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I busy myself with braiding the front of my hair, then pulling it back into an elegant bun. I’ve spent my entire life in the shadows, but if I have to bare myself to the world to set me and those I love free, then so be it.
I’ll repent my sins on the world stage.
“If you apply that lipstick anymore, you won’t have any lips left,” Aisling says softly.
I sigh. I’m procrastinating, and I know it. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter, rising to my feet. Aisling walks me wordlessly to the elevator doors, and as they slide open, she pulls me in for another hug.
Her hair smells like bubblegum and innocence, and I wish I could stay down here with her forever. Live in her oblivious world, going to school and partying on the weekends, with the only reminders that she’s attached to this life being her last name and the guards in her peripheral vision.
“If I don’t see you again, then know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve been a better friend to me than I’ve deserved, so thank you.”
When she tugs herself out of my grasp, she scowling, but her watery eyes betray her. “Oh, I’ll see you again, all right. If not”—she chop-chops her hands around like she’s Jackie Chan—“Donnacha will have to answer to me.”
Despite myself, I can’t help but laugh. Just before the doors close entirely, she blows me a kiss, and then I’m heading up to the penthouse.
When the doors open, there’s a strange feeling in my chest. Even though my palms are sweaty and my stomach is heavy with dread, stepping into this place feels…nostalgic.
Like I’ve arrived home.
Taking one step into the entrance hall, I notice a face pops up over the back of an armchair in the living area.
“Mak!” I gasp.
I don’t care if he wants to kill me. I run over and wrap my arms around him, clinging on to the one thing that has gotten me through this shitty life up until this point.
He freezes for a few moments, then squeezes me back. “Just because I’m happy to see you doesn’t mean I don’t still hate you,” he says into my hair, voice choked with emotion. Tearing himself away to look at me, he adds, “But you’re more than a best friend. You’re my sister. It’s going to take me a while to get over the betrayal, but I understand why you did it, and I’ll always love you.”
Gnawing on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from bursting into tears, I nod. “Tonight, I’ll make it right.”
Mak’s face hardens. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m too happy with this plan, but who am I to argue with Donnacha fuckin’ Quinn?” He gestures his arms wildly, sweeping the penthouse. “How the other half live, right? You’re a crafty bitch, you know that? I’ve been slaving away on shitty flights all month. Meanwhile, you’ve been here living a life of luxury.”
I’m just so glad that Mak is talking to me that I laugh. Looking past his shoulder, I notice he’s got the armchair reclined, a soccer game on the television, and a large plate of fried chicken on the coffee table. When I look back at him, it hits me that he’s in one of Donnacha’s T-shirts.
What the hell is happening?
I yank on the fabric and say, “Seems like you’re not doing too badly for yourself right now either.” I want to add, why the hell aren’t you dead? But decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut.
Chuckling, he reaches for a chicken drumstick and rips off the skin with his teeth, like he hasn’t eaten this good in months. “Yeah, if you’d told me a week ago that I’d be chilling in Donnacha Quinn’s penthouse instead of being killed in his basement, then I’d say you were shitting me.” He holds out the chicken like I’m going to take a bite of it myself. “You tried Franco’s cooking? Fuck me, I never wanna leave.”
“She’s not a bad chef herself, these days.”
The drawl behind us makes me jump. I turn and lock eyes with Donnacha. He’s standing at the foot of the spiral staircase wearing a sharp tuxedo. The intensity of his gaze snatches my breath away.
Mak snorts. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it. Romy could burn water.”
But I’m not listening. I’m too busy staring at the man technically known as my husband. The Devil in black. He looks heartbreakingly handsome, even more so now that I know I will never get to touch him again like I used to.
His gaze never leaves mine, even while Mak is shit-talking. “Ready to go?”
All I can manage is a faint nod. Mak pulls me in for another hug but doesn’t say a word. Sometimes, goodbyes are best left unspoken.
Donnacha holds the elevator for me, and I step in beside him. As we both watch the floors pass by in suffocating silence, I feel the urge to break it.
“Thank you for not killing Mak.”
“His smart-ass mouth makes it tempting.” I hear his throat bob, then he adds, “But I had no reason to. You betrayed him as much as you did me.”
I feel like I’ve been stung when we arrive in the lobby, but I know I deserve every jab. I smooth down my dress, fall in step with him, and remind myself this is purely business.
