Page 34 of Betrayed By Sin
Leon waves a hand, his expression warm but unreadable. “No need for thanks. We’ve always believed that the health of our city depends on its balance. If keeping two young women safe helps maintain that, it’s a choice we make gladly.”
Bria and I can see each other, thanks to them.
I can see Sin, if I decide to, thanks to them.
It is a kindness that deserves thanks, if not respect.
A comfortable quiet falls over the room for a few seconds. Long enough for the fire’s soft crackle to be heard. Then Cameron leans forward, snagging a fig off the nearest platter like he hasn’t eaten all day. “You know, this charcuterie spread could bring about world peace all on its own.”
Leon chuckles. “A man of fine taste. Amelia insists on sourcing from this small shop in the West Village. Their prosciutto is flown in weekly.”
“I knew I tasted diplomacy,” Cameron says with a grin, earning a laugh from everyone but my mother, who looks ready to swat him under the table.
“I’m just saying,” he adds with a shrug, “we should host more meetings like this. Food, wine, and no one pulling a gun.”
“High bar,” Zeik murmurs dryly, and that sets off another ripple of laughter.
“Don’t tempt fate,” Amelia says, smiling faintly as she reaches for a crystal decanter and pours more wine into the glasses. “The moment you say things are calm, someone sets a building on fire.”
I sip my drink, watching the way she moves. Poised, deliberate, but there’s a sharpness in her gaze I’m beginning to recognize. She’s always calculating, even in kindness.
Leon leans back in his chair. “I do hope you’ll all attend the autumn gala next month. It’s shaping up to be a strong turnout, most of the families are sending someone.”
My mother nods. “We plan to. Magnolia’s schedule allowing, of course.”
I blink. No one told me I had a schedule.
“I’ll make it work,” I say, managing a neutral smile unsure what an autumn gala is but this is my way of saying thanks.
“Well, I’ll be there,” Cameron says. “Someone has to keep the dance floor interesting.”
“You’ve never been interesting,” I shoot back, kicking his ankle under the table. He yelps and nearly drops his wine, making my mother hiss my name like a warning.
“I’m fine,” Cameron says, rubbing his shin and glancing toward Leon. “This is how we show affection.”
Leon chuckles, eyes crinkling. “It’s good to see family with that kind of dynamic. Sometimes I think the city forgets how human we all still are.”
That statement lingers for a beat, heavier than the rest. No one says it, but we’re all thinking it: in this life, being human is often a liability.
After another few minutes of polite conversation, light politics, and debates over the merits of Paris vs. Rome, Amelia stands and smooths her blouse. “Magnolia, would you join me for a moment?”
“Of course.” I rise, setting my glass down and following her out of the room. As we walk through the long corridor, I pass another oil painting. This one of a young Leon in uniform, maybe military or something more obscure. He looks just as unreadable then as he does now.
Amelia pauses in a quiet alcove near a window. The late day light streams through gauzy curtains, casting her in a soft glow.
“I meant what I said about you reminding me of myself,” she says, turning to face me.
I blink. “How so?” I ask, curious despite myself.
Amelia smiles, and for once, it feels like there’s a crack in the porcelain. “I wasn’t born into this world. I met Leon when I was twenty. Fell in love with the man, not the world he came from. And for a long time, I hated the work. The deals, the rules, the watching your back even in your own home.”
I study her face, the edge behind her words. “So, what changed?”
“I did,” she says softly. “Because love, real love, doesn’t mean erasing yourself. It means finding where you can still exist honestly, even in rooms like that one.”
I nod slowly. “It’s been so hard,” I admit. “My whole life changed the moment -” I stop myself. I don’t even have the words for the constant emotional whiplash.
“I know this world is hard to adjust to. Breathe and talk to me.”
