The King’s Favorite Sin

Did You?

“So,” Alissa said, dragging out the word like she was about to start interrogating a suspect, “what is it about this guy? There has to be something. You’ve never called anyone your boyfriend before.”

I blinked down at my plate, poking at the eggs with my fork even though I was starving. My face warmed instantly. She wasn’t wrong. But if she thought things with Caleb were going well, she was way off. They didn’t even know yet that my first real relationship had already crashed and burned before it could take off.

I cleared my throat. “He’s really sweet to me,” I said carefully, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “He’s not like the others. All the guys I’ve met are loud and… exhausting. Caleb’s different. He’s quiet. A gentleman.”

In my head, I added bitterly, And he is as gay as the day is long.

The smile that had formed on my lips faded fast.

I started eating faster, hoping the conversation would die a quiet, painless death. But Alissa wasn’t done.

“He is… gentle?” she repeated, raising a skeptical brow. Her voice carried that older-sister-knows-better tone that made me want to hurl my fork across the room.

I paused, a little confused by her tone, and nodded. “Yeah?”

She laughed.

“Oh, poor Kendra.”

My head jerked up. “What? What’s wrong with that?”

Alissa leaned forward like she was about to tell me some scandalous secret. “What, he only touches you very delicately? Squires you around town? Talks to you about books and feelings?”

“…Yes?” I said slowly, narrowing my eyes. “What’s wrong with that?”

She sighed dramatically, then leaned back, exasperated. “Kendra, come on. Don’t you want a guy who gets your blood running a little? Not someone who gives you a polite peck on the cheek and holds your hand like you’re made of glass, but someone who…” she paused, her eyes gleaming mischievously, “...throws you around a little. Makes you want to climb all over him like…”

“Okay!” Dad cut in loudly, holding up a hand. “That’s… significantly more than a father needs to hear while eating eggs. Please and thank you.”

Alissa laughed at Dad’s outburst, shoving another forkful of eggs into her mouth like nothing had just happened. “Okay, okay, Dad. I’ll stop.” Then she turned to me, c*****g her head, voice soft but smug. “But still, Kendra, baby… are you sure this guy isn’t gay?”

My face went up in flames. The blush crept down my neck before I could stop it. I dropped my gaze to the plate in front of me, suddenly fascinated by the smear of yolk.

How the hell did she know?

I thought I was doing a decent job keeping it together, pretending everything was normal. But the way they were both watching me now, worried eyes narrowing with dawning understanding… they knew. Or they were close enough to the truth.

Dad leaned forward. “Kendra… what’s going on?”

Alissa gasped. “Oh my god. He’s gay?”

I felt everything cave in for a second. My shoulders slumped, and I dropped my forehead to the table.

“I caught Caleb cheating on me today.”

Silence first, then chaos followed.

“What?!” Alissa snapped, dropping her fork.

“I’ll kill him,” Dad growled, the calm in his voice gone. I’d never seen his face look that hard before. It startled me.

Alissa leaned forward, stunned. “Wait… what happened? I thought you were meeting him at the coffee shop this morning before work?”

“I did,” I said quietly. “We had a nice breakfast. I thought it was a good date. Then I went back inside the storeroom… and saw him kissing the barista.”

I left out the rest. That the barista was a guy. I understood him more than I wanted to. Even if he broke my heart, his gay secret wasn’t mine to tell.

Alissa slammed her palm on the table. “What a b***h! Men are not s**t!”

Dad nodded, still furious. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He reached across the table, gently taking my hand in his. Alissa mirrored him, grabbing my other hand. They didn’t say anything else for a moment, and I didn’t need them to.

Alissa squeezed my fingers. “That little b***h didn’t deserve you, sis. If you tell me where he lives, I’ll set fire to his car.”

“Alissa!” Dad barked.

I laughed, sudden, surprised, but real. Their support, their ridiculous threats and quiet reassurances, meant more than I could say.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I feel better now. Really.”

Alissa gave my hand another squeeze. “We’re here for you, always.”

I stood up, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with me. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. It’s been… a long one.”

Dad leaned up, and I kissed his forehead before heading for the stairs.

Once in my room, I tossed my bag onto the floor and crawled into bed with my laptop. I hesitated a second before opening the search bar. Curiosity got the better of me. I typed Scott’s full name in, like the act itself might summon him.

