Page 9 of Velvet Chains

“She’s just some posturing politician,” I replied, the lie coming out all wrong—which was strange, because I was normally very good at lying. “Why do you care so much about her?”

“Do I really need to get into this with you again?” Tristan asked.

I bit the inside of my mouth. Last night would be enough to ruin her. She had gone along with a mafia plan to destroy a body, she was deep into federal crime territory and she had a child with me.

Kieran Callahan.

The second son of the scariest Irish mob boss motherfucker that had ever set foot in this godforsaken city.

“I’m going to let things percolate for a minute,” Tristan said. “I know you like her, so you may not want to hear this, but she’s going to be a problem for us. Once she becomes acting DA, she’sgoing to come after the Callahans. And then where’s your little crush on her going to go?”

“I have something,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

I immediately snapped my mouth shut. This was already edging into dangerous territory.

A beat. “Good,” he said. “Good. So what is it?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” I replied. “But it’s big.”

I could hear Tristan smile when he spoke again. “Alright. Where do you want to meet? Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No,” I said. “But it should be somewhere private.”

“Let’s eat at The Newbury,” he said. “I’ll be there in twenty. See you there?”

“They’re open for breakfast?”

Tristan laughed. “They can be,” he said. “Bye, lad.”

Then he hung up.

I sighed, staring at the stop light until it turned green, and then not putting my foot on the accelerator until the person behind me was laying on their horn.

I knew where the hotel was and it didn’t take long to get there from Ruby’s house. I stopped by the lobby’s bathrooms to try and straighten up my hair a little at least. I looked like a mess; I should’ve gone home and changed, but when Tristan summoned me somewhere, that was where I went.

The air was frigid when I arrived on the rooftop. Tristan was right, this would be the perfect spot to chat quietly. Slip a hundred dollar bill into a waiter’s hand and he would pretend he hadn’t heard a thing at all before he scampered away.

He was already sitting at one of the high tops, drinking a steaming latte. Before Adriana, he’d always taken his coffee black…but she’d softened him in all the ways that didn’t count. He’d ordered for me too; he knew my standard and predictable favorites. A plate of eggs and bacon with some buttered toast sat at my side of the table.

I inhaled deeply, feeling the heat of the coffee cup through the ceramic. “Why do you always give me this much bacon?” I asked, picking a piece up and biting into it, almost salivating. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until it hit my mouth. “Trying to get me to die of a heart attack so you can take over everything?”

“Don’t be too flattered.” He smirked. “I have many more creative ways to kill you.”

“Thanks,” I said. It almost felt like we were back in Malachy’s kitchen again, having breakfast as kids. Tristan had always been competitive: eating contests between us were routine, but I never won when he had anything to do with it. “It’s fuckin’ freezing up here. Why’d you pick the rooftop?”

“You said somewhere private.” He shrugged, taking a sip before setting his mug down again. His eyes narrowed at me. “You look like hell,” he noted casually, though he seemed interested in my answer.

I ran my hand through my hair and glanced down at myself; there was blood on my shirt from Ruby’s attempt at stitching me up, from her own hands.

“I would’ve gone home for a shower, but you seemed hungry.”

“Very considerate of you,” he said dryly.

I watched a waiter in a crisp white shirt dip back inside, the door closing before him with a cold snap that made me flinch a little.

“You mentioned you had something?” Tristan asked.

Waiting.