Page 25 of Merciful Lies

I help her out of the back seat, tuck her hand into the crux of my arm and walk to the private elevator behind the security desk just inside the lobby.

“Good evening, Mr. Fury,” Albert, the night watchman greets me.

“Albert, this is my wife, Mrs. Fury. Let everyone know.”

“Yes, sir. Congratulations, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Anna replies, but I can still feel her surprise.

Situated right on the Hudson River with a spectacular view of Manhattan, I hate to admit I’m a little desensitized to the ritz and glitter of this complex.

Sure, it was designed by top architects and the aesthetic is industrial meets sophisticate. Simplistic, minimal designs using concrete, steel, and glass.

I prefer things black and white, so when I feel Anna shiver beside me I ask her if she’s okay.

“Not really. Um, my brother is dead. I’m pregnant. And I’m married to a complete stranger. How on earth can I be okay?” she asks, and she sounds so lost.

I hate it.

And I’m mad for her.

It’s not fair to feel this way, I know. But we’re not strangers. If we were, she wouldn’t be pregnant.

I want to tell her that. To reassure her.

Maybe Anna doesn’t know about the snooping I did or the way I planned and arranged to get her in my bed. But that doesn’t matter. She is mine now and she will never be alone again.

“Are you hungry?” I change the subject.

“No, thank you. I’m tired. But I have so much to do.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” I say surprised.

“Yeah, but I have to call the hospital and make arrangements for Sammy’s remains. Then I have to meet Javi.”

“Who?” I ask, tensing at the mention of another man.

“He’s the guy Sammy found to manage the bakers,” she explains, and I notice her shoulders get stiff when she talks about him.

“I’ll deal with it.”

I clench my jaw. She won’t be talking to this man again. She won’t be talking to any man who makes her feel like whatever the fuck that was.

I know it wasn’t good. And suddenly, I want to hurt this Javi.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says and shakes her head.

“Anna,” I say her name, the warning clear in my tone. “What’s the matter with the bakers? Talk to me.”

“They, uh, they’re pissed I stayed away so long. They’ve been trying to bully me into giving them the business for years, and now that I’m back in town, they’re giving me an ultimatum. Sign the business over or they walk out.”

“Can’t you just hire another crew?” he asks.

“Yes, but it takes time to find a crew and a manager and to break them in. In the meantime, I would lose customers we’ve had for decades.”

“Okay. I’ll deal with them, too. Now, what else?”

“What do you mean you’ll deal with them?”

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