King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, 4)
King of Sloth: Chapter 2

Nothing brightened my day more than riling Sloane up. She was so predictable in her responses and so spectacular in her anger, and I loved seeing her ice-queen façade melt long enough to reveal a glimpse of the real person underneath.

It didn’t happen often, but when it did, I added it to the mental drawer where I collected all things Sloane.

“Ah, you’re one of those.” I flicked a gaze over my new publicist’s tight bun and tailored dress. “Uptight rule follower. Got it. You should’ve introduced yourself that way instead of with your name.”

The glare she bestowed on me could’ve leveled an entire city block.

Objectively, Sloane was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met. Blue eyes, long legs, symmetrical face…Michelangelo himself couldn’t have sculpted a better female form.

Too bad none of that came with a sense of humor.

She said something sharp in response, but I’d already tuned her out.

Fuck my father for forcing me into this stupid arrangement. If it weren’t for my inheritance, I’d tell him to piss off.

Publicists were glorified babysitters, and I didn’t want or need a babysitter. Besides, as pleasing to the eye as she was, I could already tell Sloane was going to be a major buzzkill.

That’d been our first meeting. My initial animosity toward her had run out of oxygen since then, leaving…hell, I didn’t know. Curiosity. Attraction. Frustration.

Much more complicated emotions than hostility, unfortunately.

I didn’t know when the switch flipped, but I wished I could go back and unflip it. I’d much rather hate her than be intrigued by her.

“Stand up straight,” Sloane said without taking her eyes off the man beelining toward us. “You’re at a black-tie event, not the beach. Try to pretend you want to be here.”

“There’s alcohol, food, and a gorgeous woman by my side. Of course I want to be here,” I drawled, telling the truth in the first part and lying my ass off in the second.

My gaze skimmed over her quickly enough to escape her notice, yet long enough to imprint the image in my mind. On anyone else, her simple black gown would’ve been boring, but Sloane could wear a grocery bag and still blow everyone else out of the water. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The silk skimmed her lean frame, highlighting her flawless skin and smooth, bare shoulders. She’d swept her hair into a fancier version of its usual bun, and other than a pair of small diamond-drop earrings, she wore no accessories and barely any makeup. She’d obviously dressed with the intention of blending in, but she could no more blend into a crowd than a jewel could blend into mud.

I’ll be honest—I hadn’t expected her to accept my deal. I’d hoped she would, but she was married to her job and the gala wasn’t that important. It was a run-of-the-mill event honoring my father, not the Legacy Ball or a royal wedding.

The fact she would give up a week of precious work time in exchange for my attendance here? It reeked of fishiness, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I’d been dying to get Sloane away from the office for a while. She was wound so tight she was bound to explode, and I didn’t want to be there when it happened. She needed a release. Plus, the trip was the perfect opportunity to corrupt her—get her to let her hair down (literally and figuratively), loosen up, have some fun. I would pay to see her lounging on the beach like a normal person instead of making people cry on the phone.

Sloane Kensington needed a vacation more than anyone else I knew, and I needed—

“Xavier!” Eduardo finally reached us. My father’s best friend and interim CEO of the Castillo Group clapped a hand on my shoulder, interrupting my thoughts before they strayed down a dangerous path. “I didn’t expect to see you here, mijo.”

“Me neither,” I said dryly. “Good to see you, tío.”

He wasn’t my biological uncle, but he might as well have been. He and my father had been friends since childhood, and he’d been one of his most trusted advisors before my father fell ill. Eduardo was currently running the ship until the board made a final decision on whether to wait for my father to get better or find a new permanent CEO.

Eduardo turned to Sloane and gave her a customary Colombian cheek kiss. “Sloane, you look lovely,” he said. “I assume I have you to thank for this one showing up. I know how hard it is to wrangle him, eh? When he was a kid, we called him pequeño toro. Stubborn as a little bull.”

Her earlier ire melted into a professional smile. “It’s my job. I’m happy to do it.”

She was as good a liar as I was.

The three of us chatted for a bit until another guest pulled Eduardo away. He was accepting the Philanthropist of the Year award on behalf of my father since I’d refused to do it, but everyone seemed eager to talk business instead of charity with him.

Typical.

I caught Sloane checking her watch again as we wound our way toward our table. “That’s the dozenth time you’ve looked at your watch since we arrived,” I said. “If you’re that eager to leave, we can skip the boring ceremony and get hammered at the bar.”

“I don’t get hammered, and if you must know, I’m meeting someone in an hour. I trust you can behave yourself after I leave.” Despite her cool tone, visible tension lined her jaw and shoulders.

“Meeting someone this late in London?” We settled in our seats just as the emcee took the stage and applause filled the room.“Don’t tell me you have a hot date.”

“Whether I do or don’t is none of your business.” She picked up the calligraphed menu card and scanned it for walnuts, no doubt. Sloane had a strange vendetta against them (and it wasn’t an allergy; I’d checked).

