CHAPTER 36
New York in summer had a different warmth than London. The heat here was more intense, vibrant, like the city itself. Pen pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes as she stepped out of a café, iced latte in hand, the condensation beading on the glass. She was still adjusting from London, and the past few days had been a blur of family gatherings, cheerful parental conversations, and her own mind replaying the lively streets outside that bookshop.
She wasn't ready for what was waiting by the curb.
Leaning against a black town car like she owned the street, cigarette balanced between two rings-heavy fingers, was Luciana Salence Donnelly. Same leather jacket, same predator's smile. Pen froze mid-step.
"Well, well," Lux drawled, flicking ash onto the pavement. "If it isn't my favorite uptown princess-slash-ex-con." Her voice was low, rich, the kind of tone that made every word sound like a secret. "Back from a trip?"
Pen's jaw tightened. "I don't have time for you."
Lux smirked and took a slow drag. "Oh, I think you do. Tell me... did you drop by to see our old friend in prison? What was her name again?" She tilted her head with mock innocence. "Alexine Vause? You know, the one you used to get all cuddly with in the cell when the nights got too cold?" Her eyes glittered. "Or was that just me?"
Pen's cheeks heated despite herself. "You're disgusting."
"Mmh, maybe. But I'm also observant." Lux's gaze swept over Pen like she was taking inventory. "You've got that... post-reunion look. Like you saw her. Like maybe you went all the way to—" she paused, then snapped her fingers as if the thought had just come to her, but she didn't say anything more and just looked at Pen with a mocking, amused expression.
Pen's heartbeat spiked. She looked away, taking a slow sip from her coffee, willing herself to stay calm. "You're imagining things."
"Sweetheart," Lux said, stepping closer, "you've never been good at lying to me. You get this twitch in your jaw. Right there." She tapped her own cheekbone.
Pen forced her voice flat. "She's not who you think she is."
Lux's smile sharpened. "Oh, but she's exactly who I think she is. And here's the thing, Pen—Alexine Vause? Never existed. A con within a con. Her real name's Vivienne. And that charming little 'stepsister' who came to visit her in prison?" Lux leaned in, close enough for Pen to smell the faint spice of her perfume. "Not family. Girlfriend. Long-term. The real deal."
Pen blinked, stunned. Her mind flashed back to London — to the way "Alex"'s eyes softened when her girlfriend spoke, to the casual touch of their shirts brushing in the warmth, to the coffee cups between them in the café. She had suspected, yes, but having it confirmed hit like a punch to the gut.
Lux watched her reaction like it was theatre. "Ah," she murmured, almost purring. "There it is. The penny drops."
"You're lying," Pen managed, though her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Am I?" Lux's eyes glinted. "Or am I just telling you what you already knew, deep down? You just didn't want to believe it. Not about her."
Pen's throat tightened, but she refused to give Lux the satisfaction of a verbal reply.
Lux smiled, slow and satisfied, like a cat finally cornering a mouse. "You can try to play it cool, princess. But I can see it in your face. You're rattled. And I like you better this way."
She flicked the cigarette to the curb, ground it out with the heel of her boot, and stepped into the car without another word.
Pen stood there long after the taillights disappeared, coffee cooling in her hand, her pulse still pounding in her ears.
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