Page 111 of Velvet Chains

“Yeah?” I shot back. “So giving Julian my daughter was your answer?”

“She’s my daughter,” Ruby snapped, pointing a finger at her own chest. Her voice cracked with heat. “She’s mine, and I’m the one who’s been raising her, and protecting her, and losing sleep wondering what happens if someone puts a bullet through my car window because I dared to do my goddamn job.”

Her chest heaved. Her eyes glistened—but she didn’t blink. Didn’t look away.

I stared at her, throat raw, fists curled at my sides. I wanted to yell again. I wanted to shatter something. But all I could do was look at her.

At the fire I used to worship.

At the woman I still loved, who was now willing to legally erase me if it meant keeping our daughter safe.

“You think I wouldn’t protect her?”

Ruby looked…annoyed, like I’d entirely missed the point. “I think you’re not the one the DOJ is circling. I think you’re the one who knows who to call to dismember a man. You might notbe Malachy Callahan, but do you even know how many people you’ve hurt? How many people you’ve killed?”

I opened my mouth to say something. Snapped it shut when I looked at her.

“Don’t answer that. You don’t owe me answers either.”

That cracked something open.

I moved—too fast, maybe, too big—but not toward her. Just across the room. I needed distance. I needed to breathe.

“I love her,” I said, because it was the only truth I had left. “I love her, and I love you, and I’m doing everything I fucking can to make sure you both stay safe. And you—Jesus, Ruby. You go to him?”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she whispered, “Because he doesn’t make things worse.”

That gutted me.

She didn’t cry. Ruby never cried—unless there was a dead man on her stairs. She just stood there in her kitchen, wrapped in her shirt, looking at me like she wanted me to fight her and hold her at the same time.

I laughed, but it was dry. Hollow. “So that’s it. He gets her. He gets the paper, the rights, the fucking legacy. And I get what, Ruby? One last night?”

Her face tightened. “You got more than one night.”

“Don’t do that,” I said, my voice cracking. “Don’t pretend this was ever casual for either of us.”

“It’s not about us,” she said. “It’s about her.”

I ran a hand down my face, dragging my fingers along my jaw like it might steady me. “I know…I know that.”

Ruby stepped toward me. Cautious—like she could see the fire under my skin. “Then let me do this.”

I looked at her…stared at her. I was on the fucking brink—about to do something that would mean she never looked at me the same way again.

“I can’t stop you,” I said finally. “But if you think I’ll ever stop being her father, you’re wrong. You want to make this legal? Fine. Draw the line in ink. Frame it. Laminate the fucking thing. But I will still be there. Every birthday. Every scraped knee. Every fucking first day of school.”

“You don’t get contact with her,” she said, a tremor in her voice now. “Not if this goes through.”

I stared at her. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Her silence was the loudest thing in the room.

I shook my head, fury curling tight around my ribs. “You don’t get to soften this. You don’t get to make this feel fair. You picked the safe option. I get it. I just hope you can sleep with it.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

And for a second—just a second—I thought about ending it. About what it would take to make sure Julian never signed those papers. About what it would mean to walk into his house and walk out with blood on my hands. About the look on his face when he realized I’d beaten him after all.