King of Ruin (Price of Regret #3)

Chapter 1

"Six months."

Leaning back against the deep leather sofa, Elias Creed slowly swirled the amber liquid in his crystal whiskey glass before lifting his eyes to the man seated across from him. One dark brow arched ever so slightly, amusement flickering across his otherwise composed face.

"It took you six months to come back from your honeymoon."

A low chuckle escaped Cassian Han.

Completely unbothered, he leaned back in his seat, one ankle resting casually over his knee as he took an unhurried sip of his whiskey. There wasn't the slightest trace of guilt on his face. If anything, he looked thoroughly satisfied with himself.

"You sound jealous."

Elias let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head before taking a sip from his own glass.

Outside the private lounge, the Phantom Club was already in full swing.

Music pulsed through the building with a bass heavy enough to make the crystal glasses vibrate ever so slightly on the polished black marble table between them.

Laughter drifted in from the crowded dance floor, blending with the clinking of champagne flutes and the low hum of conversations carried out by Manhattan's wealthiest socialites.

Phantom wasn't a place that simply accepted reservations.

It was one of the most exclusive clubs in Manhattan, a place where influence mattered far more than money.

Plenty of wealthy people had tried to buy their way inside over the years, only to find that their fortunes meant very little without the right family name or the right connections.

Membership itself was considered a privilege reserved for the city's elite, and even among those members, only a select few were ever granted access to the private VIP lounges.

Those rooms were more than just secluded spaces away from the crowd.

They were status symbols.

An unspoken declaration that the people inside belonged to the highest tier of Manhattan's social and business circles, where power wasn't measured by wealth alone but by influence, legacy, and the ability to shape industries with a single decision.

Inside one of those lounges sat four men.

Cassian Han, Elias Creed, Xavier Chen, and Lucius Frost.

Each of them headed a multibillion-dollar empire. Each carried a surname capable of moving financial markets, and together they represented four of the most influential families in the country.

Elias set his glass back onto the marble table with a soft clink. His gaze lingered on Cassian for another moment, the corner of his mouth lifting into a knowing smirk.

"So, now that you've finally decided to return to civilization, are you planning on running Han Group again or should we assume you've retired to married life?"

Cassian let out a quiet breath and rolled his eyes before taking another sip of his whiskey. Lowering the glass onto the table, he glanced around the spacious lounge, his gaze lingering on each of the men gathered there.

Elias sat comfortably across from him, one arm draped over the back of the leather sofa while the other rested loosely around his drink.

The teasing grin on his face hadn't disappeared since the conversation began, and the amusement dancing in his eyes made it obvious he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Seated beside Elias was Lucius Frost. Unlike Elias, Lucius remained silent, his attention lowered to the whiskey in his hand as he slowly rotated the crystal glass between his fingers.

He sat with effortless elegance, one leg crossed over the other, every movement measured and refined.

There was an air of quiet sophistication about him that naturally commanded attention.

Across from Cassian sat Xavier Chen.

His posture was relaxed, yet there was nothing casual about him.

One arm rested along the back of the sofa while the other held his whiskey glass loosely between his fingers.

The amber liquid caught the dim light each time he absentmindedly swirled it, but his gaze never left Cassian.

His expression remained indifferent, though the faint curve at the corner of his lips suggested he was quietly entertained by the exchange unfolding before him.

Cassian looked from one man to the next before letting out another resigned sigh.

"I wouldn't have come back yet if Juliet hadn't insisted," he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "She kept saying we'd already been away long enough."

The moment the words left his mouth, his eyes landed squarely on Elias.

His expression darkened.

"Actually..." he drawled, narrowing his eyes. "Now that I think about it, this is your fault."

Elias frowned. "Mine?"

Cassian gave a sharp, humorless laugh.

"Your wife," he said flatly. "Amara wouldn't stop calling Juliet.

Every other day it was, 'Come back already,' 'I miss you,' 'The city isn't the same without you.

