Dark Kings

by Sadie Moss

  “Feel free to use the shower before you go,” he calls back over his shoulder. He opens the fridge and grabs one of those fancy plant-based energy drink things that he drinks. I honestly don’t recognize half the contents of the man’s kitchen—it’s like he’s on ten different food fads at once.

  The actress emerges. She’s prettier than the millionaire’s daughter who was here three days ago, I decide. There’s something soft and vulnerable about her as she looks at Beckett, whose back is turned, and my heart goes out to her.

  Don’t you know? I want to ask her. Don’t you know he can never care about you? It’s not in his nature.

  That’s not how the sins work.

  That’s not how this man works.

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” she asks, pouting a bit.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Beckett replies. He drains the bottle of energy drink without even looking at her, then tosses the bottle into the trash with one hand and picks his phone up off the kitchen counter with the other. It’s locked with a fingerprint and facial recognition.

  He unlocks it, looks at the latest news feed, then rests it back on the counter as the actress says, “Oh, all right then. I’ll just… go.”

  He leaves the phone on the counter and walks toward the woman, his steps languid and unhurried. Quickly, while the screen is still unlocked, I dart forward and brush my finger over the screen. He’s facing away from me, and this is the first time I’ve gotten the chance to take a peek at the contents of his phone. I can’t waste the opportunity.

  There are a bunch of apps I don’t recognize—a lot of them having to do with stocks or bonds or trading. No games, which is unsurprising.

  Come on. There’s gotta be something useful here…

  I glance up as I hear noises and find that Beckett’s kissing the actress again. He kisses like it’s his job. A job he’s good at, sure, but not something he’s got… passion for. Does this man not care about anything?

  The woman doesn’t seem to sense anything amiss. Whatever he’s doing to her is making her moan again, her voice getting breathier.

  My stomach clenches, and I swallow hard. This would usually be the part where I’d slip into the pantry and stuff my face full of chocolate, but—I can’t. I have to keep digging through his phone while he’s distracted.

  While they do whatever they’re doing, I turn back to the cell phone. There has to be some mention of the other six sins in here, right? From what I’ve heard, they were all created at the same time. So while they’re not actually related in any way, they’re sort of like brothers. Brothers stay in touch with each other, right?

  “Mmm, I get it. I know what you need,” Beckett purrs, his voice commanding and sophisticated but also savage, like a hungry wolf. A jolt of heat shoots through me, and despite my best efforts, my gaze drags upward as he turns the woman around and she braces her hands on the counter. “That’s right. Hold on for me; that’s a good girl. You’re greedy for me, aren’t you?”

  Something about the way he says greedy makes my stomach do a strange little twist, and I watch his face as he starts to touch her. I can’t quite see what he’s doing with the counter in the way, but he’s standing behind her with one arm around her, his other hand down between her legs. She’s whimpering and crying out in pleasure again, and something in me throbs so badly I think I might die.

  “Admit it,” the towering man growls. “You’re greedy for me, you can’t get enough.”

  “Yes.” She moans her agreement. “Yes, yes, yes…”

  Beckett’s green eyes flare, and he inhales deeply, like he’s sucking something out of the air. His eyes are glowing, truly glowing, and my breath catches as I realize—he’s feeding off of it, off of her greed. And then he’s pouring it right back into her.

  He’s not sleeping with all these women for himself, or at least not just for himself. It’s not just because he’s greedy. It’s about making them greedy, making them want more and more and more, dangling them on a string and keeping them just close enough to starving to make them claw desperately when he deigns to give them attention.

  For the first time, I see Beckett look truly alive, sucking up this woman’s greed like it’s a drug, and I’m in so much shock that my fingertip has gone completely still on the phone’s screen.

  My entire body feels like it’s on fire, and my heart is beating so hard it actually hurts. I’m supposed to be doing recon, searching through his phone while he’s distracted, but I’m the one who’s distracted. I can’t block out what’s happening right in front of me, can’t look away or even blink.

