Page 6 of Mercy in Betrayal

Pressure forms at my shin, Clem winding himself around my legs. He must have sensed that I was on the precipice, that place where I stand sometimes on the tips of my toes, ready to fall forward into misery and memory.

I let myself fall over that edge once. Never again.

With a grunt, I pick Clem up and hold him against my body. He’s massive, his form covering most of my torso and hips, but he settles easily into my arms. “I’m taking Clem to the window to look out at the cars.”

Cassidy takes a step. “I’ll go with you—”

Evie’s hand on his arm halts him. “Give her space.”

Their voices fade as I shuffle past strangers, fully aware by the stares and whispers that even if we haven’t been officially introduced, I’m not a stranger to them. Evie and my brother have made excuse after excuse for me not being able to properly enjoy New York over the last few months.

You’re in a foreign city.

As if Cassidy wasn’t in the same foreign city and as if a great part of the population didn’t appear to be Irish.

There are going to be a lot of eyes on us.

It’s not the right time to introduce you.

As though I was some ingénue making her first social appearance of the Season. I didn’t need to be ‘introduced.’

I get it, though. I understand the real reason, the one that lies beneath all of the others. I know why they hold me as tightly to them as I hold Clem to me, now. I know why every person whose eyes trail me knows everything about me, down to my shoe size.

“Reset,” I whisper, teeth gritted.

I arrive at the floor-to-ceiling window on the far side of the room, away from the bulk of the crowd. Even so, a waiter lingers at a safe distance.

Probably one of Evie’s men.

I give a little shake of my head and shuffle Clem in my arms, gesturing toward the cars far beneath us. “Look at them, Clem. Like little fiery ants, they are. So different from home.”

Clem obligingly peers out the window for a second and then turns back to butt my face.

Of course, he would stay fixed on me. He can sense every nuance of my emotions. He knows when I’m close—

“Hello.”

A female voice interrupts my musings, startling me into setting Clem down, where he sits at my feet. A woman stands a few feet away, holding two glasses of amber liquid. Guards hover several feet behind her.

“Hello,” I reply.

As intimidating as the guards appear, the woman herself is just the opposite. Elegantly dressed in a black dress that hugs her lithe body, she somehow manages to look warm and friendly. The dress features gold accents at the neckline, echoed in pretty gold ornaments that hold her hair in an elaborate updo.

She’s sophisticated and perfectly poised. Perfectly New York.

“Your dress is amazing, and your cat is clearly a god in disguise,” she says. “Drink?” She extends one of the flutes to me.

I wave it away with a smile. “I don’t drink, but thanks.”

“Oh…” Her eyes twinkle. “It’s actually apple juice.”

“Oh,” I repeat and reach for the drink. “In that case. I’m Rowan.”

“Vivi Valachi.”

“And this is Clementine. Clem is a little god, aren’t you, Clem?” Reaching down, I stroke a finger around his ear. “So smart and shockingly handsome…”

Valachi.

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