Page 34 of The Devil of Downtown

“Hugo,” a voice interjects, calm but edged with steel. “Father’s looking for you. He wants to have a drink with you.”

“I’ve already got one.”

“Well, get another; better not to keep the man who holds the purse strings waiting.”

Hugo rolls his eyes, muttering something about “everyone being so uptight,” but Dominic’s presence is enough to make him retreat.

“Hey, Dominic,” I say, a genuine smile finding my face at last. “We meet again. I was hoping to see you. Where have you been hiding?”

Dominic turns to me with an apologetic smile. “Babysitting my older brother, it seems. Or damage limitation.” He swipes two champagnes from a passing server’s tray, handing another to me.

“So, how have you been enjoying London?”

“Enjoying not so much, working mostly.”

“Ah.” He sniffs, glancing toward Dane. “Your boss keeping you that busy?” His tone turns wry as he watches Isabel lean closer to whisper something in Dane’s ear. “My sister seems to be keepinghimoccupied.”

I’ve been trying to avoid gawking, but I follow his gaze. Dane is surrounded by a small group of Bexley board members holding court, looking every bit the ruthless CEO. Isabel’s hand brushes his arm. He doesn’t move away.

The champagne suddenly tastes flat. I down it in one swallow.

Dominic shakes his head. “I’d hoped my sister wouldn’t join the long queue of women who fall at his feet,” he says, exhaling a faint sigh. “You’ve never been tempted?”

“Me?” I laugh like it’s absurd. “Not a chance.”

God, I’m such a pathetic liar.

A deep gong reverberates through the hall—yes, an actual gong—saving me from having to tell another lie. The Bexley way of announcing dinner.

Dominic leads me through to the grand dining hall, pulling out a chair for me, ever the perfect gentleman.

I end up sandwiched between Maria and Dominic Bexley. Dane sits at the far end of the table at Isabel’s side, his attentionfixed in polite focus. She touches him at every opportunity, laughing at everything he says. I stab my fork into the foie gras as if it had insulted me personally.

He plays along enough to keep Felicity pleased, but I see it—the small, unconscious things. The way his gaze drifts to me when he thinks I’m not looking. The muscle in his jaw tightening when Dominic pours me more wine.

I’m in the middle of trying to pry a garlic-soaked snail out of its shell, debating whether I can discreetly flick it under the table, when Maria leans in, perfume floral and sweet, her voice smooth as velvet.

“You’re very quiet,” she says, tilting her head in polite curiosity. “It must be strange, stepping into a world you don’t quite belong to.”

Ouch.

My grip on the fork tightens. “I manage.”

Her lips curl, faint amusement ghosting over them. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Working for Dane must help. He has a way about him that makes people feel seen. Important.” The wordimportantlingers, heavy with implication.

“I just do my job,” I say, imagining the snail now on my fork catapulting into her wine glass.

“Of course.” She sets her wine glass down, eyes flicking down to where Dane sits, attention caught by something Isabel’s saying. “He was always so devoted. To her, I mean. His fiancée. They were utterly in love. Everyone thought they were perfect together.”

There’s something deliberate in the way she says it, like she’s laying a boundary carved in silk.

My throat tightens. “That must’ve been hard.”

“Tragic,” Maria agrees. “Some loves never fade. They leave a mark no one else can quite reach.” Her smile is soft, her tone gracious as she raises her glass—but the warning lingers beneathit, as clear as crystal. The words slide cold and heavy in my chest. Of course. Beautiful Isabel, glowing under his gaze, fits perfectly into his world. And me? I’m just an imposter in borrowed clothes.

By the time dessert is served, I’m drowning in champagne and wine, my focus a little hazy. Hugo’s slurring so badly he’s practically speaking in tongues. Isabel’s still draped over Dane like she’s auditioning for ownership. So when Dominic leans over and murmurs, “Want a tour of the grounds?” I nod too quickly.

Outside, the night air is cool against my flushed skin. The manicured gardens twinkle under strings of lights, soft rain threatening at the edges of the breeze. Dominic gestures toward a tall hedge, trimmed into perfect symmetry.