King of Wrath: Chapter 33

Dante and I barely exchanged a word during dinner. I did, however, push his fish into his vegetables when he wasn’t looking and delighted in his look of absolute horror when he saw his food had touched.

Besides that one petty act of retribution for his behavior, I focused my attention on Christian and his girlfriend Stella. Christian was perfectly charming, as always, but something about him made me uneasy. He reminded me of a wolf dressed in perfectly tailored sheep’s clothing.

Stella, on the other hand, was warm and friendly, if a bit shy. We spent the majority of dinner discussing travel, astrology, and her new ambassadorship with the fashion label Delamonte, which was, coincidentally, a Russo Group brand.

As far as last-minute dinner guests went, it could’ve been much worse.

After dessert, I took Stella on a tour of the penthouse while Dante and Christian discussed business. It was mostly an excuse to catch my breath after hours of underlying tension between me and Dante, but I genuinely enjoyed Stella’s company.

“Don’t ask,” I said when she tilted her head at one of the paintings in the gallery. The hideous piece stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the Picassos and Rembrandts. “I don’t know why Dante bought that. He usually has more discerning taste.”

“It must be worth a lot of money,” Stella said as we made our way back to the dining room.

“Apparently. Proof price isn’t always indicative of quality,” I said dryly.

Our footsteps echoed against the marble floors, but my steps slowed when I heard the familiar rumble of Dante’s voice trickling through his office door. I hadn’t realized they’d moved from the dining room.

“…can’t keep Magda forever,” he said. “You should be glad I didn’t throw it in the trash after the stunt you pulled with Vivian and Heath.”

My throat dried at the unexpected mention of my and Heath’s names.

What stunt? Save for an awkward phone call during which I’d checked on his nose (less bruised than his ego) and told him we shouldn’t be in contact anymore, I hadn’t talked to Heath since he showed up at the apartment.

I also couldn’t imagine why Christian would take an interest in either of us. How did he even know Heath? He was big in the cyber world, and Heath owned a tech startup, but that connection seemed tenuous at best.

“It’s a fucking painting, not a wild animal,” Christian said. “As for Vivian, it’s been months, and it worked out fine. Let it go. If you’re still pissed, you shouldn’t have invited me to dinner.”

“Be glad things worked out fine with Vivian.” Dante’s tone could’ve iced the inside of a volcano. I swallowed, trying to moisten the sudden desert in my throat. It didn’t work. “If—”

I couldn’t contain my cough any longer. The sound spilled out of me and cut his sentence short.

Two seconds later, the door swung open, revealing two surprised and none-too-pleased faces.

A faint hint of red colored Dante’s cheekbones when he saw me. “I see you’ve finished the tour early.”

“Sorry.” Stella spoke up, looking embarrassed. “We were on our way to the dining room and heard…” She trailed off, obviously not wanting to admit we’d been eavesdropping even though that was clearly what we were doing.

I should jump in and save her, but all I could do was give a forced smile as Christian and Stella thanked us for dinner and quickly excused themselves.

“What Heath stunt was he talking about?” I found my voice in the silence following their departure.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Dante’s clipped voice didn’t match the darkening red of his cheeks. “He was being an asshole, as always.”

“Considering he mentioned me and my ex-boyfriend by name, I think I do need to worry about it.” I crossed my arms. “I won’t stop asking, so you might as well tell me now.”

More silence.

“Christian was the one who sent the text to Heath,” he finally said. “The one that was supposedly from you.”

My stomach hollowed, and icy shock rushed to fill the void. “Why would he do that?”

“I told you. Because he’s an asshole.” A small pause, then a reluctant, “I may have provoked him, but he’s easily provoked.”

“That’s why you came home early,” I realized.

In all my years as CEO, I’ve only cut a work trip short twice, Vivian, and both those instances were because of you.

