Page 74 of Velvet Chains
“Five minutes,” she said, sharp and clipped.
I moved past her before she could change her mind. “Good. But still…we’ll need this.” I set the eggnog down on the kitchen counter with a dull thunk. The lights were low. The place smelled like cinnamon and something scorched in the oven, maybe from the night before. It felt lived-in. It felt like her. “You’re not gonna like what I have to say to you, so maybe drink up.”
“So dramatic,” she muttered. “I should’ve put on music for that effect. Very mobster soap opera. You could win an award.”
I didn’t take the bait. “Where’s Rosie?”
She hesitated—just a beat too long. “With her father.”
“I’m her father.”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Yeah, no. You aren’t.”
That one landed. I didn’t flinch, but it tore something open anyway. I swallowed it down, forced my voice to stay even.
“Anyway,” she said, like she hadn’t just taken a wrecking ball to my ego. “She went home with Julian. Fell on the playground. Bumped her head.”
The world tilted. My hands clenched at my sides.
I didn’t realize I’d gone pale until she added, softer, “She’s fine.”
I looked up.
Ruby was watching me now—closely, carefully, like she could see the panic spiking under my skin.
“The school’s just overly cautious,” she said. “She didn’t even cry. Julian said they got bagels on the way home.”
I forced a breath through my nose. Nodded. “Good…that’s good.”
But I still couldn’t shake the image—Rosie hurt, crying, calling for someone else. For him.
She stood by the window like she was keeping watch, arms still crossed. “Say what you need to say and don’t drag it out.”
“I’m going to spike this,” I said, gesturing at the eggnog. “Your vodka where it used to be?”
“I’m not kidding. What do you want?”
“To help you,” I said. “To keep you safe.”
She stared at me. “I am safe. You’re the one who’s not.”
“Someone’s been surveilling you, Rubes. They’ve got eyes everywhere.”
She considered that for a long minute. “I know. I’m the DA; it makes sense that people are watching me.”
“Yeah, I don’t mean that,” I sat on one of the barstools. “I’m talking about the law. I think the FBI has been watching you for a minute.”
“Because of you,” she said. Not asking.
“Yeah. Because of Russell, technically. But they know we’re connected, and the DOJ is using it as leverage. Even Customs isin on the game.” I didn’t want to say the next part but I had to. “If it goes south—if they find evidence—”
“They’ll try to pin it on me,” she finished. Her expression stayed hard, but I could see the crack. Just a little. Just enough.
“You’ll be a good get. Mobster-friendly DA,” I said. “It’ll make the higher-ups look good.”
“I’m not mobster-friendly,” she replied. “You walked into my house—you killed someone—I didn’t…”
I pressed a hand against my temple. “Ruby, how many crimes did we commit that night? After Russell was killed? How many?”
