KING OF EMPIRE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

     Isabella

The rest of dinner at Monarch passed without incident, but that was the
last time I saw Kai for another week.
He didn’t show up for his usual Thursday night drink at the bar, and I
told myself I didn’t care. There’d been a time when I would’ve taken Kai’s
aloofness as a challenge and dove headfirst into a forbidden fling, but I
wasn’t that girl anymore.
No, the new Isabella was responsible. Focused. She had direction, and
she would prove her oldest, know-it-all brother wrong if it killed her.
“Stop ignoring his calls, Isa.” Felix walked past with an armful of fuzzy
red tubes. “You know he won’t stop until you answer.”
My phone vibrated with another insistent buzz, underscoring his point.
I ignored it, as I had all morning. I’d learned my lesson after picking up
Gabriel’s last call and getting saddled with a ridiculous deadline for my
book.
I bet my favorite black leather boots he was calling to check on my
progress. Unlike normal people, Gabriel texted for emergencies and called
for bullshit, so I wasn’t worried about a health scare for Mom or an
earthquake destroying our family home in California.
“That’s precisely why I’m not answering,” I told Felix. “I like to imagine
his face getting all red and sweaty like that time I shrunk his favorite dress
shirt when he came home from college.”
My second-oldest brother laughed and shook his head

Of all my siblings, he was the one I was closest to. Not in terms of age
(that would be Romero) or temperament (that would be Miguel), but in
terms of sheer compatibility. Unlike anal-retentive Gabriel, Felix was so
laid-back no one would believe he was a renowned artist.
He lived in L.A.’s hip Silver Lake neighborhood most of the year, but he
kept a small art studio/apartment in New York since he had so many shows
here. He’d landed yesterday and was busy putting the final touches on his
sculpture for some big art show next month.
Since I hated working in silence, I’d crashed his studio time with my
laptop, a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and a ruthless determination to finish
chapter ten before my shift. I was finally making progress on my book, and
I wanted to wring out every bit of momentum before it inevitably fizzled
out on me.
“Be nice, Isa. It’s probably nothing.” Felix twisted two of the red tubes
into a double helix shape. He’d tried to explain the sculpture’s symbolism
earlier, and I’d nearly passed out from boredom. As much as I loved him, I
wasn’t built for that type of art appreciation. “I bet he wants to know what
you’re buying Mom for her birthday so we don’t accidentally double up.”
I hadn’t told him about the manuscript ultimatum, and I’m guessing
Gabriel hadn’t either.
“We won’t. The day we come to an agreement on anything, including
gifts, is the day hell experiences an Arctic freeze.” I switched topics before
Felix could probe further. He was the peacemaker of the family, so he was
always trying to wrangle us into some semblance of harmony. “Speaking of
Mom’s birthday, are you bringing your new girlfriend?”
“Maybe,” Felix said noncommittally. He went through girlfriends like
candy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a new one by the time February
rolled around. “What about you? Mom’s been banging on about your love
life since…”
Him.
The unspoken word hung between us like a guillotine poised to drop. It
dug into my bones, excavating memories long buried beneath piles of guilt
and shame while a thick lump clinched my throat.
The clink of ice against glass. The gleam of a signet ring beneath the
lights. The echoes of a deep voice whispering all the words I’d wanted to
hear.
I love you. I miss you. We’ll go away, just the two of us.
A fantasy that ended in tears, blood, and betrayal. Two years later, I was
still grappling with the fallout from my younger self’s stupid decisions.
The lump expanded, pressing against my nose and the backs of my eyes
until the studio blurred.
I blinked away my tears and typed a random word just so I had
something to do. “No. I don’t bring guys home anymore.”
For a brief, unbidden moment, dark eyes and a crisp British accent
flashed through my mind before I batted them away.
Kai and I weren’t lovers. We weren’t even friends. He had no business
invading my thoughts like that.
When I looked up again, Felix was watching me with his signature
knowing stare. “It’s been two years,” he said gently. “You can’t let that
asshole ruin your trust in relationships forever.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it.” He’d shared similar sentiments before,
and my lies tasted less bitter every time I uttered them. It wasn’t that I
didn’t trust relationships as a concept; it was more that I didn’t trust myself.
