Page 5 of Velvet Chains (The Dark Prince of Boston #2)

Chapter Five: Kieran

I probably shouldn’t have confessed to the murder of Mickey Russell.

Okay, I definitely shouldn’t have confessed to the murder of Mickey Russell.

But when I heard the feds badgering Ruby—even though I was definitely not supposed to be there, but it wasn’t like I was going to let her go to the ER without me—I had to step in and do something.

The feds looked at me like I had grown a third head. We were outside of Ruby’s room, in the hallway of a sterile hospital, with Ruby’s best friend—and definitely not my lawyer, apparently—looking like he wanted to kill me.

But also, maybe like he wanted to laugh first.

“Why are the feds investigating a nobody like Mickey Russell, anyway?” Alek asked, the first person to break the silence between us.

Hayes hadn’t left yet. He lingered just inside the threshold of the hallway, eyes locked on me like he was trying to decide whether to pull out a pair of cuffs or call backup.

I wasn’t a lawyer, but there were things I knew for a fact: this wasn’t in the FBI’s purview, and the only person who could bring charges against me, at least right now, was the woman who had just kicked all of us out of her room.

Fitzgerald answered for him, stashing his notepad in his breast pocket. “We weren’t. Not until someone dumped what appears to be his femur in the Charles River.”

That got Alek’s attention. “You found a body?”

“A piece of one,” Hayes said. “And a burner phone we’re still tracing. Russell’s prints were on both. So either your client is lying”—he nodded at me—“or he’s about to be very popular with our forensic team.”

“I’m not his lawyer,” Alek said. Then sighed. “But I guess I am right now. So you can stop talking to him.”

Hayes tilted his head. “You’re going to represent both parties in a potential homicide cover-up?”

“No,” Alek said flatly. “I’m going to represent the woman who didn’t chop someone up and dump him in a river. I’m just trying to stop the guy who claims he did from saying more stupid shit while standing in a hospital hallway.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden legal defense. “You’re doing great so far.”

“I hate you,” Alek muttered. “I’m billing you extra for this.”

“I’ll give you a tip for good service, Ivanov.”

“I changed my mind. Arrest him,” Alek said dryly.

Fitzgerald grabbed something out of his pocket then, holding something in a plastic evidence bag—something small and black, like a SIM card. “We’ll be in touch,” he said. “Officially. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, flashing him a shiny smile.

Of course I wasn’t going anywhere.

Ruby was here.

“Bye, gentlemen,” Hayes said.

He left, and I heard them start talking to each other as he did. It wasn’t until they were out of earshot that Alek grabbed my arm. “You. With me. Now.”

I let him drag me around the corner like some misbehaving kid, mostly because I didn’t want to make a scene.

Also because, if I was being honest with myself, I kind of respected the guy.

That didn’t mean I liked him. But he wasn’t wrong.

And for someone who looked like he’d rather be at a wine bar reading The Economist , he was surprisingly scrappy.

We stopped by a vending machine next to a closed-off corridor, and he rounded on me like I’d just set his briefcase on fire.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed.

“Which part?” I asked. “The part where I stopped them from interrogating Ruby without representation, or the part where I volunteered to be the scapegoat for a murder she didn’t commit?”

“I am representation, Batman. I’m literally her lawyer.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a great job.”

“I was, actually,” he said. “I was doing a fantastic job until you showed up.”

“Really? Because she sounded like she was about to sob.”

“Someone did try to kill her last night,” Alek bit back. “Or maybe that was just about the bad sex.”

“Well, I don’t like it when Ruby cries—”

“Okay, you can’t just hide behind curtains and then jump in when you think Ruby might cry.”

I cocked my head. “Is that a fact, counselor?”

He ignored me. “Let’s talk about the important part of this.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Which is what, exactly?”

“The part where you confessed to murder, jackass,” he snapped, voice low but vibrating with fury. “In front of federal agents. In a hospital. After I told you to disappear.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said, leaning back against the wall, arms folded. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“No shit,” Alek muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to stave off an aneurysm. “But maybe try listening to the guy whose entire job is keeping people like you out of prison.”

I shrugged. “They were coming after her. I made a call.”

He stared at me for a long beat, his jaw working like he was chewing through a list of insults and trying to pick the ripest one. “You made a call,” he repeated flatly.

“You’d have done the same thing,” I said. “If someone was breathing down her neck like that, and you had the power to make it stop, you’d have stepped in. You just would’ve done it with less style.”

He blinked. “Style? You call that style?”

“I made them leave, didn’t I?”

Alek let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “You’re going to give me ulcers.”

“I hear lawyers love ulcers,” I said. “Gives you more gravitas in the courtroom.”

He shook his head, pacing two steps before turning back to me. “Look, I don’t like you.”