My cheeks flushed red the moment the search results popped up. I wasn’t sure what I expected, maybe grainy mugshots or some sensational tabloid trash, but what I got left me blinking.

The first few links were from news outlets. One was the same channel my dad watched religiously. Their headline called him “The Mafia King Turned Phantom Tycoon”...some dramatic nonsense that rattled off a string of alleged crimes and whispered accusations.

But then the page shifted. Another link showed him standing in front of a shimmering building in Silicon Valley. CEO, it read. Of what? A tech firm. A big one, apparently. Another article painted him as a brilliant investor with too many ventures to count and glowing reviews from employees who said he was a generous, demanding, but fair boss.

Still another, a photo of him shaking hands with a celebrity I recognized from last year’s Oscars. He looked like he belonged in both worlds.

I scrolled, stunned, trying to match that man with the one I saw earlier in that cold, fluorescent prison cell.

“What you looking at?”

I jumped.

Alissa strolled in without knocking, and flopped onto my bed like it was hers. Before I could shut the screen, she’d snatched the laptop from my hands.

“Alissa!” I reached out. “Come on, give it back. You’re going to break it.”

She ignored me, eyes flicking across the page. “Oh…” Her lips curved into a grin as she scrolled down a photo of Scott leaning against a black car in sunglasses.

“Now this is a man who could light a little fire under me. Hell, I’d let him burn me alive. Who is this guy?”

I crossed my arms. “Scott Fischer. He was my patient today.”

Her brows lifted. “Patient? That man?”

“At the prison,” I added quickly. “He was... unnerving.”

Alissa glanced at me, her smile fading a little. “Did he scare you?”

I thought about it. “Not really...”

She narrowed her eyes and shut the laptop with a firm snap. “Alright. That’s it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re coming out with me tonight.”

“Alissa…”

“Nope. No excuses.” She sat up, grabbing my hands. “Your boyfriend turned out to be a cheating i***t, and your scary patient has you Googling him like a lovesick inmate. It’s time for some fun. I’m off work, the girls are out, and we’re going to get free drinks and remind you what real life feels like.”

She gave my hand a squeeze, and I knew it was her way of trying to make up for earlier. Her version of a hug.

I hesitated. I loved her, I really did, but we were built from different cloth. While I spent most of my time in libraries or cafés, she was a nurse by day and… well… a stripper by night. She lived out loud. I lived in my head.

Alissa dragged me into her room and opened her closet like she was unveiling treasure.

"You're not wearing one of your cardigans tonight," she said, rifling through hangers. "You're wearing something that shows skin. Like... this!" She held up a black mini dress with a low back and a neckline that definitely wasn’t rated PG.

I stared. “Alissa, there’s barely any fabric on that.”

“Exactly.” She tossed it at me. “Trust me, you’ll look hot. It’s time you remember what that feels like.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were out the door, dressed up, makeup on, and heading to the club.

Alissa plopped down beside me, her laugh loud and a little slurred as she waved goodbye to the guy she’d just been chatting with. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled under the flashing lights.

“You having fun, girl?” she asked, nudging me.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. It wasn’t a lie exactly, but I wasn’t all the way here.

I noticed a man stood across the VIP section, arms crossed, staring straight at me. I stiffened. There was something off about him. He looked out of place in the crowd of clubgoers, more like a bouncer who’d walked out of the wrong decade.

Alissa followed my gaze, then stood up quickly. “Loki!” she shouted, opening her arms like she was greeting an old friend.

I grimaced. The guy lumbered over with a heavy gait. He looked like he hadn’t bathed in days. His shirt clung to his stomach in a way that made me avert my eyes.

“Loki, how’ve you been, gorgeous?” Alissa gushed, wrapping her arms around him.

He grunted. “We’ve got to talk.”

Before I could say anything, Alissa waved a hand toward me. “Have you met my little sister, Kendra?” She grinned like this was just another party trick.

I tried to sit up straighter. “Um. Hello.”

His eyes dropped to my legs, clearly appreciating the amount of skin showing through the slit in Alissa’s dress. I tugged the fabric down, uncomfortable under his stare.

Loki didn’t respond to my greeting. He just grabbed Alissa gently by the elbow. “Come on. Around back.”

Alissa leaned down. “It’s just work stuff,” she whispered, then followed him without waiting for a reply.