But he didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been busy. You know, with work and
the book.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but in true Felix fashion, he didn’t press
the issue. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I have single
friends.”
That pulled a genuine smile out of me. “You’re the only brother I know
who would willingly set up their sister with a friend. Also thanks, but no
thanks. I would rather die.”
I shuddered at the thought of sleeping with anyone who was associated
with a family member in any way. I was a firm believer in the separation of
church (the sanctity of my sex life) and state (surveillance from my mother
and overprotective brothers).
“I’m an excellent judge of character,” Felix said, unfazed by my disgust.
“I wouldn’t set you up with someone you wouldn’t like.”
“I’m not worried about that because you’re not setting me up with
anyone.” I glanced at the top corner of my screen and cursed when I saw
the time. “Shit! I have to go. I’m going to be late for work!”
So much for finishing chapter ten.
I scrambled off the couch, shoved my laptop into my bag, and rushed to
the exit. Felix’s studio was downtown; Valhalla was uptown. It’d take me at
least forty-five minutes to get there via subway, barring any delays or
disruptions.
“You’re coming to my exhibition, right?” Felix called after me. “They’re
finalizing the guest list today.”
I waved a hand over my shoulder. “I’ll be there!”
By the time I swiped my card at the nearest subway station, I was out of
breath and drenched with sweat beneath my coat. Parker was laid-back
about most things, but she was a tyrant when it came to punctuality. She’d
fired my predecessor for showing up ten minutes late after a train fire.
Luckily, the transportation gods were on my side, and I made it to
Valhalla Club with minutes to spare.
My relief was short-lived, however, because when I stepped behind the
counter, I immediately caught Tessa’s worried expression. She widened her
eyes at me and flicked them toward the bar.
I followed her gaze, down…down…all the way to the man seated with a
smug smile and eyes fixed on me like a predator spotting prey.
Oh, fuck. “Isabella.” The cold, oily voice sent a thousand invisible insects skittering
over my skin. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” My smile was tight enough to double as a Victorian-era
corset. “What can I get for you, Mr. Black?”
Victor Black assessed me with those flat dark eyes. He was the CEO of
Black & Co., a media company whose tabloids made the National Enquirer
look like Pulitzer material. He technically belonged to Valhalla’s D.C.
chapter, but he visited New York often. Unfortunately.
“Sex on the Beach.” A grin snaked across his face. The army of insects
bred and multiplied. “My favorite.”
“Coming right up.” I ignored the obvious double entendre and went to
work making the drink. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could get away
from him.
Late thirties, slicked-back hair, flashy clothes. Victor was objectively
decent-looking, but something about him always gave me the creeps.
Maybe it was the way he looked at me like he was envisioning the dirtiest
things he could get away with doing to me, or maybe it was the relentless
come-ons despite my obvious disinterest.
Tessa sent me a sympathetic look from down the bar. She knew how
much I disliked him, but he always insisted on having me serve him when
he was here, so there was nothing she could do.
“What are your plans for this weekend?” Victor asked. “I’m in town until
Monday, and I know of a few interesting events coming up.”
I’m sure you do. I bet they involved little to no clothes and high hopes for
his overeager dick.
“I’m working,” I said, which was the truth. I got the best tips on the
weekends, so I always said yes to Fridays and Saturdays.
“I’m sure you could take a night or two off.”
My smile could’ve frozen the inside of a volcano as I handed him his
drink. “Unfortunately, I have bills to pay, so no, I can’t.” It was as rude as I
allowed myself to be toward a club member. Most of them were petty and
egotistical enough to get someone fired because of a “bad attitude,”
including Victor.
“There are other ways to pay your bills.” Victor deliberately brushed my
hand when he took the glass from me. A shiver of disgust ran down my
spine. “For example, I can be quite generous in certain situations.”
His meaning was clear.
Waves of nausea tossed in my stomach like a ship during a storm. I
would rather fucking die than ever let Victor Black put his hands on me.
“Thank you for the thought, but as I’m sure you know, fraternization
between members and employees is a flagrant violation of Valhalla’s rules.”
My frosty reply contrasted with the anger simmering in my veins. I wished
I could toss the nearest drink in his face or, better yet, slap him so hard it
knocked the slimy thoughts right out of his head, but like I said, I had bills
to pay and a job to keep. “Now, if that’s all, I have other customers who
require my attention.”