I’d glossed over the specifics of what he said at the time because I’d been too distracted by everything else happening, but his words suddenly made sense.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I regretted eating so much at dinner. I was starting to feel nauseous. “Even when I said I didn’t know how he got the text, you didn’t say anything.”

“It was irrelevant.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide!” I eased a deep breath into my lungs. “I don’t know what you did to Christian, but I don’t appreciate being used as a pawn in whatever game you two are playing.”

I felt like enough of a pawn with my parents. I didn’t want or need to feel that way with Dante, too.

“It’s not a game,” Dante gritted out. “Christian got pissed and did something stupid. What would me telling you have accomplished? You would’ve just gotten upset over something that already happened.”

“The fact you don’t know what the problem is, is the problem.” I turned, too tired to argue anymore. “Find me when you’re ready to talk like an adult.”

Relationships were a give-and-take, and right now, I was tired of giving.

The next morning, I woke up early to clear my head in Central Park. After forty-five minutes of aimless wandering, last night’s embers of indignation still flickered in my stomach, so I did what I always did when I needed to vent: I called my sister.

She grew up with our parents, too, and she’d gone through the whole arranged marriage process. If anyone understood me, she did.

“Have you ever wanted to murder Gunnar?” The number of times I’d considered murder since I got engaged to Dante was alarming. Maybe it was a quirk of being married or almost married.

Agnes laughed. “On multiple occasions, usually when he refuses to pick up his socks or ask for directions when we’re already late. But I don’t have the stomach for blood, so he’s safe. For now.”

I huffed out a laugh. “If only my problems were as simple as socks on the ground.”

“Uh oh. Did you and Dante get in a fight?”

“Yes and no.” I briefly summarized what happened, starting with his weird attitude shift after Paris and ending with the revelation about the text last night.

I hadn’t realized how long we’d gone without talking until now. Agnes and I used to call each other every week, but it was harder now with our schedules and her living in Europe.

“Wow,” Agnes said after I finished. “You’ve had an…interesting few weeks.”

“Tell me about it.” I ran the toe of my leather Chloé flat along a crack in the ground. My mother would yell at me about scuffing my shoe, but she wasn’t here, so I didn’t care what she would say.

“I feel like we’re regressing,” I said. “We were doing so well. He was opening up, communicating…and now we’re back to square one. He’s silent and withdrawn, and I’m frustrated. I can’t do this for the rest of my life, Aggie. I’ll…oh my God. We’ll be the couple in the Netflix documentary,” I realized, horrified. “Love and Murder: The Couple Next Door.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Okay, here’s what I think. You’re not back to square one,” she said.

“Remember when you first got engaged? You couldn’t stand each other.

You’ve come a long way since then, even if you’ve taken a few steps back recently.”

I sighed. “I hate how you’re always right.”

“That’s why I’m the older sister,” she quipped. “Look, Gunnar and I weren’t huge fans of each other when we met, either. There was a point during the engagement when I came this close to calling the whole thing off.”

My foot stopped fidgeting. “Really? But you two are so in love.”

“We are now, but it wasn’t a love that hit us at first sight. Or second, or third. We had to work for it,” Agnes said. “Two days before we visited Mom and Dad for Lunar New Year—remember when Mom freaked out about the sticky rice balls not being sticky enough?—we got lost during a hike and had a huge fight. I was ready to throw my ring over the side of the mountain and push Gunnar after it. But we survived, as did our relationship.”

A dog barked in the background, and Agnes waited for it to quiet before continuing, “No one’s perfect. Sometimes, our partners will do things that drive us mad. I know I have habits Gunnar can’t stand. But the difference between the couples who make it and those who don’t is one, understanding what your dealbreakers are, and two, being willing to stick it out through the issues that aren’t dealbreakers.”

“You should be a relationship counselor,” I said. “Your talent is wasted on jewelry marketing.”

She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Just don’t tell Dad, or he’ll make you take the Chief Marketing Officer role.”

I wrinkled my nose at the prospect.