I watched the door close behind them, uneasy. Minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. I ran my fingers absentmindedly over the seam of my bra, feeling the cool metal hidden beneath, the switchblade. The only thing my mother had left me when she died. I didn’t really know how to use it, but knowing it was there gave me a sense of control.

Half an hour crept by. Then the door finally opened.

Loki walked out alone.

My heart dropped.

Where was Alissa?

Loki’s eyes landed on me again as he stepped out into the crowd. I saw him mouth the word s**t before he changed direction and made a beeline for me.

“Alissa’s sister, right?” he said when he got close.

“Yes. Where’s my sister?” I asked, standing up.

“She got sick. Just throwing up. She’s a little green around the gills right now.”

I immediately turned toward the staff door. “I want to see her.”

He stepped in front of me. “No, listen. She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere more comfortable while she pulls herself together.”

“What? No, thanks,” I said, stepping around him. “I want to see my sister.”

He ignored that. His hand clamped around my arm, firm and gross, dragging me across the club to a sleek black door tucked in a corner. I tried pulling back. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. He pushed the door open and guided me inside. The room was dimly lit, mirrors covering the ceiling, pinpricks of red and blue lights glowing from the floor. The walls felt like they were closing in.

He sat me down at a tiny table by the entrance. “Your sister told me to bring you here. She’ll be fine in a bit. She actually ordered you a drink to pass the time.”

Then he disappeared.

Two minutes later, someone brought over a neon cocktail in a crystal glass. I stared at it, tempted for a second, but something didn’t feel right. I didn’t touch it.

As my eyes adjusted, I realized I wasn’t alone. There were bodies all around me, lounging, dancing, grinding against each other. Couples. Groups. Some barely clothed. Others… not at all.

A girl in the corner caught my eye. She was on her knees.

My stomach turned.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

I shot to my feet, cheeks burning, heading for the door. But just as I reached it, Loki came back in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, spreading his arms like he could catch me. “Where are you going, baby?”

I yanked my arm out of his reach. “I’m leaving. I don’t like this place.”

He took a step toward me. I stepped back.

Another step.

Another step back.

I hit a table behind me.

He pressed in, reeking of sweat and smoke. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” he whispered, his breath hot and foul. “Or your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re gonna work some of it off.”

“Hell no.”

Without thinking, I lifted my leg and kicked him hard right between the legs.

Loki’s face twisted with rage. “You b***h!”

Before I could react, he lunged at me, trying to grab my arm. I stepped back and shoved him away, sending him crashing into the wall behind me. His fury was palpable as his eyes locked onto mine, wild with anger.

“I will pay you what my sister owes you, but you are not going to touch me,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. It was the first time I’d ever stood up to someone like this. The first time I’d ever hit someone, too. It felt like survival instinct kicking in.

Loki wiped his mouth, his eyes narrowing into slits. His teeth glinted as he sneered. “You will be mine tonight, b***h,” he growled. “You won’t be able to escape from me. I like my girls screaming, and I can see that you’ve got some fight in you.”

My heart raced as he raised his hand, aiming to slap me. The room felt too small, the air too thick. But before he could land a blow, a voice cut through the tension.

“Do you mind? That’s my psychotherapist. You’re harassing her.”

I knew that voice.

Loki turned to face the source of the voice, his anger still visible. I peered around him, my breath catching in my throat.

I stilled when I saw Scott Fischer.

He was cool as ice, standing there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, a nonchalant expression on his face.

“We weren’t quite finished with our sessions,” he said, voice calm, though there was a sharp edge to it. “So would you mind getting the hell off her?”

Loki seemed to hesitate for a moment, but when Fischer flicked his chin at him, telling him to leave, the thug shot me one last filthy look and slinked off.

I was frozen in place, my chest heaving with the remnants of the adrenaline rush.

Fischer stepped closer, and I didn’t move. His hand reached out, gently but firmly taking my chin between his fingers and turning my face back toward him.

“Hello, Kendra Wilson,” he said, his voice low and oddly intimate. “Did you miss me?”

I stood there, staring at him, my thoughts tangled. Part of me screamed to run, to scream, to escape, but another part of me could only stare at him, caught in the pull of his gaze like a mouse in the clutches of a cobra.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. “Mr. Fischer… You shouldn’t be out of jail. You’re a danger to society.”