Page 4 of His Kingdom

“Not a problem at all.” She takes my card, and five minutes later, she’s giving me a boarding pass. “Do you have any luggage to check?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t bring anything.”Shit, that sounds lame.Who goes on a trip without any bags?

“Let me see that boarding pass. I made an error.” The lady takes the ticket out of my hand, goes back on her computer, and then another boarding pass is being printed. “Oh, look at that! You’ve received a complimentary upgrade, Miss Armstrong,” she says before handing me a new pass. “You look like you could use it.”

“Thank you,” I choke out, trying not to cry.I will not cry.

It’s not like I one hundred percent wanted to marry Owen. I did one hundred percent want to grow old with my sister, though. How am I ever supposed to look her in the eye again? How am I supposed to trust her? What kind of sister does that?

Once I’m on the plane, I lean my head back.I won’t cry,I remind myself. I don’t really deserve to cry. I was going there to break up with him… I think. The funny part is I’m more hurt over my sister’s betrayal than Owen’s. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I look down at my phone. I should tell someone, maybe message my parents to let them know there won’t be a wedding…

Instead, I do something that’s totally unlike me. It’s vengeful and unexpected.

I send my sister a message, telling her how I want to make a grand surprise entrance, that I’m getting ready alone at another hotel and that I’d meet them at the door. I’ve been picturing Owen’s face all day when he realizes I’m not showing up. That he was left standing at the altar. I know how embarrassed he’ll be, and that makes me smile a little.

Screw the cheating, sister-stealing bastard. I just wish I was there to see it.

* * *

I’m sure I look like I feel right now. I didn’t sleep. I spent the night crying and maybe plotting the hypothetical death of my ex-fiancé. I thought up all sorts of bloody and painful ways I could take him out. Obviously, I’d never actually do it. Like I said, it was all hypothetical.

As soon as I landed, I got an Uber and came here to the Royal Flush. I didn’t put too much thought into where I was going to stay. I picked the first casino on the strip that came up on Google search. And that brings me to right now, sitting in front of a guy who claims to own this casino. Not just a guy. A god. Insanely gorgeous. Chiseled jaw, dark green eyes, brown hair that’s cut short and styled neat. He’s wearing a suit that looks expensive, judging by the way the fabric molds to his body. A body I’m sure would be all hard lines and angles if I were to touch it. Not that I have any intention of touching him. But I’m not going to say no if he really can get me into the closed pool.

“Really? We can go in the pool?” There’s something about swimming that’s always been therapeutic for me. Being weightless in the water is just freeing. Right now, I could use that more than anything.

Louie stands and holds out a hand for me. “Let’s go swimming.”

I place my palm on his as I push up from the booth. He doesn’t drop my hand like I expected him to. No, he continues to hold it as he leads me through the casino to the bank of elevators. He hits the button for the rooftop and swipes a card. I look down at our joined palms. There’s a comfort in his touch that I don’t understand. I’m probably delusional. I’m running on no sleep and a whole lot of coffee. There is no way I’m getting comfort from a complete stranger.

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” I ask him.

Louie coughs as he stares down at me. “Not the last time I checked. Are you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I faint at the sight of blood and gore, so even if I wanted to, I’d suck at it.”

“There are plenty of ways to kill someone without making them bleed,” Louie tells me.

“Such as?”

“You planning on offing me, Charlotte?” he asks with a smile.

“Not you, no,” I reply.

Louie looks at me—trying to read me, no doubt—until the doors open, breaking us out of our little staring contest. “Let’s swim,” he says.

The smell of chlorine hits me the moment we step out onto the rooftop. The air is warm, and there is no one else here. The water glistens with the reflection of the city lights. “This is amazing. Are you sure we’re not going to get in trouble for being up here?”

“How? Ain’t no one going to say shit to me, Charlotte.” Louie takes off his jacket and tie, placing them neatly over one of the pool chairs. Then he unfastens his cufflinks and pockets them before folding the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. “Are you getting in?” he asks before sitting on one of the lounge seats by the edge of the pool.

“Are you?” I counter.

He shakes his head. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t drown, Charlotte. Go ahead. Jump in.”

I look down at the simple dress I’m wearing. I don’t have a bathing suit. I went to the store today and bought some of the basics to tide me over for a couple of days. “Underwear is basically the same thing as a bikini, right?” I say as I pull my dress over my head. Then I slip my feet out of my shoes and kick them aside.

Louie’s eyes travel over my body. I’m wearing a matching lace bra and panty set. I probably should have thought about this a bit more, but I really want to swim and a lack of a bathing suit is not going to stop me. I tie my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head, then sit on the side of the pool and drop into the water.

I turn to face Louie and find him staring right back at me. “It’s really nice. Sure you don’t want to jump in?” I ask him.

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