  The woman sobs with pleasure, her back arching as her eyes flutter shut, and my throat goes utterly dry. Beckett pulls back, looking smug, commanding, and sated, and it makes me feel so desperate for something I can’t even name that it feels like I can’t breathe.

  Frick. I really need to get moving on this assignment.

  I can’t stay here too long.

  Not with Beckett making me weirdly turned on. Not with being strangely… jealous, almost, of the women he’s sleeping with. I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t intend to keep feeling this way, thanks.

  Tomorrow, I need to make a move.

  Chapter Six

  Trinity

  The next morning, I swipe one of Beckett’s many credit cards from his wallet while he’s in the shower.

  Instead of following him when he leaves for work, I go to the nearest department store and use the card to buy a very nice suit for myself, and snazzy briefcase to go with it.

  Yes, I’m aware this is technically stealing, and it’s wrong, but Upstairs will understand, surely? I’m stealing from a guy who can certainly spare it, and I’m using the money for a good purpose.

  Maybe I’ll just keep this part out of the report to Anderson though. I haven’t contacted him yet, and I’m not sure whether I should be giving him progress reports or if I should only call him in case of a real emergency, but either way, nothing’s really happened yet. I’ve just been Beckett’s weird stalker roommate that he doesn’t even know he has.

  Once I actually look the part of someone worth Beckett’s time, I go to his company’s building and head right up to the floor where he works, staying invisible until I reach his office so that nobody tries to stop me and ask me what I’m doing here.

  Beckett’s secretary is at her desk. My research this past week revealed that he goes through secretaries like water in the desert. He insists on good-looking secretaries, then sleeps with them within a few months. The affairs are always brief but insanely hot, if the rumors are to be believed—then he gets a new secretary and starts the cycle all over again.

  “Hi.” I smile at her as I walk up, trying to project my friendliest aura. It’s not her fault she’s working for the personification of Greed, or that she’ll eventually sleep with him. Or that I irrationally hate her for it. “I’m here for my two o’clock appointment?”

  The woman stares at me for a moment as panic flits across her features, then looks down at her calendar. I’m not on there, of course, because I don’t actually have an appointment. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong day. What’s your name?”

  “Olivia… Pope.” My mouth snaps shut as soon as I say the word, and I barely resist the urge to bang my head against her desk. Come on, Trin! You couldn’t think of a single other name?

  Fortunately, this woman must not’ve spent as many hours bingeing TV as I have, because she doesn’t bat an eye at the name I just gave her. Before she can speak, I rush on.

  “I’m here from HDR,” I say with a smile. “Humane Dog Rescue? Mr. Davenport has been a generous donor in the past, and we’re hoping to start a new initiative with some prominent celebrity backers taking the spotlight to help us get more attention and funding. The head of our PR department thought that Mr. Davenport would be the perfect candidate given his past support of us so… here I am!”

  I make a little ta-da gesture.

  The w
oman looks like she got a bit lost during my long-winded explanation, but at my mention of Beckett having supported the organization before, she nods.

  Clearly, she’s new enough to this job that she has no idea that’s a lie, but it works out well for me because she quickly gets up and leads me toward his office door.

  “Of course. I’m so sorry your appointment wasn’t in our system. Right this way, please. He has another appointment at two-thirty, so I’m afraid you won’t have a lot of time.”

  “That’s all right. Thanks.”

  I grip my new briefcase tightly and follow quickly behind her. She gives me a polite smile, then pushes open the doors leading into Beckett’s massive office.

  “Natalie, I thought I—” Beckett pauses as he turns, papers in hand, and sees that his secretary isn’t alone.

  “Sir, Olivia Pope is here to see you,” Natalie says smoothly. “From Humane Dog Rescue?”

  A tiny line appears between his brows as he takes me in, and I brace myself for him to order the woman to escort me right back out again—or to call security and have me hauled out.

