The prime minister? Forget about him, too. Jonathan was the main sponsor of his campaign and that should explain everything about how far his influence can reach. It’s scary to think what else he could have under his control.

Or if there’s anything that isn’t.

Of all things, running into Jonathan King is the risk I took when I came to the wedding of his son — my nephew — who doesn’t even know I exist.

Here’s hoping Jonathan doesn’t either. We only met that one time, during his wedding to Alicia. There was also that phone call, but it was so long ago. Surely he doesn’t remember me.

I remember him, though. I don’t think it’s possible to erase the few memories I have of him.

Jonathan has a presence that creeps up on you out of the blue and soon enough, it takes over everything in your surroundings. It’s the bombing from an aeroplane.

The sound of thunder.

The eruption of a volcano.

And that? That’s not even close to forgettable. For so many people, meeting Jonathan is the highlight of their existence.

At his wedding, I was young. Seven. He was twenty-four. But I clearly recall how larger than life he looked.

Like a god.

I couldn’t stop staring at him while hiding behind Alicia’s wedding dress. I dug my little fingers into the cloth and peeked up at him, making her laugh in that radiant way that warmed my chest. She told me I didn’t need to hide and that he was family now.

I did, though.

Because he was a god, and gods have wrath so brutal, it eradicates everyone in their path.

If Jonathan was larger than life then, he’s now a force not to be reckoned with. He’s the fury whose path I don’t want to walk through, no matter how much I hate him for what he did to Alicia.

Maybe he’s forgotten about me. It’s possible, right? Alicia’s been dead for eleven years and I last met him twenty years ago.

Stay calm.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Jonathan strides towards me with steps so strong, it’s almost as if I can feel them in my bones.

He stands beside me. Not beside Ethan — me.

The itch to touch my wristwatch rises to the forefront of my psyche, but I shut it down as fast as I can possibly manage.

Jonathan’s not close to the point of invading my personal space, but he’s close enough that I can smell his strong, distinctive scent that for some foolish reason, I still recall.

Back then, I didn’t know how to categorise that scent except for it being so addictive. Now, I recognise it as spicy and woodsy. Jonathan is all about power, even in the way he smells.

It shows in his entire appearance. The specially tailored suits with diamond cuffs. The custom-made Italian shoes. The luxury Swiss watch.

Everything about him says without words, ‘I’m not a man to be crossed.’

If anyone tries, I have no doubt he’d crush them under the sole of his leather shoes.

“Jonathan,” Ethan greets with a tone so dispassionate, I feel the subtle aggression behind it.

“Ethan.” The deep tenor of his voice hits my skin like a whip.

I tighten my fingers around the champagne flute, and that’s when I realise how my head has been bowed since he started standing here.

My sole attention is on the blue watch strapped on his wrist. Watches are my speciality, my passion, and they usually boost me with confidence.

Not today.

Today I feel like I bet myself and lost. I made a risk and it’s now biting me in the arse.

If only I had just kept my accountant on a leash and checked everything he did, he wouldn’t have stolen the company’s funds and left us with bankruptcy flags in the distance.

I trusted him. We all did.

We’re a family at H&H. We started so small and we grew in the span of a couple of years. We began to take bigger contracts and were given better exhibition opportunities. We were ready to take it to the next level until Jake ruined everything.

Then we had to beg for investors when we always thought we were above them. However, the moment they found out about the numbers and that our next product was a gamble, they pulled back.

The bank refused to give us any more loans, considering the amount we already owe them.

Ethan is my last resort before I have to cut back on employees and eventually announce bankruptcy and kill the dream I started with my own bare hands.

The thought alone makes me lose sleep.

“Who’s your company?” Jonathan asks Ethan with an unreadable tone.

I release a breath. This means he doesn’t recognise me, right?

Ethan smiles, but it’s projecting the exact opposite of what a smile should. Instead of being welcoming, it’s downright ominous. “I don’t see why that should concern you.”

“Is that so?” Jonathan’s gaze falls back on me. I feel it without having to look up. And I won’t look up. That’s like signing my own death certificate.

He’s studying me. Actually, no. It’s more like he’s sampling me before he pounces like a hungry predator.

Only, I’m not his prey.

It’s been a long time since I swore to never be anyone’s prey again.

I already brought down one predator in my life and I’ll do it all over again if I have to. Consequences and nightmares be damned.

However, having Jonathan King as an opponent is the last thing I want. There’s being brave and then there’s being downright foolish.

Challenging the king in his kingdom is the latter.

It’s how messengers sent by monarchs got their heads chopped off and hanged on the entry of the capital for everyone to see.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Ethan says, “Aurora was in the midst of telling me something.”

“Aurora,” Jonathan muses. “That’s not the right name, though, is it?”

Shit.

Fuck.

Damn it!

I feel as if I’m about to vomit my guts out as I peek up at him. He’s watching me with a cool, almost manic expression that betrays nothing of his thoughts. But I can feel it loud and clear.

He knows.

He remembers.

My fingers shake around the flute and it takes everything in me to place it on the table without spilling it and making a fool out of myself.

“Did you not hear the part where you should excuse us?” Ethan raises a brow.

“I did. Though, as it happens, I don’t take orders.” Jonathan is speaking to Ethan, but his entire attention falls on me.

Impenetrable.

Unemotional.

Unmoving.

With each passing second, his focus hones, turning harsher and darker. If anything, it becomes lethal with the intention of destruction.

A god about to unleash his wrath.

I need out of here. Now.

Plastering on a smile, I face Ethan. “I’ll go search for Agnus. I have your card, so is it okay if I call you?”

“I have yours. I’ll be the one to call.”

“Thank you.” I barely acknowledge Jonathan with an unintelligible nod as I turn around and stride out of the scene.

It takes everything in me not to run and give away my discomfort or the sense of how royally I fucked up.

This is bad. No. It can be disastrous to everything I’ve spent years building while I carefully stayed in the shadows so I didn’t get noticed.

I’ve ruined everything in one night.