Page 23 of Betrayed By Sin

“You’re my only coworker.”

“Semantics.”

I shake my head, unable to stop thesmall, genuine smiletugging at my lips.

Maybethis is what I needed.

Something separate. Something real.

The hours pass in a blur of steaming lattes, book organization, and Victoria’sendless chatter.

We fall back into our rhythm easily. She takes orders with her usual flair,greeting every customer like they’re a long-lost friend,while I work behind the counter, pulling espresso shots and pouring perfectly frothed milk into delicate swirls.

“Tell me something,” Victoria says,tapping her nails against the counter as we wait for the next rush.“Where do you go when you disappear?”

I glance up. “What?”

“You vanish for days at a time, then show up like nothing happened.” She tilts her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I respect the main-character energy. But what’s the deal?”

I hesitate.

Victoria is one of the only people in my life who doesn’tknow the truth.She doesn’t know about themafia ties, the blood-stained history, the war brewing just outside these doors.

She doesn’t know about Sin.

I like it that way.

But for some reason, today,I let my guard slip. Just a little.

“I’ve been dealing with… family stuff,” I admit, carefully choosing my words.

Victoria’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh.”

I laugh. “Why do you sound so shocked?”

“I don’t know, I know so little about you. I know about the orphanage and that you were sheltered growing up.”

“Now…” I let out a breath. “I found them.”

Victoria leans against the counter, eyes full of curiosity. “That’s amazing! I remember you saying you wished you had siblings. Did you find one?”

I nod, not wanting to tell her it’s Cameron. “I did.”

She pulls me in for a hug, “I’m so happy for you!”

I clear my throat, turning back to the espresso machine before she can seehow much that means to me. I don’t want to tell her anymore. I know it’s unfair to keep her in the dark, but she is the one person, and this is the one place I can go to escape it all.

The last customers trickle out as the sun begins to set, golden lightspilling through the café windows.

Victoria hums as shewipes down the counter, swaying slightly to the music playing softly from the speakers.

Here,I don’t feel like Magnolia Rusco, heir to a world I don’t belong to.

Maybe, for a few fleeting hours,I am just Magnolia.

And that’s a feelingI don’t want to lose.

The hostess leads me to the back of the restaurant, where Bria’s already sitting at a small table near the window. We’ve been here before, when things were simpler, when I didn’t know who I was, and Bria didn’t despise the blood that runs through my veins.