I stood and summoned a smile that felt only mildly forced.

“Now is perfect.”

That night, Dante and I ate our first meal together as a couple.

I meant that in the loosest sense of the word.

I wore his ring, and we lived under the same roof, but the chasm between us made the Grand Canyon look like an ordinary hole in the ground.

I made a valiant attempt to close it. “I love your art collection,” I said. “The paintings are beautiful.”Except for the one that looks like cat vomit.The piece, titledMagda, was so out of place in his gallery I did a double take when I saw it. “Do you have a favorite piece?”

It wasn’t the most inspired topic, but I was grasping at straws. So far, I’d pulled six words out of Dante, three of which had beenpass the salt.He was basically two devolutions away from being a nicely dressed mime.

“I don’t play favorites.” He cut into his steak.

My teeth clenched, but I swallowed my irritation.

Since our less-than-stellar interaction during my move-in, I’d moved past the shock and anger stages of our engagement into resignation.

I was stuck with Dante, whether I liked it or not. I had to make the most of it. If we didn’t…

Images of cold days, lonely nights, and fake smiles filled my head.

My stomach tightened with unease before I took a sip of water and tried again. “What are your expectations in private?”

His knife and fork paused over his plate. “Excuse me?”

A noticeable reaction.Progress.

“Earlier, you said we’ll play the part of a loving couple in public and warned me to, quote-unquote,get rid of any romantic notions I may have of us falling in love. But we never discussed what our private lives would look like beyond separate bedrooms,” I said. “Do we eat dinner together every night? Discuss our work problems? Go grocery shopping and argue over which brand of wine to buy?”

“No, no, and no,” he said flatly. “I don’t grocery shop.”

Of course you don’t.

“We’ll live our lives separately. I’m not your friend, therapist, or confidante, Vivian. Tonight’s dinner is simply because it’s your first night, and I happen to be home.” His knife and fork moved again. “Speaking of which, I have a business trip in Europe coming up. I leave in two days. I’ll be gone for a month.”

He might as well have slapped me in the face.

I stared at him and waited for him to tell me it was a joke. When he didn’t, a surge of indignation washed away my attempts to play nice.

“A month? What type of business trip requires you to be gone for amonth?”

“The type that makes me money.”

The indignation fanned into anger. He wasn’t eventrying. Maybe the business trip was legitimate, but I move in, and he leaves for a month? The timing was too convenient to ignore.

“You have plenty of money already,” I snapped, too annoyed to mince words. “But you clearlydon’thave an interest in even being civil, so why are you here?”

Dante cocked an eyebrow. “This is my house, Vivian.”

“I meanhere.This engagement.” I gestured between us. “You avoided my question the first time, but I’m asking again. What could you possibly get out of our match that you couldn’t get on your own?”

Lau Jewels was a big company, but the Russo Group eclipsed it tenfold. It didn’t make sense.

My father told me it had something to do with market access in Asia, which was admittedly Lau Jewels’s strong point and the Russo Group’s weak one, but was that important enough for Dante to upend his personal life for?

His expression stiffened. “It doesn’t matter.”


Tags: Ana Huang Kings of Sin Erotic