“Noted.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Also noted.”

“But for reasons beyond my comprehension, Ruby seems to. And Rosie—”

He broke off. His lips pressed into a tight line, and something flickered in his eyes. Protective. Resigned.

“Don’t make me regret not turning you in when I had the chance,” he finished.

I tilted my head. “So we’re working together now?”

“We are absolutely not working together,” he said. “You’re chaos. And I want to make it clear, I’m still not your lawyer.”

“Aw, that’s not what you told the feds,” I said. “I’m sad now.”

Alek narrowed his eyes. “I had to stop you. I had no idea what else you were on the verge of confessing to, and I didn’t want to make things worse for Ruby. I might’ve panicked a little.”

“Admit it, you like me,” I said, smirking.

“I tolerate you. For Ruby’s sake. Not my own.”

“I’m growing on you,” I said, staring at him.

“Yeah, like mold,” he said. “I know men like you. It’s the charming thing—it works, right? All the time. You’re good at not answering questions, at making people think they’re getting something out of you when they aren’t.”

A slow smile pulled at my mouth. “You think I’m charming?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall. “I think you’re exhausting,” he said. “And infuriating. And I think you’re the kind of person Ruby doesn’t need right now since she’s about to become acting District Attorney.”

“But you’re still standing here. Talking to me. So you must think she needs me somehow.”

He trained his gaze on my eyes. “You’re a liability, and she already has enough on her plate without worrying about a Callahan-shaped trainwreck.”

“I’ve been called worse things. You think I can smoke in here?”

“What? No,” he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “God help me, I think you actually believe all your bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” I said. “And I bailed you out. You could thank me instead of turning against me. Maybe you should reconsider your approach.”

“Maybe you should, Callahan,” he said. “Seriously.”

“By the time this is all over, you’ll see I was right.”

Alek gave me a long, flat look. “If you get Ruby hurt—”

“I would never get her hurt,” I said. “I would never hurt her.”

“Or Rosie—”

“I’d rather die.”

I meant it. I had no idea where it had come from, or how I knew it so deeply, even though I didn’t even know Rosie. I just knew that I would rather die than see her hurt in any way.

Something shifted in his expression. Just for a second. The hard line of his jaw eased. Not by much, but enough to feel like maybe he’d stopped thinking about punching me.

“I mean it, Ivanov,” I said, quieter now. “I know you don’t trust me. That’s fine. I wouldn’t trust me either. But I’m not going anywhere.”

He stared at me for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he spoke. “I wish I didn’t believe you.”

I smiled again. “That’s the charm, baby. Moldy and persistent.”

“Call me baby again and I’ll punch you.”

“That’s against the law, baby,” I said, winking at him.

Alek sighed—full-bodied, long-suffering, like this conversation had aged him ten years. Then he stepped away from the wall, shoved a hand through his hair, and shot me a parting glare.

And flipped me off.

It was casual. Offhand. Almost friendly.

“Try not to get arrested before lunch,” he muttered, turning his back on me. “I’m really busy.”

I watched him go, trying not to grin.

But once he disappeared down the corridor, the grin faded.

Shit.

I ran a hand down my face and exhaled slowly, like maybe I could press the panic back into my skin. But it was still there, hot and buzzing under the surface.

Because I hadn’t just confessed to murder in front of two federal agents.

I had done it as a Callahan.

Which meant they weren’t just going to poke around Ruby’s house or pull up records on Mickey Russell.

They were going to start asking questions with bigger teeth.

About disposal. About resources. About who had the kind of power to make a body vanish without a trace except a single bone and a burner phone.

I had brought attention to the family.

And Tristan was going to lose his mind.

He’d been clear: Ruby was the problem. Not the red carpet. Not the billboard. Not the whole goddamn federal investigation that might fall out of this like a house of cards made of blood and phone records.

I wasn’t supposed to protect her like this.

I was supposed to keep her occupied; I was supposed to get her on our side.

And now I’d just made her a liability. Again. And if he found out that Rosie was my daughter…I shuddered to think about what would happen.

I swore under my breath and leaned my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it held some kind of answer. It didn’t. All I had was this low-grade hum of dread at the base of my spine.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

I didn’t know what I could possibly fucking do here, though. So I did one of the things I’d been trying to avoid from the beginning. I took my phone out of my pocket and called my little brother.

The line rang once. Twice. Three times.

I was about to hang up when he picked up. “Go for Callahan!” he said cheerfully.

“Liam,” I said. “Where are you?”

I was sure I sounded rough, tired.

“Manhattan,” he said, the bright tone gone from his voice. “What’s up?”

“I—I need to talk to you in person.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Oh, no. I know that tone. Kieran, what did you do ?”