Page 13 of Wicked King

“Why not?” she whines. “Okay, you don’t have to sleep with him. Just go talk. He’s so freaking hot!”

As if the beautiful Italian mobster hears my friend, he stands and stalks toward us. The man moves with the grace of a panther, each step silent and deliberate, exuding an air of lethal confidence.

“O.M.G., he’s coming this way, Jia.”

I gulp down a long sip of my martini and heave in a breath. Nico Rossi is responsible for Qian’s death. Despite the angelic smile and devilish good looks, the man is a monster. You will remember that, Jia. My father’s voice swirls through my subconscious.

He presses closer, those enigmatic eyes pinned to mine, and my chest heaves at the effort of drawing in a breath. What is this sorcery? I don’t recall reacting this way on the brief occasions I’d met him a few months ago.

He weaves around a blonde, and the woman’s eyes light up as he passes, her lips curling into an inviting smile. She whirls around after him, but he waves her off, eyes never unlocking from mine. Endless moments pass as he looms ever closer, my heart a battering ram against my ribs.

When he finally reaches us, Ari lets out an embarrassing squeal, earning a smirk from the notorious Rossi. He pauses in front of me, preening like a peacock, as I stand immobile, strangling my martini. “Finally, I have the pleasure of officially meeting the lovely Jia Guo.” He reaches for my free hand and presses a kiss to the top. Soft lips caress my skin, igniting a wave of goosebumps up my arm.

Once he releases me, I find the wherewithal to process his words and actually summon some of my own. “Finally?” I blurt.

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you from my brother.”

“Your brother?” I realize I sound like an idiot, but I’m so damned confused.

He ticks his head over his shoulder at the table he’s just walked away from. Another dark-haired male sits beside a redhead, their foreheads pressed together as they whisper to each other.

“I’m Marco Rossi.” That deep tenor wraps around my body, more lethal than any hands could ever be.

“Marco?”

“Yes, I’m Nico’s twin brother.”

For shit’s sake, there’s two of them?

Ari snakes between us and throws her hand out. “Twin you say? I’m Arianna Davila. Is your brother single by chance?”

Marco, not Nico, throws his head back and a warm laugh rumbles his broad chest. “I’m afraid not.” He points to the table once again. “Unfortunately, my brother has already found his true love.”

That’s her, that’s the woman. She’s the reason Nico Rossi reneged on the original arrangement with my brother. It’s all true.

“Unfortunately?” I blurt, again, positive now that I sound like an idiot.

Marco’s eyes swivel to mine, a flicker of amusement playing in the shadows. “I’ve seen what love does to powerful men, Jia, it’s not a pretty sight.”

The burning embers deep in my core shrivel and then all but die with those dismal words. Thank God. I need a rush of reality. Despite that intriguing smile and the fact that he’s Marco and not Nico, he’s still a Rossi. Both he and his brother were responsible for Qian’s death.

I swallow down the rest of the martini in one gulp and narrow my eyes at the grinning murderer. “Anyway, we were just leaving.”

“We were?” Ari squeaks. “But why? We just got here.”

“Because my grandfather is waiting for me at home.”

“Your grandfather?” Marco’s mouth curves into an O before he schools it back into that practiced smile.

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. The return of my grandfather could signal something big in the underground world these men rule over.

“He just came for a visit,” I add. “To mourn my brother’s loss. You knew Qian, didn’t you, Marco?”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Not well, unfortunately,” he murmurs. “My brother handled most of the interactions between our organizations.” His gaze flickers to Arianna and his mouth slants into a hard line. Smart man. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispers a long moment later.

“Thanks.” I cross my arms over my chest and turn to Arianna. “Can we please go now?”

She holds up her full drink and takes a long slurp from the straw. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”

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