I only made it two steps when his hand latched around my wrist.
The nausea intensified, coupled with a surge of adrenaline that pounded
in my ears. It took every ounce of willpower not to deck him in the face
with my free hand.
“Rules don’t apply to me,” Victor said casually, as if he weren’t holding
me hostage in a room full of witnesses. Arrogance gleamed bright and cold
in his eyes. “I can—” “Let her go, Victor.” A familiar smooth, aristocratic voice sliced through
my tension like a freshly honed blade through silk. “It’s unbecoming to
manhandle someone, even for you.”
Victor’s face darkened, but he wasn’t stupid enough to cause a scene
with another member. He dropped my hand and turned.
Kai stood behind him, tie pin-straight, handkerchief crisply folded in his
jacket pocket, and eyes diamond-hard as they pinned the other man against
his seat.
Warmth rushed to the pit of my stomach, erasing some of my disgust at
Victor’s touch.
“It’s nice to see you taking advantage of our intraclub network,” Kai
said, his voice deceptively pleasant despite the quiet fury rolling off him in
waves. “But I would be remiss not to remind you of our no-harassment
policy. Violate it, and your network access will be terminated. Violate it
with the wrong person, and you’ll be permanently banned from Valhalla.” A
polite smile, colder than the northernmost reaches of the Arctic. “You know
what happens to excommunicated members, don’t you?”
Victor’s lips thinned. I didn’t know what happened to ex-communicated
members, but the threat was enough to quiet him despite the murderous
resentment brimming in his eyes.
“Perhaps you should take a breather elsewhere in the club.” Kai
smoothed a hand over his tie. “There’s a lovely jazz performance happening
in the music lounge.”
I didn’t relax until Victor disappeared through the exit, leaving a trail of
choked bitterness in his wake.
Kai took his vacated seat. A buzz sparked in the air, and my heart twisted
into a position that would’ve made my old yoga teacher proud.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Most people would take the rich, powerful person’s side even if they
were in the wrong. Others would simply turn a blind eye, especially for
something as “small” as a wrist grab. I was female, a minority, and an
employee. I held the least amount of power in situations like the one with
Victor, and while what Kai did was the bare minimum in some respects, the
sad truth was that a majority couldn’t even do that.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kai said, his tone mild. “I simply
reminded him of of the club rules, per my duty as a member of the managing
committee.”
A smile edged onto my lips. “Taxing work.”
“Positively grueling. But I try my best.”
“So grueling you missed your standing appointment here last Thursday?”
The words fell out of their own accord. I wished I could snatch them back
the instant they left my mouth, but it was too late.
The remnants of Kai’s stony expression melted, revealing a flicker of
warm pleasure that had my toes curling in my boots.
“Keeping tabs on me again, Isabella?”
The velvety way he said my name was almost indecent, conjuring images
of lazy afternoons and silken sheets. Of hands sliding up my thighs and
kisses trailing down my neck, his mouth doing wicked things to my body
while he thrust inside me. Over and over, until—
Fuck.
Heat ignited between my thighs. My fingers curled around the counter,
but I shrugged off his question and forced myself not to break his knowing
stare. “Only so I can avoid you. Anyone who translates classics into Latin
for fun terrifies me.”
A laugh crinkled the corners of his eyes, and my pulse jumped in
response. It was turning into a Pavlovian situation at this point. Anytime
Kai did something, my traitorous body reacted like it’d been struck by
lightning.
“I’m happy to report there’ll be no translations today, but if it makes you
feel better, I work on genre fiction too. I translated a Nora Roberts novel
once. It was a refreshing change of pace.”
“It doesn’t, but thank you for that detail. Come back to me when you’ve
translated dinosaur erotica.”
Kai blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.” I didn’t want to push him too far, too fast. The poor man
would probably have a heart attack if he discovered some of the books
floating outside his literary bubble. “You know, you never told me why you
came in on a Monday the other week.”
It’d been nagging at me since it happened. I had more important things to
worry about, but not knowing the reason bothered the hell out of me, like
trying and failing to remember the name of a song that sat on the tip of my
tongue.
Kai recovered admirably fast from my dinosaur erotica quip. “Does it
matter?