Page 115 of The Devil of Downtown

Mitzy’s smile widens, glossy and poisonous.

“A new face,” she coos. “My, Dane. You do like to switch things up, don’t you?”

I feel Ivy stiffen for half a heartbeat.

“I don’t ‘switch things up,’” I say flatly.

Mitzy laughs as if I’ve told a charming joke. “Relax. I only meant the gala always brings out such... interesting company.”

Before Mitzy can do anymore damage, Dad’s attention shifts upward. On the massive LED screen behind the stage, the slideshow transitions into a full family portrait.

Fuck, this is far worse.

My mother—Amelia—radiant in the center.

Helena at her side, smiling.

Julian, Charlotte, and me. All of us frozen in time, unaware that the photo would outlive half the people in it.

I feel Ivy glance at it. I don’t look at her.

Dad exhales, theatric and grave. “A tragic year,” he says, loud enough for nearby donors to hear. “Losing the love of my son’s life so young...” He sighs, shaking his head. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

Heat spikes under my collar.

Ivy goes very still.

Mitzy’s hand slides to Dad’s arm, voice like poison dipped in honey.

“Oh, Edward, don’t be morbid. Accidents happen. And sometimes,” she smiles at Ivy, “they happen in the unlikeliest situations. One must always be...careful.”

“Ivy,” Charlotte says, voice a little high as she loops an arm through hers, “come with me? I want to introduce you to a couple of people before the speeches.”

Ivy gives me a small, steady smile — stronger than I deserve, and lets Charlotte lead her away.

I’m so livid I can hardly breathe.

I turn back to Mitzy, keeping my expression neutral, voice dry.

“Careful, Mitzy. That almost sounded like a threat.” I let it land like a joke, tone light but my eyes dead-serious.

Her breath catches in a delighted little laugh.

“Oh, Dane. If I were threatening her, trust me, you’d know. You’re so tense tonight.”

Her fingers trail along my forearm, lingering long enough to make my skin crawl.

“Though I must say... it’s intriguing seeing you react like that.”

Dad clears his throat, impatient. “Mitzy, darling, come meet the board before they scatter.”

She gives me one last slow smile, like she’s pocketing the moment for later, and lets him lead her away.

Julian steps in beside me the second they’re out of earshot.

He exhales hard. “Jesus. Our family needs a therapist. Or an exorcist.”

I huff out a bitter laugh, dragging my hands through my hair. “I shouldn’t have brought Ivy.”