“Would you have really called off the wedding?” Agnes had always been the “better” daughter out of the two of us. More accommodating, less sarcastic. I couldn’t resist a subtle dig now and then, but she was unfailingly genteel at home. “Mom and Dad would’ve…”

“Probably disowned me,” she finished. “I know. But as much as I wanted to make them happy, I couldn’t have tied myself to someone I didn’t like for the rest of my life. That’s one thing I’ve realized now that I’m older, Vivi. You can’t live your life trying to please others. You can be courteous and respectful, and you can compromise, but when it comes down to it? It’s your life. Don’t waste it.”

Emotion tangled in my throat.

I wasn’t sad or upset, but Agnes’s words hit me somewhere that made tears prickle the backs of my eyes.

“But it all worked out for you,” I said.

My sister and her husband Gunnar were the epitome of rustic wedded bliss. When he wasn’t in Athenberg for parliamentary proceedings, they spent their time shopping at the local farmer’s market and cooking together.

Their countryside manor in Eldorra looked like something out of a fairytale, complete with two horses, three dogs and, randomly, one sheep.

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.

“Yes. I’m very lucky.” Agnes’s voice softened. “Like I said, it took time and effort, but we figured it out. I think you and Dante can, too. I may not be entrenched in East Coast society circles anymore, but I’m well aware of his reputation. He wouldn’t have opened up the way he had if he didn’t have deep feelings for you. The question is, do you have the same feelings toward him?”

I stared across the lake at the buildings gleaming in the distance. I stood at the far end of the Gapstow Bridge, one of my favorite places in Central Park. The crowds were starting to trickle in, but it was early enough I could still hear the birds chirping in the background.

Dante was out there. Eating, showering, and doing normal everyday things that shouldn’t have the impact they had on me. But as mad as I was at him, and as withdrawn as he’d been, just knowing he existed made me feel a little less alone.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I do.”

“I figured as much.” I heard the smile in Agnes’s voice. “Do you still need to vent, or do you feel better?”

“I’m okay for now. Thanks for keeping me out of jail,” I said with a laugh.

“What are older sisters for?” I heard the dog bark again, followed by the low murmur of Gunnar’s voice. “I have to go. We’re flying to Athenberg tonight for Queen Bridget’s Spring Ball, and I haven’t finished packing. But call me if you need me, okay? And when you get a chance, check on Dad.”

Alarm bells clanged in my head. “Why, what’s wrong? Is he sick?”

He’d sounded fine when we talked two weeks ago, before I left for Paris.

“No, nothing like that,” Agnes assured me. “He just sounded off when I called him a few days ago. I’m probably overthinking it, but I live so far away…it would make me feel better if you checked in on him.”

“I will. Enjoy the ball.”

I stayed in the park for another hour after I hung up. In some ways, my talk with my sister provided much-needed clarity regarding my relationship with Dante. Venting did make me feel better, and as aggravating as Dante’s attitude had been, it wasn’t a dealbreaker. Yet.

But what were my actual dealbreakers? Cheating and violence were non-negotiable. But what about lying? Different values? Lack of trust and communication? Where did I draw the line between what I could compromise on, like a little white lie about something small, and what I couldn’t?

I wished there was a definitive guidebook out there for this type of thing. I would pay good money for it.

I would’ve stayed in the park longer, but the previously blue skies suddenly darkened. The wind picked up, and storm clouds gathered overhead, threatening rain.

I quickly joined the other people streaming toward the exit, but I only made it a quarter of the way before rain gushed down, heavy and sudden, like the heavens were dumping buckets of water over the side of a balcony.

Jagged lightning slashed across the sky, accompanied by deafening crashes of thunder.

A curse escaped when I stepped into a puddle and almost slipped. Water plastered my clothes to my skin, and I tried not to think about how transparent my white shirt must be right now.

It’d been such a beautiful day minutes ago, but that was the unpredictability of a New York spring.

One second, it was blue skies and sunshine. The next, it was storming like the world was ending.