King of Envy: Chapter 37

Iawoke to an empty bed.

The sheets were rumpled from last night’s activities, but Vuk’s side of the mattress was cold. He must’ve slipped out after I’d fallen asleep.

It was a smart move. My parents were early risers, and they were right down the hall. I wouldn’t want them to see him coming out of my childhood bedroom, reeking of sex.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched. The delicious soreness between my legs eased my irrational sting of disappointment at finding Vuk gone.

Last night had been incredible. There was no other word to describe it. The whole day had been incredible—minus our run-in with the jerks at dinner—but seeing Vuk fully lower his guard and lose control wasn’t something I’d ever forget.

My toes curled at the memory of his cock filling my throat and his guttural cry when he came. Our bodies had fit so perfectly, so naturally, that I couldn’t imagine doing the things we did with anyone else.

He’d ruined me for other men.

I am so fucked. Literally and figuratively. Even so, my cheeks ached with a smile.

It was Sunday, so my parents were home. The restaurant didn’t open until noon today, and I could hear the sizzle of turkey bacon and smell the coffee from downstairs.

I threw on cashmere sweats and was about to join them in the kitchen when a folded white square by the door caught my eye. My name was scrawled across the top in Vuk’s familiar handwriting.

I picked up the note and opened it.

There’s a work emergency in New York. I had to leave immediately, but I didn’t want to wake you. My team will drive you back on Monday. Until then, enjoy your time with your family. I’ll see you back in the city. P.S. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

I stared at the bold, blocky letters, my emotions swinging from pleasure to dismay and back again.

It was the weekend. What kind of emergency required the CEO to race back immediately? Then again, Markovic Holdings was a multibillion-dollar company with thousands of employees. A number of things could go wrong at any time. I didn’t think Vuk was lying; logically, it made sense.

Emotionally, however, I experienced another pang of disappointment. Insecurity scuttled through my veins. We’d slept together for the first time only for him to leave in the middle of the night. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

Yeah, that didn’t feel great. At all.

But…he’d left a note. A lengthy one, by his standards. Its contents might sound stiff to someone who didn’t know him, but if he wasn’t sincere, he would’ve disappeared with three words maximum—or, most likely, no note at all.

I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

A fresh wave of warmth washed away my insecurities. I trusted Vuk. He wasn’t the type to play games. If he said he had an emergency, he had an emergency.

I tucked the note into my handbag. After I washed up and made myself presentable, I wandered downstairs. My father was reading the Sunday paper while my mother puttered around the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I said. “How was the Kennedy Center?”

“Oh, it was wonderful. We should really go there more often.” My mother’s eyes twinkled. “How was your day with Vuk?”

“Good.” I fought a blush and avoided her eyes. I swear she could read my mind sometimes.

“Here. Sit.” She gestured at the table. “We saved some breakfast for you. You don’t want it to get cold.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. I was famished.

I sat across from my father and dug into a plate of eggs, hold the bacon. Despite the fashion industry’s exacting and oftentimes toxic weight standards, I refused to starve myself. I worked out five times a week and usually ate a healthy, well-balanced diet, but after yesterday’s binge with Vuk, I had to be careful about not overdoing my indulgences.

I asked my parents more questions about the Kennedy Center before my father set his paper aside.

He regarded me with an assessing look. “So,” he said. “Vuk’s gone.”

“He had to go back to New York. Work emergency.” I took a sip of my mother’s signature shai blend (not to be mistaken with chai). It was like comfort in a mug. “I missed this.” I sighed. “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled. “I’ll pack a few extra bags for you to bring home.”

“Yes, I know,” my father said, bringing the conversation back to Vuk’s absence. “He left us a note.”

My heart skipped with pleasant surprise. Of course he had. He was so damn thoughtful when he wanted to be.

“A very nice one,” my mother interjected.

“Yes, yes.” My father waved his hand in the air. “He’s an interesting man. He seems very…dedicated to you, Ayana.”

I shifted beneath his shrewd gaze. “Well, he’s a good person.”

“I’m sure he is. If it weren’t for him, who knows what might’ve happened at the church?”

“Abel, please. She just woke up.” My mother cut him off with a warning stare. “Let’s save the interrogation for later.”

“Or never,” I added. “We could save the interrogation for never.”

“I’m not interrogating her. I’ve asked one rhetorical question,” my father grumbled, but his face softened. “I just want what’s best for you, Ayaniye. I’m not saying Vuk is a bad person or has malicious intentions. I like him, but he’s not the only man in the picture.” He cast a pointed glance at my left hand—my bare left hand. My breath hitched. Shit. I’d forgotten to put my ring back on before I came downstairs. “He saved your life. Strong…feelings are normal. But feelings are malleable; integrity isn’t. We do not entangle ourselves in new ties before the old ones are broken.”