  But instead, he lifts a hand, dismissing his secretary with a small, sharp gesture. She slips from the room, closing the doors behind her as she goes and leaving me alone with Beckett.

  For a brief moment, we just gaze at each other in silence.

  I’ve never been at the receiving end of his attention before. Despite following him around for a week and literally living in the same penthouse as him, I’ve been invisible that whole time. He’s been just a few feet away from me on multiple occasions, but he’s never actually looked at me before. And now he’s definitely looking at me, those green eyes boring into me, and I feel like I’m pinned to the spot like a butterfly on a wall.

  “Well, well.” Beckett cocks an eyebrow, his gaze trailing over my body. “What’s this about?”

  I had a whole big speech prepared for this moment. I practiced it several times on the way over. Maybe it’s a bit of a stretch, but the one thing I’ve noticed about Beckett in the week I’ve been following him is that he seems to like dogs. All animals, really. He stopped on the street the other day to pet a Golden Retriever someone had tied up outside a coffee shop while they grabbed their latte inside—and it was the only time since I first encountered him that I’ve seen his features soften.

  It’s not much, but it’s the only crack in his armor of self-involvement and avarice that I’ve been able to identify.

  Anyway, I had a whole big pitch prepared about how this will benefit puppies in need, and how much of a difference he could make if he donates a portion of his profits to them.

  But the words have all dried up. I can’t think of a single one. All I can do is stare at his thick, dark brows and his green eyes, his perfectly symmetrical features and his full lips.

  He’s just so…

  “…handsome,” I whisper before I can stop myself. It’s like my brain-to-mouth filter is completely broken. Oh no, is this a part of his ability as a sin? To get you to admit to the things you want, and to convince you to take them? To enable your greed?

  “What was that?” he asks, stepping closer. It’s like I’m being stalked by a tiger.

  “I said ‘handsome,’” I blurt out, then immediately clap my hand over my mouth.

  Frick. If he didn’t hear me the first time, he definitely did the second time.

  Maybe I can throw myself out the window and hit the ground hard enough to induce amnesia and forget this moment of humiliation entirely.

  Beckett smirks. “That’s what I thought you said.”

  He steps closer, and my body practically buzzes with the desire for him to do—something. I don’t even know what. For him to rip my shirt open and put his hands on me, his mouth on me—

  “I’m here about an opportunity to do a lot of good for animals,” I say quickly, taking a few steps back, putting distance between us. Actually it’s more like I stumble back, because my body is frozen and awkward, and I’m currently useless. “I’m here on behalf of Humane Dog Rescue, and…”

  “Ah.” Beckett’s whole demeanor changes, as if a cold front just swept through the room. “And here I was hoping that you would be here for an interesting reason.” He sighs. “Why on earth is a gorgeous woman like you wasting her time at an organization like that?”

  I bristle a little. “You don’t even know what the organization does or how effective it is.”

  “When it’s got a name like ‘Humane Dog Rescue,’ I’m pretty sure it’s a waste of your time.”

  “And what wouldn’t be a waste of your time?” I press.

  Darn it. I thought I had him with the puppies thing. Who the frick doesn’t like puppies? But I have to keep digging. Maybe if I can figure out an angle that he’ll find worthwhile, I can get him to back that instead.

  Beckett smirks again and takes another step toward me. In fact, he keeps coming toward me until he’s only a foot away, his gaze searing my skin like a brand. “I like developing… intense and personal relationships with my contacts.”

  “I-intense?” The words come out on a whisper.

  Gah! What is wrong with me?

  I’m not some fluttery, easily swayed human. I am an angel. I am a warrior for Heaven! I should—I should—

  Beckett reaches out and uses his index finger to tuck a stray curl of dark hair away from my face, his finger trailing down my throat, right to where the collar of my blouse opens and the first button is done up.

