Page 152 of Top Shelf

“Okay, I won’t.”

Lucian smothers his snort behind a cough at Ronan’s snarky remark.

Gesticulating with her hand, Elise hisses, “Perhaps it would be best if all of you just left. I’ll make up some excuse for your absence.”

“People have already spotted us,” Ronan points out.

“I don’t care,” Elise continues, becoming infuriated despite her placid expression. “Tonight is important. There are donors here, trustees, members of the press. People are watching. I will not have you embarrass me, Ronan.”

“Elise,” he replies, matching her tone exactly, and sounding thoroughly done with this bullshit.

Oh.

Something sharp and impressed unfurls in my chest. This is not a son speaking to his mother. This is a politician speaking to a politician, and Ronan has just made his first move.

Ronan’s mother doesn’t give up easily, though. “You’ve worked very hard to build a clean reputation,” she presses. “You’re focused, disciplined, respectable. I would hate for unnecessary speculation to distract from that.”

My stomach sinks. The worst part is, she’s not entirely wrong.

What will this do to Ronan’s reputation when it gets out? To all of their reputations? I’ve never given a crap about the Winslows’ rep so I can’t say I care what it does to mine, but I care about them.

Ronan’s face goes still in a way that makes him look suddenly older. Colder.

“Speculation about what, exactly?”

Elise’s gaze moves briefly between all four of us.

“Don’t be deliberately obtuse.” Her smile hardens. “This is exactly the kind of thing that creates headlines and blazes through gossip columns.”

For the first time since Elise approached, Silas moves. He takes one step closer to me, his presence at my side steady and grounding.

Silence settles around us. It isn’t loud enough for the whole ballroom to notice, but nearby conversations dim slightly. People sense tension the way sharks sense blood.

My fingers curl around the side of my dress.

“You need to think carefully about appearances,” Elise continues, sparing her son a long glance before including the rest of us. “All of you.”

Lucian’s jaw ticks. The muscle jumps hard enough that I notice. His hands disappear into his pockets, but somehow that feels more dangerous than if he’d lashed out. Right now he’s restraining himself, but if Elise pushes much further, he’s going to snap. And when he does, none of us will be able to rein him in.

I reach out and curl my fingers around his forearm. His gaze drops to the touch. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. Removing one hand from his pocket, his thumb brushes briefly against my wrist before he lets his hand fall still.

Satisfied that he isn’t about to shed blood, I return my attention to Ronan. His expression hasn’t changed, but something in him goes lethal. “My personal life is not part of your campaign strategy.”

Elise stills. “Excuse me?”

“The people in my life are not campaign assets,” he continues evenly. “They are not liabilities either.”

My breath catches.

For so long, every important person in my life had treated relationships like transactions. Connections and opportunities. Standing here beside Ronan, hearing him reject all of that so effortlessly…

I realize just how rare that is.

Ronan’s gaze flicks briefly to me, softening slightly before returning his attention to his mother.

“And I won’t have you discussing Wren like she’s a catastrophe that needs mitigating.”

Something in my chest cracks open because Ronan Sterling has just drawn a line and is standing by it.For me.