Page 7 of Vicious Kingdom

It hurt not telling people I wrote some of the bestselling books on the market. While I didn’t need their approval and praise, it sucked keeping such an accomplishment to myself.

Summoning the half-truths and excuses to keep my secrets, I smiled. This social obligation wasn’t going anywhere, so I might as well get it over with. And since the object of my every thought was fuming down by the lake, I sat.

While my mouth answered their questions and related the highlights of the past five years in as little detail as possible, my brain schemed.

After trying to eradicate the businessman from my mind, body, and soul failed, I had to come to terms that we were destined to be together. As forbidden as a match with him would be if I suggested it outright, there were ways to lay kernels and pebbles. Until now, I hoped the path to success was clear.

Leo ruined me for all other men.

And now, I would rather have him even if he hated me for eternity than let him go. I frequently told myself it was pathetic. But I chose to twist the negative into a positive and call the determination romance.

One of the bigger obstacles—besides the fact that Leo was angry—was that he didn’t know that I knew that he was part of the criminal underworld. He thought his secret was safe. I still hadn’t devised a way to tell him I discovered it. I was saving that revelation for a future self to deal with. His sister assured me when we reconnected the other day on the pleasure cruise that Leo didn’t know she and I were best friends.

And thank the lord, we were still friends! After all this time, after very few interactions, we picked up where we left off with our friendship.

“Their divorce will be finalized in a month,” Leah confided, talking about the couple the women were currently gossiping about. The woman was spinning her own wedding ring, but the look in her eye was that of pure hunger.

My mother shot me a pointed look.

I swallowed a groan.

“It’s a pity Paul couldn’t be here tonight,” Mom sighed dramatically.

Leah shook her head. “His brother-in-law is here. It would have been ugly.”

Mom pouted. “Paul hasn’t been to any gatherings this spring.”

Geesh!It was likeshewanted to marry the trust fund brat-turned-politician.

It would have been a far less tragic event than pushing him on her daughter. I hadn’t been in the States five minutes before she was unloading all the juicy details about Paul Preston III’s high-profile divorce on me. She’d even bluntly suggested I snatch himnowbefore the papers were signed, so that I had him when he was a free man.

Little did she know that I was technically engaged. It was all too easy to forget I had a fiancé. There were no good morning messages or sleep well texts. We’d chatted on the phone once, but it was simply to discuss his plans for coming to Chicago.

It would be so much simpler to cut David loose.

He was hardly a footnote at this point. But I kept the option available should I need to throw it at my mother to dodge a setup with someone of her choosing.

“Your brother-in-law is still single, right?” Maureen wondered, even though she knew damn well my uncle had been a widower for the last fifteen years.

“Funny how no one has snapped him up,” Mom sighed. “He’s so popular. So well liked.”

“His son is too,” Kennedy said dreamily, wandering into the sitting area and plopping down beside me. “Too bad you’re cousins, or you could chase him!”

I gagged in my mouth.

“You know, I’m getting a headache,” I lamented. “I think I’m going to call it an early night.”

Around me, sympathetic coos and condolences sang out in a chaotic symphony. I wasn’t sure which was worse, those fake noises or the deathly glare from my mother.

I made my escape. But as I waited near the valet stand in front of the main lodge, a matte black sports car screamed out of the parking lot. I knew instantly who owned it. Like any good author, I did my research on my character’s profile. Watching his fading taillights, I rubbed my arms, bracing against the sudden rush of chilly wind. That man wasn’t escaping this time. Nothing he could say or do would stop the story unfolding, especially since I was the one writing it.

***

“We on for drinks later this week?” Penelope asked.

I adjusted the phone as I exited the car. “Yeah! Definitely.”

“Alessio won’t let me go anywhere too popular,” the mafia queen pouted.