Guarded King (Empty Kingdom #3)

Chapter 50

CHAPTER FIFTY

ROMAN

I t’s been three days since Dad died. The night we got the news, my brothers and I convened at Cole’s place to talk through what to do. We organized the public announcement, arranged a press conference for the next day, and settled on as small a funeral as we can get away with.

I still don’t know how I feel. The man who cast his shadow over all of us is just… gone. It feels like the punchline to a bad joke.

A knock sounds, and Chloe steps inside with her usual quiet grace.

I want to go to her, wrap my arms around her, kiss her until she’s the only thing filling my mind. But I hold back. Since Dad died, an unspoken distance has settled between us. One I don’t know how to bridge.

We just have to make it through the funeral. Hopefully once the media reporting of his death dies down, things will go back to the way they were.

She walks gracefully toward me and hands me a stack of newspapers. “Here are all the dailies you asked for.”

I stroke my thumb over her fingers as I take them. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else?”

Yes. Lock the damn door and let me taste you. Strip and let me worship your body—make you scream my name.

Except that’s not what I say, because the headline on the front of the paper has caught my eye.

Disgraced Former CEO Dies in Prison, Casting Shadow on King Group.

I grit my teeth. Even in death, Dad finds a way to screw us over.

“That’s all,” I mutter, turning to the next paper.

The click of the door barely registers as I scan the second headline.

King Family Faces Renewed Scrutiny After Maxwell King’s Passing .

I scrub my hand over my face.

A notification pings, and I tear my eyes away from the headlines. Chloe’s flagged an email for my attention—a message from Forbes requesting a follow-up interview to discuss how Dad’s death is impacting the company.

Fucking great.

My intercom buzzes and Chloe’s voice comes over the speaker. “Katherine King is here to see you, Mr. King.” Her voice is so neutral, it hurts.

What the hell is she doing here ? I roll my neck to ease the tension that’s become permanently embedded in my neck and shoulders.

“Let her in.” I’ll hear what she has to say then send her on her way.

I close my eyes and picture Chloe, using the image to center myself. I crave her—her sweetness, her calm. I want to send my ex-wife away and call Chloe in instead. Screw my rule about keeping things professional in the office.

But with the headlines from the newspapers looping through my head, I force the urge down. I need to get a grip—to wrestle back some of the control I used to pride myself on having.

The media scrutiny on both the company and me will be relentless for the foreseeable future. I should be focused on minimizing risk, not indulging my ever-growing need for Chloe.

The door swings open, yanking me from my thoughts. My ex-wife waltzes in, dress too short and too tight to be anything but deliberately provocative.

I don’t bother standing. “What do you want, Katherine?”

She sinks into the chair opposite me, crossing her legs in a way that’s meant to draw attention. “I’d like to attend the funeral.”

Fingers steepled, I blow out a slow breath. “Why? You haven’t spoken to my father in years.”

She sniffs, though there’s no real pain in her eyes. “Because he was my father-in-law—and my previous boss.”

“Not to mention your former lover.”

She bites her lip, adopting the doe-eyed look she used so often when we met—before I learned what lay beneath the innocent mask. “I told you that was a mistake. One I’ve regretted ever since.”

“So, you want to attend my father’s funeral, where you’ll come face-to-face with his ex-wife, the woman he cheated on with you?”

Annoyance flashes in her eyes. “She wasn’t exactly a saint herself.”

I shake my head, not bothering to hide my disdain. “Why do you really want to be there?”

Shoulders straightening, she meets my gaze head-on. “To stand in solidarity with you, of course. If I don’t go, it’ll draw attention to our less than amicable parting. That’s the last thing you want right now, isn’t it? I’ve seen the newspapers. I’m sure you’d prefer not to give the media any more skeletons to dig up.”

I can’t be bothered arguing with her. The funeral’s just a formality anyway. I couldn’t care less whether Katherine turns up. I just want this whole circus over and done with.

“Fine,” I say. “Show up or don’t. I really don’t care.”

She doesn’t leave right away like I hoped. Instead, she stays seated, legs crossed, staring at me with those big brown eyes.

I rub the bridge of my nose, irritation spiking. “I’m losing patience. What do you want?”

“We had some good times, didn’t we?”

I shoot her a hard glance. I’m not interested in reminiscing. Now that I have Chloe, I can’t fathom how I ever fell for Katherine’s fakeness. Chloe is genuine. Everything she does comes straight from her heart and I fucking love that about her. At the same time, I hate how it leaves her vulnerable.

All the turmoil in my life has the potential to hurt her and that’s the last thing I want. My ex-wife’s renewed interest in me only underscores my concerns.

I stand and walk around my desk. Katherine perks up, as if she thinks I’m about to pull her into my arms. I head straight past her.

