fan, but could I trust him to be fair regardless of his feelings toward me?

“Xavier, I’m not a journalist after a story. What we discuss is strictly private.” Kai paused, then added, “I speak with Sloane often. I understand how to keep confidentiality.”

It suddenly clicked. That was why Kai was suddenly so interested in my affairs. Since Sloane was the one who’d discovered the loophole in the will, she’d taken it upon herself to act as my unofficial business consultant. My inheritance clause wasn’t a secret, though the committee members were; she must’ve said something to either Vivian, Dante, Kai, or all of the above.

The wheels started spinning. If I was serious about starting a new company, I needed allies, and the CEO of the Young Corporation was one of the most powerful allies I could get.

“As a matter of fact,” I said, piecing together a plan on the spot. “There is something I want to discuss with you…”

Two hours and several drinks later, Kai left for another meeting while I headed upstairs to the library.

It was the heart of the club, and it buzzed with activity as people forged deals, cemented alliances, and shared intel. However, no one paid me any mind as I took a seat at the grand center table, directly beneath the founding families’ panels, where my mother’s bear family crest was carved in between the Russos’ dragon and the Youngs’ lion.

I retrieved the watch from my pocket and rubbed a thumb over the smooth gold case, my mind churning from my conversation with Kai and the events of the past week.

Fact #1: There was no way my father could’ve overlooked something as basic as naming the company in his will. Granted, he’d been deathly ill when he changed it, which wasn’t an inconsiderable factor, but if he had been aware of the omission, what was his endgame? To make me do something even if it wasn’t what he wanted?

No. My father would never be that compromising. Last option dismissed.

Fact #2: On paper, I had six months to figure my shit out. In reality, I should’ve figured it out yesterday. Starting a solid business in New York, in that short amount of time, was near impossible.

Fact #3: If I didn’t at least try, I would regret it forever. Out of all life’s questions, what if was one of the worst.

There’s potential in each and every one of us, and I hope you fulfill yours to the point of happiness.

My chest clenched. Would my mother think I’d fulfilled my potential? Probably not, but fuck, I missed her. I always did, but it used to be a dull, steady ache that hummed in the background. Ever since I read her letter, it’d been a knife that lanced through me, frequently and often.

I’d never stopped blaming myself for what happened to her. It didn’t matter what my childhood therapists or grief counselors said; guilt wasn’t bound by reason or technicalities.

That being said, I couldn’t change the past. I could, however, dictate my future.

Be proud of the person you’ve become and the person you’ll grow into.

I pulled out the sheet of paper Kai had handed me before he left. Like me, he’d been born into wealth, but his position hadn’t been handed to him. He’d worked his way up from the mailroom to the head position at the Young Corporation, and his circle was a who’s who of the corporate world.

My contacts could get anyone an invite to any party and access to any club, but his contacts could help build an empire.

I stared at the list of names he’d scribbled down.

In order to be a CEO, I needed a team. To hire a team, I needed a plan. To execute that plan, I required funding and legitimacy.

My reputation as a partier worked against me, which meant I needed a partner people respected. Someone reliable, established, trustworthy, and relevant to the business I had in mind.

There was only one man in Manhattan who fit that description.

I dialed the first number on the list. It was his private line, and he picked up on the first ring.

“This is Xavier Castillo,” I said, hoping to God I wouldn’t regret this down the road. “Are you free next week? I’d like to talk.”