The eggs churned in my stomach. I pushed my plate aside, my throat too thick to swallow any more food.

Last night with Vuk had seemed natural. Inevitable. It hadn’t been a lurid one-night stand we jumped into because we couldn’t control our hormones; it’d been the culmination of months of increasing intimacy, both physical and emotional.

But in the light of day, with my father’s words echoing in my ears and my ring sitting upstairs, all I felt was shame.

“That’s enough.” My mother shushed him and switched to Amharic. “Listen to you. Our daughter is finally home after a terrible tragedy, and you ambush her at breakfast. What kind of example are you setting?”

“It’s not an ambush, Saba. It’s a gentle reminder.”

“We have different definitions of ‘gentle.’”

While my parents argued, I downed the rest of my tea, hoping it would soothe my nausea.

It didn’t.

My father meant well. He wasn’t aware of my situation with Jordan, and he (hopefully) had no idea about the recent, er, carnal shift in my relationship with Vuk. My mother was my comfort; my father was my guiding star. He was the one I counted on to steer me in the right direction when I was lost, and he was right.

If I wanted to pursue things with Vuk, I needed to officially end things with Jordan first. But how could I do that when⁠—

My phone rang.

In hindsight, the timing was so fortuitous it couldn’t have been anything other than a sign from the universe—a giant, blinking neon sign with all the bells and whistles.

But in that moment, the shock of the call was so great I couldn’t do anything except sit and listen.

After I received the short update, I hung up.

My parents had stopped bickering and were staring at me with varying shades of curiosity and concern.

“Who was it? What happened?” my mother asked.

“It’s Jordan.” My pulse raced. “He’s awake.”

Everything happened quickly after that.

I insisted on returning to New York immediately to visit Jordan, and I rebuffed my parents’ attempts to join me. I appreciated the sentiment, but I didn’t know what condition he was in. Too many people could be overwhelming. Plus, my parents were getting older; long drives were hard on their bodies.

After a whirlwind packing session and promises to update them as soon as I could, I met Vuk’s security team outside. Jake and Peter were the ones who’d escorted my parents home after the church attack.

Vuk had left their numbers on the back of my note. When I called and explained the situation, they’d agreed to drive me to the hospital as long as Sean cleared it.

The security chief must’ve said yes, because less than an hour after I received the call from Jordan’s mother, we were speeding back to Manhattan in an armored black Suburban. Shadow was curled up next to me in the backseat, sleeping.

My thoughts were a mess the entire time. Relief camped out next to anxiety, turning my emotions into a battlefield.

I was thrilled Jordan was awake, but last night remained fresh on my mind. Could people see it? When I walked into the hospital, would his family spot the stain of unfaithfulness marring my skin? How could I tell him I wanted to break our arrangement when he’d just escaped the jaws of death? If I did tell him, should I do it immediately or wait?

And Vuk—did he know his friend was conscious? Was he already at Jordan’s side, waiting for me to arrive, or was his emergency so dire he was completely off the grid?

A geyser of hypothetical questions spewed forth and clogged my mind. I wanted to text Vuk, but my overloaded brain couldn’t handle any more information.

A dull ache formed at the base of my skull. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take several deep breaths.

One. Two. Three.

By the time we entered New York City limits, I’d successfully calmed my thrashing heart. There was no point working myself into a frenzy over hypotheticals. What mattered most right now was Jordan. Everything else could wait.

We arrived at the hospital. Peter accompanied me to Jordan’s room while Jake parked the car. He stopped a respectful distance away while I greeted Jordan’s father. He stood in the hall, his shirt wrinkled and his hair mussed. Exhaustion lined his face.

“How’s he doing?” I asked quietly. I’d only met Richard Ford a few times in group settings. He divorced Jordan’s mother years ago, and he spent most of his time golfing in Scotland or sailing around the Caribbean.

“As well as can be expected,” Richard said. “Margot’s with him right now.” Margot was Jordan’s mother.

“What about Orla?” I was surprised his grandmother wasn’t here too. She’d basically raised Jordan while his mother was busy with her string of lovers and his father was off traveling the world.

“She was here when he woke up, but she can’t exert herself too much for too long.” Richard pushed his hands into his pockets. “She fell on Friday. We moved her into a suite down the hall.”

My guilt compounded. I wasn’t close with Jordan’s family, but he cared about them, and I cared about him. Rationally, I couldn’t have known about his grandmother’s fall unless the Fords told me, which they hadn’t. Still, I couldn’t help agonizing over the fact I’d been playing Pictionary on Friday while Orla was in the hospital.

The door opened, and Margot stepped out.

We exchanged a cool greeting before I walked around her and entered Jordan’s room.

