Page 17 of Velvet Corruption

“You’re going to have to start taking credit one day.”

Alek shrugged, the glint in his eyes not fading. “I prefer to stay in the background, you know that. It’s more fun watching you shine.”

I looked at him, really looked at him. Where Julian was all sharp angles and precise lines, Alek was softer, more fluid in his movements and expressions. There was an ease to him that I had always found comforting.

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. “For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The press is here, and they want to see you.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. “One last thing,” I said, causing Alek to pause mid-turn. “Do you think I’m making the right choice?”

He raised an eyebrow, his demeanor turning serious. “Which choice?”

“All of it,” I said, waving a hand around as if to encompass the entire room, the campaign, my life. “Running for DA, staying in the marriage, keeping the secret from Rosie…”

Alek considered me for a long moment, too long. The silence made my heart pound in my ears.

“Rosie’s a child. And look, Ruby,” he started slowly, his voice quiet. He didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “You’re the most driven person I’ve ever met. You always know what you want and how to get it. But sometimes…sometimes the right choice isn’t the one that gets you what you want. It’s the one that lets you sleep at night.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. What could I say? That I hadn’t slept well in years? That the weight of every choice was crushing me? That I was terrified of losing everything—Rosie, the election, myself?

And—maybe a little—that Rosie’sreal fatherwas just waiting to drop back into my life like the bombshell I knew he would be?

“Go shine,” Alek said softly, giving me a small nod before walking away.

A young reporter, a man with a freshly minted press badge and an eager glint in his eye, intercepted Alek with a question. Alek pointed in my direction, and the reporter’s eyes lit up as he hurried over to me.

“Ms. Marquez! Just a moment of your time, please,” he called out, fumbling with a small recorder. “I’m Jason from the Boston Ledger.”

“Hello,” I said. “Thank you for being here.”

He beamed, clearly unused to such immediate access. “First off, congratulations on the recent poll numbers. It looks like you’re pulling ahead.”

“Thank you. We’ve been working very hard.”

He glanced at his notes, then back at me. “Your campaign has focused heavily on fighting corruption. Some have said that your approach is too aggressive, that it prioritizes convictions over justice. How do you respond to those criticisms?”

I took a breath, letting the air fill my lungs and calm my racing thoughts. This was familiar territory, easier than navigating the emotional minefield with Julian.

“We believe that a safer Boston is possible when we hold people accountable for their actions,” I said, giving him my practiced yet passionate answer. “Justice and public safety are not mutually exclusive, and our goal is to strike that balance. Every decision we make will be grounded in fairness and the greater good of the community.”

Jason nodded, scribbling furiously in a small notebook despite having the recorder running. “And how do you plan to handle the increase in gang violence in areas like Dorchester and Roxbury?”

“We’re going to invest in community programs that provide alternatives for at-risk youth, work closely with local law enforcement to create more effective intervention strategies, and ensure that resources are allocated where they’re needed most.”

This part was easy. These were the answers I’d given a hundred times, each one honing my message sharper than the last. Yet tonight, they felt hollow, like reading someone else’s script.

“Some of your constituents are worried about the influence of crime families in the city. When polled, most Bostonians wanted to know what you’re going to do about the Callahan family.”

The mention of the Callahans made my stomach tighten. They were a fixture in Boston’s criminal landscape, a family that had managed to weave its way into the very fabric of the city. Taking them on was a different level of risk, one that could really mess the city up for good. I understood that, if I won, the responsibility was monumental.

And if people found out that I had a baby with Kieran Callahan…well, what if that didn’t just destroy me, but the city that had become my home?

I told myself I was being dramatic.

I did want to do good. I wanted to keep people safe, if nothing else.

“We’re going to treat the Callahans like any other criminal organization,” I said. “No one is above the law, and we will pursue justice with the same vigor whether it’s for an individual or a powerful family.”

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