Page 80 of King of Greed

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Out of everything that’s happened, mybreakwith Melody Kettler is the least likely to keep me awake.” He finished his drink. “Trust me.”

My lighter clicked in time with my heartbeats. I’d taken it out when I sat down, but I hated seeing something so beautiful in a place so ugly.

Out of everything that’s happened.It’d been fifteen years. I couldn’t imagine the things Roman had seen and done. “How bad was juvie?”

“It could’ve been worse.” He didn’t look at me. “How much ass did you have to kiss on your way up the ladder?”

The tension split, and a rancorous laugh rustled my throat.

Maybe it was the shots. Maybe it was the give-no-shits air permeating the bar. Whatever it was, I answered truthfully about how I’d built Davenport Capital—the networking, the knocking on doors and, yes, the ass-kissing before I secured my first investors. He shared tidbits of his life over the years—the various jobs, the scrapes with the law, and the martial arts training, which he’d put to good use during our fight, the fucker.

We weren’t who we used to be, and our relationship would never return to the way it was. But it felt good to talk to someone who knew me before everything changed, and I became someone I didn’t recognize.

CHAPTER 35

Alessandra

THE ELEVATOR DOORS SLID OPEN ON MY FLOOR.

I stepped out, my feet aching from my earlier walk to Midtown then downtown for dinner and drinks. I could’ve taken the subway or a car, but walking cleared my head. If I didn’t have time for yoga, which I’d continued after Buzios, I went outside and wandered the streets until I felt better about whatever was on my mind. These days, there was only one person who featured regularly during my wanderings.

I rounded the corner. Someone sat slumped outside my apartment, his back against the wall and his legs outstretched. A rumpled jacket lay on the floor next to him.

“Dom?”

“Hey.” He smiled up at me, his eyes glassy. “You’re back.”

“What are you doing?” I resumed my steps and stopped in front of him. I’d moved out of Sloane’s apartment and into my own at the start of the year. Thank God for that or she would’ve raised hell about this.

“I missed you.” He didn’t get up. Pink glazed the high planesof his cheekbones, and he looked so sad and forlorn it wrenched at more than a few heartstrings.

“We saw each other just a few hours ago.”

“I know.”

My pulse slowed like it had been dropped in honey.Don’t fall for it, Ále.But I couldn’t help it.

I fell again, just a little bit.

“Come on.” I reached down and pulled him up. “Let’s get you inside before someone sees you and calls the cops.” The nosy old lady in 6B would have a conniption if she spotted a drunk stranger in “her” hallway.

Dominic stumbled into my apartment. My brows pulled together as I locked the door behind us. “Did you fall into a vat of whiskey?” Hereekedof alcohol. The scent oozed out of his pores, overpowering the fresh flowers I kept by the entryway.

“I had drinks with Roman.” He pushed a hand through his already-disheveled hair. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s nine o’clock,” I pointed out. “A little early for bed.” I steered him to the couch, afraid he would collapse if he didn’t sit soon. He swayed with each step.

I hadn’t seen Dominic this drunk since, well, ever. He was usually fastidious about monitoring his alcohol intake. He said he’d seen too many people slide into alcoholism and addiction growing up, and he hated the loss of control that came with imbibing too much.

He slumped against the cushions and looked up at me again. His throat worked with a swallow. “How was your date?”

There’d been no date. Instead, I’d attended a jewelry-making class (I liked the one I took in Buzios so much I’d signed up for a similar workshop in the city) before parking myself at a bar in Soho, where I ordered one apple martini, read three chapters of a thriller Isabella recommended, and people watched. It wasn’tthe most exciting night, but it was what I’d needed after leaving Dominic.

“It was fine.” Guilt pulled at me, fraying my thoughts. I hated lying, but I’d almost caved when he’d asked me to stay earlier that day. I never cuddled and I never slept over after we had sex, but being in that room and seeing the bed we’d shared, the engagement photo we’d taken…lying about a date was the only thing I could think of to remove myself in that moment.

“Good.” Dominic swallowed again. “I hope he didn’t take you out for tacos. You hate tacos.”

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