“I’m surprised you find time to date.” The emcee began his welcome speech. Reason told me to drop the issue, but I couldn’t. There was something about Sloane that always made reason fly out the window. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Xavier.” She dropped the menu and looked at me. “Now’s not the time. We don’t want a repeat of the Cannes fiasco.”

I rolled my eyes. Get caught dozing off once during a major awards speech and I was suddenly the bad guy. If these types of events weren’t so damn boring, maybe I’d have an easier time staying awake.

People didn’t know entertainment these days. Who wanted stuffy elevator music and the same boring drinks they served at every gala? No one. If I cared enough, I’d give the organizers a few pointers, but I didn’t.

The servers brought out the food, which I ignored in favor of more champagne as the ceremony trudged on.

I tuned it out and ruminated on what type of guy Sloane might be seeing. In all our years working together, I’d never seen her with or heard her mention a date, but obviously, she had to have been with someone.

She was prickly as hell, but she was also beautiful, smart, and accomplished. Even now, there were multiple men sneaking peeks at her from surrounding tables.

I downed my drink and glared at one of them until he looked away, his face red. Sloane was my date in name only, but it was bad form for other people to ogle her when she’d come with me. Did no one observe proper etiquette anymore?

The room erupted into its loudest round of applause. Eduardo stood, and I realized the emcee had just announced my father as the organization’s Philanthropist of the Year.

“Clap,” Sloane said without looking at me. A tight smile affixed her face. “The cameras are watching.”

“When aren’t they watching?” I clapped half-heartedly for Eduardo and Eduardo only.

“It’s my honor to accept this award on Alberto’s behalf tonight,” he said. “As you know, he’s been my friend and business partner for more years than I can count…”

Sloane glanced at her watch and gathered her belongings when Eduardo wrapped up his thankfully short speech.

I straightened. “You’re leaving already?” It’d only been fifty minutes, not an hour.

“In case there’s traffic. I trust you’ll behave in my absence.” She emphasized her last sentence with a warning stare.

“The minute you leave, I’m throwing my drink in another guest’s face and hijacking the music system,” I said. “Sure you don’t want to stay?”

She didn’t look amused.

“Do that, and our deal is off,” she said flatly. “I’ll check in at the end of the night.”

She slipped discreetly out of her chair and toward the exit. I was so focused on watching her leave, I didn’t notice Eduardo’s approach until he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Do you have time to talk? There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Sure.” With Sloane gone, I’d do anything to get out of sitting here with the most boring tablemates in existence.

I followed Eduardo into the hall. Now that the ceremony was over, the guests had resumed their drinking and mingling, and no one paid us much mind.

“I was going to call and tell you, but in person is better.” Free from the watchful eyes of photographers, Eduardo’s mouth settled into a grim line that had my pulse quickening. “Xavier…”

“Let me guess. It’s my father.”

“No. Yes. Well…” Eduardo wiped a hand over his face, uncharacteristically hesitant. “His condition is stable. There’s been no change.”

A twist of either relief or disappointment loosened the knot in my chest. How fucked up was it that I had mixed feelings over what should’ve been good news?

“That means he’s not getting worse, but he’s also not getting better,” Eduardo said. “You haven’t visited him in months. You should see him. It might help. The doctors say having loved ones around—”

“The key phrase is loved ones. Since my mom isn’t around, I guess he’s fucked.”

The only person my father had ever truly cared about was my mother.

“He’s your father.” My honorary uncle’s mouth thinned.

“Deja de ser tan terco. Haz las paces antes de que sea demasiado tarde.” Stop being so stubborn. Make amends before it’s too late.

“I’m not the one who needs to make amends,” I said. There were only so many times a guy could try before he gave up, and I’d reached my limit years ago. “Anyway, good talk, but I have somewhere else to be.”

“Xavi—”

“Safe travels home.” I turned. “Say hi to everyone else for me.”

“It’s your family’s company,” Eduardo called after me. He sounded resigned. He’d only taken the interim CEO position because I’d turned it down, and I knew he clung to the hope that I’d magically “come to my senses” about continuing the family legacy one day. “You can’t run from it forever.”

I didn’t break my stride.

With the ceremony done, the gala was basically over, which meant I wouldn’t be breaking my deal with Sloane if I left.

The reminder of her and where she was right now—probably on some date with some asshole—darkened my already-thunderous mood.

I usually tried to look on the bright side, but fuck it, sometimes a guy had to wallow.

I grabbed my jacket from coat check and climbed into one of the black cabs waiting outside the event space.

“Neon,” I said, naming the city’s hottest new nightclub. “I’ll tip you a hundred pounds if you can get me there in under fifteen minutes.”

The cab pulled away from the curb. I stared out the window at the passing lights of London, eager for the moment I could drink away any thoughts of Eduardo, my father, and a certain publicist who occupied my waking moments far more than she should.

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