His mother was the Ford who liked me the least. I wasn’t sure why, but the feeling was mutual. She was about as warm and fuzzy as a frozen porcupine.

Despite their dysfunction, the Fords had splurged on the best recovery suite for their son. With its state-of-the-art TV and chic decor, it looked more like a hotel than a hospital room, but I ignored the fancy trappings and focused on the man smiling at me. It was a weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“Hey, MOTY,” Jordan said.

“I’ve told you that is not a cute nickname.” I approached his bedside, my heart clenching at how pale and thin he looked. But he was alive, conscious, and coherent. That was what mattered. “If you think it is, I’m calling the doctor to check your brain.”

His laugh rattled in his lungs. He coughed before saying, “My mother told me you were in D.C. You didn’t have to rush back up the same day. I’m alive, not dying.”

“Of course I did.” I squeezed his hand. “What did you think I was going to do instead? Laze around my parents’ house while you watched daytime TV in the hospital by yourself?”

“I hate daytime TV.”

“Exactly.”

Jordan laughed again, but the sound soon faded beneath his sober expression. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” Better than I should’ve been considering you were in here. I swallowed past a knot in my throat. “I should ask you that question. When I saw you at the church after—after what happened, I thought…”

“I know. Me too,” he said quietly. He released my hand and swiped his over his face. “What a wild fucking day. I heard it was some sort of gang turf war gone wrong?”

“Something like that.”

Jordan had to know about the Brotherhood if he’d lent Vuk the money to pay them off, but I wasn’t sure how much he knew. It wasn’t my secret, so I didn’t feel comfortable correcting him. The truth was up to Vuk to disclose or hide.

“Of all the weddings in all the world, it had to be ours,” he said humorlessly. “If that isn’t a sign from the universe, I don’t know what is.”

Indeed. I wasn’t a very superstitious person, but it was hard not to take your fiancé of convenience nearly dying at the altar personally.

My engagement ring winked beneath the fluorescent lights. I’d remembered to put it on again before I left, and the weight of it felt like a dozen boulders strapped to my finger.

I shouldn’t force Jordan into a hard conversation after he just woke up, but it wasn’t fair to drag things out when I’d already made up my mind. I’d shoved my pre-wedding feelings aside for the sake of practicality, and look where that got us.

If I’d listened to my heart and called off the ceremony instead of trying to push through it, we wouldn’t have been at the church, and Jordan wouldn’t have gotten shot.

Concrete sludge poured into my stomach. I forced my mind off my escalating nerves and onto the task at hand. “Actually, since we’re on the subject, I have something to tell you.”

“Wait. Let me go first. Please.” Jordan took a deep breath. “I’d hoped to have this conversation later, when I was out of the hospital and we’d had more time to…process, but we’ve always been honest with each other, right?”

The sludge solidified into granite. “Right.” I managed a feeble smile. I am so going to hell.

“So.” He coughed again. “We made our pact almost two years ago. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. We’d both get what we wanted. Marriage didn’t seem so bad when we were already friends, and people would finally stop asking me when I’d settle down. I thought it would be like having a roommate, you know? Totally doable. But the closer we got to the wedding, the more I got…I don’t know. Not cold feet. But doubts. Small ones. Easy to brush off. Who cared if I had to pretend to be in love for five years? People in our circle do that all the time. Who cared if my family didn’t really know me? They’re not around much anyway. Then something happened before the ceremony that almost made me rethink things, but I didn’t. Because of pride, ego, saving face. Whatever.” This time, his laugh was laced with bitterness. “I got shot an hour later. Like I said, the universe isn’t subtle. I should’ve listened to my gut in the first place.”

His words whirled through my brain. It sounded like…but no, he couldn’t…but what if…

“What are you saying?” I held a bracing breath against his reply.

Jordan swallowed. “I’m saying, I want to call off our arrangement.”

The breath expelled in one huge rush, leaving me lightheaded.

“I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch like this.” His eyes pled with mine. “I’ll still pay you for your time. We never got married, but you spent the past eighteen months pretending to be my fiancée. That’s worth something. It won’t be five million—I don’t have that much liquidity to spare—but it’ll be at least one mil. I hope that’s⁠—”

“Jordan.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-ramble. My heart pounded so hard I half expected it to burst out of my chest and perform a happy jig right there in the middle of the hospital. “Stop. I’m not mad at you, and you don’t owe me anything. In fact, I…well, I was going to tell you that I wanted to end the arrangement too.”

His mouth parted. “Seriously?”

I nodded.

“Fuck.” He dropped back against his pillow. “I should’ve let you go first and saved myself that speech. I…” Another cough interrupted him mid-sentence. “I need some water after all that.”

A giggle climbed up my throat. I tried to tamp it down, but once it was on the move, there was no stopping it. It spilled out in a burst of laughter, and after a shocked beat, Jordan started laughing too.