'" He shot Elias an accusing look. "If your wife hadn't been blowing up my wife's phone like some clingy ex trying to get back together, we'd probably still be enjoying our vacation. "

Elias immediately threw both hands into the air.

"Don't look at me," he protested, laughing despite himself. "I had absolutely nothing to do with that. If anything, I was trying to convince Amara to let you two stay away longer."

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I was enjoying the peace."

Cassian snorted.

"I'm serious." Elias took another sip of his whiskey before shaking his head. "Do you think I'd willingly invite my own suffering back?"

He leaned forward in the leather armchair, resting his forearms on his thighs as he pointed his whiskey glass at Cassian.

"Ever since Juliet came back, it's been nothing but torture for me. It's only been a week, and somehow she and Amara have completely taken over my bedroom. I've been kicked out of my own room and sentenced to the guest room."

He let out a long, weary sigh.

"Take your wife back."

Cassian's expression remained cold.

"You think I haven't tried?"

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking a measured sip.

"I've been asking her to come home every day. Every single time, Amara talks her into staying one more night." His jaw flexed. "Those two have become practically inseparable."

Elias groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"So we're both suffering."

"But she's definitely coming home tonight."

Elias's brows lifted.

"Really?"

Cassian leaned forward slightly, fixing Elias with a steady look.

"Your job is simple," he said. "Keep Amara busy."

Elias blinked.

"So you can kidnap your own wife?"

"I call it taking my wife back home," Cassian replied without the slightest hint of amusement. "Whatever happens after that is your problem."

A slow grin spread across Elias's face.

"So that's your grand plan?"

Cassian shrugged.

"Do you honestly think I've enjoyed leaving my wife at your house for an entire week?"

Without another word, Elias extended his hand across the table.

Cassian looked down at it for a second before he reached forward and clasped Elias's hand firmly, giving it a single shake.

"Deal."

The two men exchanged the handshake with the solemn expressions of businessmen closing a billion-dollar contract.

Across from them, Lucius watched the exchange with quiet amusement, slowly swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking another sip.

"You two realize," he said dryly, "that you're talking about your wives as if you're negotiating the return of hostages."

"They are hostages," Cassian replied without the slightest hesitation. "Mine's being held against her will."

Elias snorted.

"Against her will? Juliet is the one refusing to leave."

Xavier, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, leaned back against the sofa with the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He lifted his glass to his mouth, taking an unhurried sip while watching the two men continue their pointless argument.

The atmosphere inside the lounge gradually relaxed, the conversation drifting to lighter topics as glasses clinked softly against the marble table.

Then, without warning, the heavy wooden door behind them creaked open.

The quiet sound cut cleanly through the music filtering in from outside.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward the entrance.

Maverick Bishop came to an abrupt halt the moment he stepped through the doorway.

One foot remained inside the room while the other was still planted in the hallway, as though his body had simply refused to take another step. His gaze swept across the spacious VIP lounge, lingering on the four men occupying the leather sofas before a look of surprise settled across his face.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

The easy laughter that had filled the room only seconds earlier vanished, replaced by a silence thick enough to be felt.

Elias slowly lowered the whiskey glass in his hand onto the marble table with a quiet clink before leaning back against the sofa. Beside him, Lucius lifted his eyes from his drink, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze.

Cassian looked from Maverick to Elias, then back again, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as though he had suddenly realized something entertaining was about to unfold.

Xavier remained silent.

His dark eyes shifted from Maverick to Elias before returning to Maverick once more, his gaze lingering between the two men.

Without saying a word, he picked up the subtle tension that had settled over the room, and judging by the faint arch of his brow, he seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch whatever happened next.

Maverick, meanwhile, was still standing by the door.

His eyes finally settled on Cassian, and a faint frown creased his forehead. Raising one brow in question, he slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers before speaking.

"I thought..." His gaze drifted briefly around the room again before returning to Cassian. "...you were meeting me alone."