“We’re done here.” I pull the door open and step aside.

With a huff, she stands and approaches. Pausing in front of me, she rests a hand on my arm. “See you at the funeral, darling.”

I stiffen at her touch, but before I can pull away, she’s gone, sweeping past Chloe’s desk.

Chloe meets my gaze but only for an instant before ducking her head and focusing on her computer screen. The distance swirling between us over the past few days echoes in her silence. It pains me, knowing how it must have looked when Katherine left. And it hurts even more, knowing there’s a chance it’s made Chloe feel insecure.

“Can I see you in my office?”

Her eyes slide back to mine, and she offers a stiff smile. “Of course.” With an air of perfect professionalism, she stands, picks up her notepad, and walks toward me.

I don’t step aside as she passes, so her shoulder brushes against me.

I suppress a smile at the slight upward tilt of her chin. I don’t want her hurting, but I also can’t deny that I like the idea of her being jealous—as long as I get the chance to reassure her.

I close the door behind her and lock it

At the sound of the click, she whirls around, mouth parted in surprise. “What are you doing?”

I stalk toward her. She clutches her notepad to her stomach, her hands tightening around it.

With two fingers beneath her chin, I angle her face up to mine. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

She swallows audibly. “I’m not feeling anything.”

I stroke my thumb along her jaw. “I don’t think that’s true. You just saw my ex-wife walk out of my office, touch me, call me darling. I know how I’d feel if the tables were turned.”

She takes a deep breath, pulls her shoulders back, and meets my gaze head-on. “I hate that I can’t go with you to the funeral but your ex-wife is allowed to be there. She gets to support you publicly. She’s allowed to touch you and call you darling where anyone can see.” Though her voice remains steady, the slight tremble of her lower lip gives her away.

Fuck. I close my eyes for a beat, the weight of what I’ve put her through settling heavily in my chest.

She’s right. Katherine gets to do all of those things and she doesn’t. It kills me that I’m putting her in this situation.

“It’s perception. That’s all. And it won’t be forever, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I know.” She lets out a shaky sigh. “That doesn’t make it any easier. I want to be there for you. It hurts that I can’t.” Deflating, she focuses on the space between us. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be making this harder for you.”

“That’s the last thing you’re doing.” I grip the back of her neck, pulling her closer until her eyes are on me again. “You haven’t made anything worse since the day you walked into this building. I want you there with me too. I’ll figure out a way to make it happen, okay?”

She searches my face, and the glimmer of doubt I see in hers sends a hard rock of guilt rolling around my gut. That doubt is my fault.

I kiss her, hard. Her notepad falls to the floor between us, forgotten, as she wraps her arms around me and kisses me back.

Despite my earlier conviction to not indulge my need for her, I can’t stop myself from lifting her and settling her into my chair.

Gasping, she clutches the leather armrests. “What are you doing?”

“I need to taste you again.” I drop to my knees. “Keep quiet and let me make you feel good.”

I push her skirt up to her hips, then shove her thighs apart, savoring her sharp inhalation. She’s wearing one of the pretty pairs of panties I bought her to replace the ones I ruined the night I fucked her here—and the ones I’ve ruined since then.

I yank the fabric to the side, revealing her mouthwatering pussy.

“Roman,” she hisses. “I thought you didn’t want to?—”

I slide my tongue along her soft skin and her words cut off. With a flick to her clit, I repeat the motion. I can’t take my time with her the way I want, but I have no doubt I can get her off in less than five minutes.

I bury my head between her legs, her taste bursting over me as I suck her clit into my mouth.

Hips bucking, she lets out a stifled cry, the sound urging me on.

I double down, groaning, sucking, tasting, teasing her. Hands gripping her thighs, I pull her harder against my face. I can’t get close enough.

Aware that time is running out, I force myself to concentrate on her clit, alternating between flicking it and sucking it between my lips. Then I slide my fingers inside her, stroking her in tandem with my mouth, curling them against her front wall.

“Oh my god, Roman.”

Even now she remembers to keep her voice low. A part of me wishes she wouldn’t. A part of me wants to claim her right here, right now, and let the world know she’s mine by making her scream my name.

“You’re so fucking tight.” I slide my fingers in and out. “So fucking perfect.”

Her pussy flutters around me and she writhes in my chair, arousal dripping onto the leather between her legs.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Soak my face, soak my chair. I want you all over me, all over my damn office.” I add another finger and flick her clit hard and fast.

Her hips jerk and she comes with panted breaths. I groan, the sound vibrating deep in my chest, but I don’t stop working her through her orgasm until she goes limp.

I lick her and my fingers clean, then wrap my hand around her nape and pull her in for a kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth so she can taste how fucking delicious she is.

As she clutches at my shirt, I let myself forget, for just a moment, that there’s anything else in this life that matters but her.