Page 14 of Wicked King

“Don’t rush, Arianna,” says Marco, before his eyes chase to mine. “I can take her.”

“That’s not happening. I’d rather grab a cab.”

“But why? I have a car parked right out front.” He signals down the fifty-odd stories below to Park Avenue.

I stand on my tiptoes and lean in close, so my lips nearly brush the shell of his ear. “Because I’d rather walk the sixty blocks in stilettos than sit in a car with the man responsible for my brother’s death.”

His eyes widen to the size of mismatched brilliant full moons. “I wasn’t—it wasn’t me…”

“I don’t care about the specifics,” I hiss. “You were there. You were involved.”

“Jia…”

I spin away before his fingers can wrap around my upper arm.

“Wait for me!” Arianna shouts, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop, not with the tears welling in my eyes.

I just need to get out of here.

CHAPTER 7

A WHITE KNIGHT

Marco

“Fuck,” I snarl as my traitorous eyes follow the tempting Jia through the crowd.

“Nice to meet you,” Arianna calls out over her shoulder as she scampers behind her friend. “And sorry about that!”

The girl has no reason to apologize. If she wasn’t in such a hurry to get away from me, I would’ve told her exactly that. Jia obviously hasn’t let her friend in on the other life we lead. And shit, if the virgin thing wasn’t hard enough to get around, there’s no way she’ll ever sleep with me if she holds me responsible for Qian’s death.

And it’s total bullshit. I wasn’t even the one to pull the trigger.

Trigger. The word bounces around in my skull as my thoughts start to travel to a dark place. I squeeze my eyes closed, banishing the painful memories. I never thought about her. I couldn’t allow myself to if I hoped to function…

I stomp back to the table where Nico and Maisy are kissing and giggling like fucking schoolgirls. So much for my wingman.

“Excuse me,” I grind out.

Nico finally tears his lips off his girlfriend’s and offers me a snide smile. “Well, that was a fortuitous encounter.”

“Only it wasn’t lucky for me at all because it only served to confirm Jia’s absolute hatred.” I slump down on the lounge chair and hiss out a breath. I’m never going to win this bet. “She thinks it’s my fault that Qian’s dead.”

Nico’s lips thin. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“This is all your fault,” I snarl. “And thanks for the backup. Great wingman you turned out to be.”

“You seemed so confident in your abilities that I didn’t think you’d need wingman services.”

“Oh, stop, both of you.” Maisy slides to the end of the chair and straightens her blouse, then places her hand on my twin’s knee. “It’s not Nico’s fault, Marco. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. What happened to Jia’s brother at the warehouse that day was because of me.”

Nico’s arm encircles Maisy, and he gently tucks her into his side. The move is nauseatingly sweet, as is everything with these two. “Qian caused this. There’s no one to blame but that bastardo. Not a soul threatens my little fox and lives.” He presses a kiss to Maisy’s forehead and I barely restrain a groan. “Don’t worry, brother, not all hope is lost. You still have three more days until the Triad council meeting to convince Jia to sleep with you.” He throws me a smirk, and my fingers curl into fists to keep from choking the coglione. I’m so fucked.

Two days left before I lose this damned bet. I spent all day yesterday following Jia around like a stupid, lovesick puppy, trying to find an in, some way to coax her into my bed before I’m stuck with her for life. After twelve hours of surveillance, all I’d discovered was that she spent all day in her studio poring over her design table. I still have no idea what she’s drawing or why. The only plus is that I learned her caffeinated beverage of choice is a skinny latte with one pump of sugar-free vanilla. That’s certainly not a sure-fire way into her pants. Fucking fantastic.

An entire day of trailing her and I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the notorious founder of the Four Seas. If Wei Guo is still in town, he’s hiding out in Jia’s apartment or some other Triad safehouse. With the council meeting in only two days, surely he’d remain in the city to attend. The question is what exactly are they convening to discuss?

I finally reach my destination in the Meatpacking District and slow my pace as I peer at the red-brick boutique across the street. The big windows reveal an empty shop except for the petite woman in the corner. The raven-haired beauty brings a white flower of some sort to her nose, and a smile drifts across her delicate lips. Then, she takes a sip of her skinny latte and sketches something on an easel. Maybe Nico and her would have made a decent pair after all, with their creative minds and apparent love of art. Something about that thought makes my chest tighten in a weird, terribly uncomfortable way.

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