Maeve orders juice.“Still breastfeeding,” she murmurs when I raise an eyebrow at her choice.
I slap my forehead.“Of course.I’m sorry.”
I gaze into Patrick’s cute face.He’s clearly fighting sleep.His eyes close, and he sighs so loudly his whole tiny body trembles.I smile when his eyes flutter open for a moment before shutting off the world.I run the back of my hand against his cheek, looking up into Maeve’s smiling face.
“Wait until you have your own.Babies don’t look so peaceful when they’re screaming at the top of their lungs in the middle of the night because they’re hungry or wet.”She winks.
“I’m not thinking about kids.Not yet.”
She tilts her head, studying my face.“I wouldn’t be so sure.I heard about your Vegas wedding.Congratulations, by the way.That must have been quite the whirlwind.”
“It was,” I say carefully.“I’m pretty sure Tommy told you the circumstances of the wedding, right?Shelby and I have known each other for years.I needed help, and Shelby stepped up.”
“That’s usually how it works with men like ours.”Maeve’s smile carries a weight because she understands exactly how little choice women usually have in our world.Her father also overlooked her until she proved her worth beyond any doubt.“Tommy was the same way.He decided we were going to be together, and then he made it happen.”
A server arrives with our drinks, giving me a moment to process.Maeve is being honest about her own situation.She and Tommy had a forced marriage that somehow became real.It’s both comforting and terrifying.
Angie arrives then, sliding into the seat beside me with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to fashionable lateness.She’s beautiful in an ethereal way.With her raven-black hair, pale skin, and green eyes, she’s got that kind of effortless elegance that makes men lose their minds.As a Silvieri, Angela comes from a powerful Italian family.Her father has reigned over New York’s underworld for decades.She’s also the wife of a rock star, whose father and brothers run an Irish mafia empire.That means Angie understands the strange juxtaposition of fame, luxury, and darkness that defines our world.
“Sorry, sorry,” Angie says, waving off the server’s attempt to help her settle.“Muse of Darkness is in their studio in San Francisco.Their producer is having a complete meltdown about the mixing on the new album.As if I can do anything about that from Boston.”
“You married a Boyle,” Maeve says with a knowing smile.“You can do anything you want.”
The three of us order salads with protein, and as we eat, the conversation drifts into the comfortable territory of shared experience.Angie talks about assisting Nick’s band’s manager while raising their newborn daughter.Maeve discusses the challenges of running a cybersecurity company while being married to a man whose day job involves managing organized crime operations.
“Can I ask you, ladies, something?”I lean forward slightly, my voice dropping.“Do all the Boyle brothers enjoy cosplaying Doctor Jekyll and Mr.Hyde?”
Maeve’s wholehearted laughter makes Patrick stir without waking the baby up.Our table receives a few side glances.She ignores them and whispers, “The Boyles play hot and cold until they get us to the brink of insanity.But that’s only because they’re fighting their own demons and lying to themselves about their real feelings.”
Angie nods as she complements her sister-in-law’s reply, “They totally gaslight us in the early stages of the relationship.But then they turn up the heat in the sack and fulfillallour darkest, dirtiest fantasies.Oh, boy!”She fans herself, rolling her eyes and making us belly-laugh at her overdramatic silliness.“You know what I mean!”
The server returns to take our plates.I wait until dessert is served to turn to Maeve and ask, “How do you do it?How do you manage to be happy when everything around you is so dark?”
Maeve glances at Patrick, and a grin brightens her face.When she looks back at me, her expression is thoughtful.“That’s the question, isn’t it?The one none of us ever really answers until we’re living it.But I’ll tell you this: it’s not easy,” Maeve murmurs.“Running my company requires serious focus.Tommy requires serious focus.Patrick requires serious focus.Some days I feel like I’m being pulled in a thousand directions at once.”
She pauses to adjust Patrick’s blanket, her touch gentle and automatic.“But here’s the thing,” she continues, looking directly at me.“I wouldn’t trade a single second of this life for anything.Not the easy version where I have some normal job, and a normal husband, and a normal life.Because the version I have?The messy, complicated, sometimes terrifying version?It’s real.It’s mine.And the people I love are in it.”
Something in her words reaches past all my carefully constructed defenses and touches the raw, bleeding part of my heart that I’ve been trying to protect.
“What if the people you love are part of the darkness?”I ask quietly.“What if you have to choose between them and doing the right thing?”
Maeve sets down her fork with deliberate care.“Then, you figure out what the right thing actually is.Because in our world, Serena, the right thing isn’t always what the law says.Sometimes it’s what your heart demands, even when your head is screaming that it’s impossible.”
I want to ask her more.I want to tell her about my father and the flash drive and the impossible weight of evidence that proves he’s been running human trafficking operations for years.But Angie changes the subject, and the moment slips away like water through my fingers.
“Oh, isn’t he adorable?”Angie coos as she smooths Patrick’s hair.“I used to watch Martha sleep for hours.I miss that.”
I chuckle.“You sound like you’re planning your next pregnancy.”
“I’d love it.”Angie shrugs.“But Martha’s about to turn two, and you know what they say about the terrible twos.”She guffaws.
Maeve joins Angie in another bout of hearty laughter.I offer a weak smile as I watch the two mothers bonding over their kids and growing family.The sharp pain in my chest has nothing to do with envy.It has everything to do with realizing how precarious my current situation is—married to a man running from his demons.At the same time, I’m digging my father’s own grave.I would sell my soul to the devil for a chance at the kind of happiness Maeve and Angie have found.
By the time we finish lunch, I feel simultaneously lighter and heavier.Lighter because Maeve has given me permission, in her own way, to believe that love can exist in darkness.Heavier because I now understand the price I have to pay for that love.
The limo Shelby insists on providing is waiting outside the restaurant.Marcus, his driver, opens the door for me.He’s been with the family for years and knows how to keep an efficient yet discreet presence.
As we drive back toward the penthouse, I stare out the window at Boston passing by.The city is beautiful in its autumn decay, with the leaves turning gold and crimson, the harbor glittering in the late afternoon light, the streets full of people living lives that have nothing to do with the Syndicate, trafficking operations, or impossible choices.
