King of Gluttony (Kings of Sin #6)

CHAPTER 1

Maya

“WE’RE FUCKED, DO YOU HEAR ME? FUCKED! AND NOT in a good way. In a dry, lubeless, close-your-eyes-and-think-of-England way.”

“Is that really what you do when you’re having bad sex? Seems counterintuitive.”

“Maya.” Ezra sounded pained. “Please. This is an emergency.”

“I’m well aware.” I nestled my phone between my ear and shoulder and grabbed the bottle sitting on the top shelf of my parents’ medicine cabinet. “First, stop talking about lube, or the lack thereof. Second, calm down. I have a plan.”

“Oh, thank God.” He let out a relieved sigh. “What is it?”

“We’re pulling every product in the pasta line off the shelves. Put together a press release that we can send out within the next two hours. The sooner, the better.”

“Every product?” Ezra spluttered. “But the reported cases have only been linked to the lasagna. If we pull every product in the line, the financial loss would—”

“Still be less than the long-term harm of keeping them on the shelf. We haven’t traced where the outbreak started, but the frozen pasta all comes from the same factory.

The last thing we want is to pull the lasagna, only to have new cases crop up related to other products.

This is about consumer trust and health, not money. ”

As the chief brand officer for Singh Foods, my top priority was protecting the company’s reputation. That included managing crisis communications—and a listeria outbreak linked to our most popular product definitely qualified as a crisis.

“Right.” Ezra cleared his throat. “Then consider it done. I’ll have a draft press release to you within the hour.”

His foul language and dramatic outbursts aside, Ezra was great at his job as communications director, which was why I didn’t question him before I hung up.

I clutched the bottle I’d “borrowed” from my parents and slipped out of their bathroom. Despite my cool assurance on the phone, my heart raced like it was in the last mile of a marathon.

Ezra was right. It was a lot of product to pull off the shelves, but I’d convinced the CEO it was the right thing to do after the third reported case. I’d staked my reputation and possibly my job on it.

If it turned out the contamination really was limited to the lasagna, and our stock didn’t improve after the press release…

My heart rate climbed another notch.

No. I’d made the right call. I couldn’t risk more people getting sick because I wanted to save the company money.

Something about the outbreak nagged at me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, so I pushed the thought aside for now.

I had one non-work-related item on my to-do list tonight, and it was just the distraction I needed to brighten up an otherwise hellish day.

I jogged downstairs and almost made it to the kitchen when a familiar figure stopped me in my tracks. She planted her hands on her hips and pinned me with a suspicious stare.

Crap.

I quickly hid the bottle behind my back and summoned my most innocent smile. “Hi, Diya.”

Diya was my family’s head of household. She’d practically raised me and my sisters, which meant she knew all of our tricks inside and out.

“Hand it over, Ms. Maya.” She held out her hand, her expression stern.

“Hand what over?”

“Don’t be cute. Tonight’s party is important for Mr. and Mrs. Singh, and I won’t let you ruin it by pulling a childish prank on that boy.”

I suppressed a grimace at the mention of that boy.

“I would never prank anyone, not even him.” I placed my free hand on my heart. “I’m a top executive at a Fortune 500 company. Do you really think I have time to run around and play tricks on our dinner guests?”

Diya raised her eyebrows and kept her hand outstretched. She didn’t say a word.

Dammit. So much for my distraction.

I reluctantly moved the bottle out from behind my back and placed the laxatives in her hand.

She clucked her tongue in disapproval.

“He wouldn’t have died,” I said defensively. “It’s the mild version. But he would’ve thought twice about accepting another dinner invitation from us.”

Despite our busy schedules, my family gathered for dinner at my parents’ Westchester estate at least twice a month. Tradition was important, and my parents made sure we honored it. I usually looked forward to the dinners… unless he was also invited.

“Considering your families have been friends for generations, I doubt it.” Diya shooed me toward the stairs. “Go. Dinner starts soon, and your mother will have a heart attack if you show up dressed like that.”

I knew better than to argue.

“Good to see you too!” I called over my shoulder. “One day, you’ll let me have some fun!”

“Don’t count on it!” she yelled back, but I heard the smile in her voice.

The adrenaline high from my run-in with Diya faded when I got to my room. It was hard to control my overthinking when I didn’t have another person to distract me, and I automatically reached for the stash of sweets in my nightstand drawer.

I’d blitzed through my favorite chocolate bonbons after news of the first listeria case broke earlier that day, so I settled for the backup gummy worms instead. I shoved one into my mouth.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. It wasn’t like my family’s company’s reputation hinged on my actions or like tens of millions of dollars were at stake.

If I failed, I would be a public laughingstock, the name business school professors trotted out as a prime example of what not to do. My past accomplishments wouldn’t matter; people would only see my failure.

No big deal.

I consoled myself with another gummy worm and checked my phone. No updates from any of the news alerts I’d set for “Singh Foods.”

Okay. I let the double hit of sugar calm my nerves. In this situation, no news was good news.

No news is good news.

I repeated the mantra as I changed out of my jeans and T-shirt and into a silk dress. By the time I finished my hair and makeup, I’d coaxed my heart rate down to something resembling normal.

I had an hour left until dinner, so I slipped out of my room and down the back staircase toward the conservatory.

The sunny, glass-enclosed space was my favorite room in the house. When I was a teenager, I spent hours here reading, doing homework, and daydreaming. No one else ever came in here except to clean, so it was perfect.

I sank onto a cushioned wicker couch and checked my phone again. One new email from Ezra. He’d sent the drafted press release.

I read it over and sent back my notes. They were minimal; Ezra had done a fantastic job.

Still, my stomach knotted as I stared at the landscaped greenery outside the windows.

This wasn’t how I’d wanted to spend the last weekend before Labor Day.

I was supposed to be hanging out with my friends, not dealing with a work emergency before I had dinner with one of my least favorite people on the planet.

Sometimes, I wondered what’d happen if I simply… walked away. No more stress, no more sleepless nights or clawing my way toward some undefinable destination.

It sounded nice, but the thought of giving up made my skin itch in an entirely different way. I wasn’t sure what I was striving for, but I knew I had to do more and be more. If I stood still, people would pass me, and that was unacceptable.

Ezra replied in record time with an edited statement. I read it over twice before I sent the fateful response.

Approved.

I put my phone away and bounced my knee. God, I could use some chocolate right now. Maybe—

“Hiding in your own family’s house? That’s a bit sad, Sal.”

My leg froze mid-bounce as every muscle recoiled.

There weren’t many things in the world capable of sending me into instant fight-or-flight mode, but that deep, languorous drawl was one of them.

I didn’t have to turn to know who’d arrived.

It was the fucking devil himself.