I doubled over, tears of mirth blurring my vision. Jordan’s shoulders shook so hard his bed squeaked. The room reverberated with the sounds of our relief as the dark cloud over my head finally evaporated.

Other problems like Beaumont and the Brotherhood lurked at the fringes, but I allowed myself to enjoy this moment for now.

When our laughter finally faded, I brought Jordan a bottle of water from the room’s mini fridge and tried to sort through our next steps. I wasn’t too worried about announcing our “split.” The wedding attack gave us a springboard for breaking up, and Sloane and the Fords’ PR team could iron out the finer details.

I was more worried about the tangible consequences for Jordan. “What’ll happen to your inheritance?” I asked.

Uncertainty swallowed the remainder of his humor. “I don’t know, but I almost died, Ayana. That really makes a man reevaluate his priorities. When the bullet hit me—before I lost consciousness—I wasn’t thinking about money. I was thinking about the life I’d lived and the regrets I had. I would’ve died without telling my family the truth. That was my biggest regret of all.” Jordan’s mouth thinned. “My grandmother’s not doing well. I mean, she hasn’t been for a while, but hopefully our breakup doesn’t send her to an even earlier grave.”

I reached down and squeezed his hand again. I wished I could do more to help, but this was Jordan’s fight. He had to face it on his own.

“She values honesty, so there’s that. But I don’t know how she’ll react to the…revelation about me or our previous arrangement.” He blew out a sigh. “I guess the worst that can happen is she disinherits me, which isn’t as bad as dying. Losing the company would hurt more than the money, but at least I wouldn’t have to hide who I really am anymore.”

“Don’t count her out yet. Your grandmother is a reasonable person. She might surprise you,” I said. Orla Ford was a lot of things, but close-minded wasn’t one of them.

“Maybe.” Jordan fixed me with a shrewd stare. “What about you? What’s your reason for wanting to end the arrangement?”

“Um, well…” He wouldn’t care that Vuk and I got together, but it seemed tacky to tell him we’d been fooling around while he’d been lying here unconscious.

“It’s Vuk, isn’t it?”

For someone who’d woken up from a week-long coma just hours ago, he was surprisingly observant.

I supposed he already knew Vuk had feelings for me since Vuk had asked him to call off the wedding, but he didn’t know if those feelings were reciprocated—until now.

“Yes,” I admitted. “He told me about your argument before the ceremony, and he was in D.C. with me. He left this morning for a work emergency, but we…I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Jordan said. “You don’t have to tell me. I know. I see it written all over your face.”

“I’m sorry,” I said miserably. “Even if you and I weren’t truly dating, it was wrong of us to carry on behind your back. It happened once before the ceremony. In the beginning of October. And also…this weekend. Before we officially ended our arrangement.” Flags of shame scorched my cheekbones.

“I don’t need to know the details, but we did say affairs were allowed in our marriage as long as they were discreet,” Jordan conceded, his tone dry. “What happened between you two was just an iteration of that. I admit, it would’ve been a little weird for you to get with a close friend—it makes things messier—but I’m not angry at either of you for what you did. I’m more upset that you didn’t tell me earlier.” He shook his head. “Then again, I kept my doubts to myself too, so I guess we both had our secrets.”

“I guess we did.” I smiled sadly. We’d wasted so much time when we should’ve been honest from the start, but some things were only clear in hindsight. “Hopefully, that’s all behind us now.”

“Hopefully.” Jordan’s energy was flagging. His eyes drooped, and his breaths turned shallow. This was a lot to put him through so soon after regaining consciousness, but he waved me off when I tried to get him to lie down again. “About Vuk. He’s not perfect, but when he cares about someone—truly cares about them—he’ll go to the ends of the earth for them. Remember that the next time he pisses you off because that’s sure to happen.”

Fresh laughter bubbled in my throat. “Oh, I know. Trust me.” I glanced at my phone. No new texts or calls yet. “Does he know you’re awake?”

“Who knows? My mother said she called him, but it went straight to voicemail. That bastard.” Jordan sighed. “I return from the dead and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to greet me with a ‘welcome back’ balloon.”

“If it makes you feel better, he’s more the type to bring a handle of vodka.”

“True.” Jordan’s eyes fluttered like he was struggling to keep them open.

It was time for me to leave.

“Get some rest. We’ll talk later.” I slid the diamond off my finger and pressed it gently into his palm. His hand curled around it as I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “It was a pleasure being your fiancée, Jordan Ford.”

His smile held all the nostalgia of our long friendship. “Back at you, Ayana Kidane.”

His parents were already gone when I exited his room.

I took the elevator to the lobby and walked out into the sunshine, feeling lighter than I had in years.