Page 69 of Velvet Betrayal
Tristan exhaled, a sharp sound in the silence. “I’ll do it.” He meant it. No warmth in his voice, but somehow it sounded more like love than anything else we’d ever managed. “But you know what happens if this doesn’t end soon, yeah?”
“We’ll cross that bridge.” I stared out the window, watching a garbage truck reverse—loud as a gunshot, two pigeons scattering from the sidewalk in perfect sync. “Has it always been this bad?” I asked.
“You mean the city? Or us?”
“Either.”
He made a thin, tight laugh, the kind you hear at funerals. “I think you finally see the city the way it is,” he said. “Welcome, little brother.”
Then he hung up, and I was alone with the echo, the empty kitchen, the ghost of Ruby’s breath in my shirt.
Ruby
Iwasn’t supposed to be here this early.
Most people trickled into City Hall late in the sleepy few weeks after Christmas—half-days, long lunches, inbox cleanup. But I needed the quiet. The air was sharp with bleach and salt, the kind of cold that crept through your coat. Safe and not safe, both at once. I dressed for the possibility of running: sneakers, hair up, a suit jacket I could ditch in five seconds if I needed to disappear into a crowd.
There wasn’t much of a crowd, which was the point. Less noise, fewer shadows.
Security didn’t even blink at my face. They were looking for the badge, the official shield clipped to my lapel, the word “Commonwealth” stamped around my name like a warning.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“Good morning, Amanda,” I said. “How was Christmas? How’s the baby?”
She grinned, face softening in a way that made me feel both ancient and jealous. “Good! We did that pancake Santa thing you told me about? She ate, like, three. Syrup everywhere. My wife saw the pictures and said I was taking baking advice from the DA.”
I smiled, grateful for the camouflage. “Just don’t let her near bourbon-pecan pie until she’s at least ten. Trust me, teeth are expensive.”
Amanda barked a laugh, then swept the wand over my bag with the same care she used on old men who’d never seen a metal detector in their lives. She gave me a nod, and waved me through to the elevator.
I took the back route, through the maze of fire doors and maintenance corridors that used to belong to Old Boston and now belonged to electricians and, after hours, to ghosts. My office was third floor, tucked behind a mural of Ginsberg in full city-council regalia, his painted eyes following every civil servant who dared to walk the north hallway.
Lights were already on. Alek’s coat was draped over the visitor’s chair, and a mug of tea steamed on my desk. He had his feet on the radiator, eyes closed, probably running tomorrow’s news cycle in his head. He hadn’t slept in years, powered entirely by stress and the myth of Russian stoicism.
He was my best friend, but still a little terrifying.
“Thought you’d go to the satellite office today,” he said.
“I don’t want to see anyone in uniform if I can help it. I’m still very annoyed at Kitsuragi.”
He grimaced. “But not at me?”
“Yes at you,” I said. “But you’re my best friend. And I’ve only ever been out drinking with Kitsuragi once.”
He opened one eye, the left, and gave a slow, sly smile. “You were never good at holding grudges.”
“That’s a lie. I’ve kept one going against the University of Chicago since ‘09.”
“‘The Great Hyde Park Incident,’” he intoned, like it was a line from a show about avenging angels and petty academic feuds.
“Yeah, well. My therapist says I should let more things go.” I slumped into the desk chair behind my piles of files. Still warm. Alek must have sat here first, rearranged the room to make it look untouched. The gesture was so transparently protective that, for a second, I wanted to cry.
“You’re not still mad that I...well, I can’t even list everything. Are you?”
“No,” I said. “I get it. You’re not mad I left with him, are you?”
“Am I mad that he kidnapped you?” He pulled a face, then made a noise so exasperated and dramatic I had to laugh. “Yes, I’m furious. But also: you’re alive. So, mathematically, I’m net zero on the emotions. Would you have gone if he’d just talked to you about it?”