  For a moment, I think he’ll rip my shirt open and continue his explorations, and my whole body seems to lock up like someone has fused all my joints together.

  I think I should slap him in the face, but I’m a little afraid that if I touch him at all, I’ll end up pulling him closer, and I don’t want to risk it. So I do the next best thing I can think of and just remain absolutely still.

  Finally, when my skin seems to be on the verge of spontaneously bursting into flames, he pulls his finger away.

  “Very intense,” he purrs. “Very personal. But as lovely of an advocate as I’m sure you are, I don’t have time to waste on business ventures that are going to give me diminishing returns.”

  “This isn’t a business venture,” I snap, bristling again. “This is a charity; a chance to help out animals. Stray dogs who need good homes and veterinary care. Not everything is about what you can get out of it physically, like money. You can get other things out of it too, like satisfaction.”

  “I don’t think your charity is going to give me the kind of satisfaction I’m searching for,” Beckett replies, walking away to stand behind his desk before leaning over it, his fingers splayed over the wood. He’s not flirting with me anymore, or at least, he’s not just flirting. He’s the CEO now, the powerful businessman searching for a deal. “I’m going to need some kind of incentive. Is it going to help my public image? Is it going to be a tax write-off I can’t refuse?”

  “It’s going to be helping sweet, fluffy little puppies.” I’m laying it on way too thick, and I know it. But I’m getting a little desperate here. “Look, I have some pictures…”

  “I don’t want to see pictures.” Beckett narrows his eyes. He sounds annoyed now. “You think you’re the only sob story who’s ever tried to get something out of me?”

  “Given the fact that I’m far from sobbing, I’m not sure that description fits, but I can start crying if you’d prefer,” I shoot back, starting to get annoyed myself. Sheesh. No wonder nobody’s ever been able to redeem the sins. This man is possibly the most annoying, selfish person I’ve ever met. I can’t believe I’m attracted to him.

  No. No! I’m not attracted to him. Because that would be ridiculous. And insane.

  I’m definitely not attracted to this guy.

  Seriously.

  Trying to rein in my temper, I take a deep breath and offer him a calm smile. “Fine. No picture. But if you’re wondering what’s in it for you, of course helping a charity is going to aid your public image. How co
uld it not?”

  “I already donate to charities,” he says with a shrug. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to impress me. If I pick your charity, I would have to get rid of another one of my charities to make up for it and stay on-budget for my company’s allotted donations.”

  “Oh, because you certainly can’t afford, with all of your billions in revenue, to give another few thousand or so to one more charity?” I blurt. “That would simply be unthinkable. However would you manage to buy another small country, another fleet of private jets, and another castle in Europe?”

  Yup. I’ve definitely lost control of this meeting, right along with my temper.

  But I keep having flashbacks of the guy who called the Wondercom customer service line right before I lost my old job. He was scrimping and saving every penny he could to help his family. The man in front of me actually has money, and he refuses to spend a cent of it unless it benefits him.

  There’s a flicker in Beckett’s eyes, like he’s genuinely interested, perhaps even impressed, by my standing up to him like this. I’m pretty certain I’ve ruined my chances of getting anywhere with him today, but I’m not going to give up. Even if that means I just annoy him to the ends of the earth until I wear him down. I have no choice but to keep going.

  Maybe other people can afford to give up, but I can’t.

  Not on this.

  “Your disdain for my lifestyle is noted, and somewhat amusing,” Beckett growls, sounding almost like a tiger, as if just the barest hint of the supernatural is peeking out of him, and I shiver.

  I’m not sure if I’m scared or turned on.

  Possibly both.

  Okay, fine, so maybe I am just the littlest bit attracted to this guy. Maybe. But that’s just because he’s one of the seven sins. They were literally created to be as alluring as possible, as tempting and attractive as possible, so that people will fall under their spell and give in to whatever their particular sin is. It doesn’t mean anything, and I’m not going to let it affect my job. Especially when he’s being so aggravating.