Chapter 6 - The Price of Coming Home
Natalie Keene arrived at Declan’s house before eight the next morning.
She was forty-something, sharp-eyed, calm, and completely unimpressed by the guards.
She sat across from Declan.
“You finally called.”
Declan placed a flash drive on the table.
“You finally get what you wanted.”
Natalie looked at it but didn’t touch it.
“What changed?”
Declan glanced toward the staircase.
Sienna stood there.
Maisie was upstairs with Margaret.
Natalie understood immediately.
“Family.”
Declan said nothing.
Natalie picked up the drive.
“This had better be worth seven years of you wasting my time.”
“It’s worth twenty indictments.”
She studied him.
“And yours?”
“Probably two.”
Sienna’s stomach tightened.
Natalie noticed.
“I’m not promising immunity.”
Declan nodded.
“I’m not asking for it.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“My mother stays out of it. Sienna stays out of it. My daughter’s identity stays sealed.”
Natalie leaned back.
“You’re in no position to dictate terms.”
Declan’s gaze hardened.
“I’m giving you judges, union officials, shipping executives, laundering routes, offshore accounts, and three people inside law enforcement.”
Natalie paused.
“Fine. We discuss protection.”
Before anyone could continue, one of Declan’s men entered quickly.
“Boss.”
Declan stood.
“What?”
“Victor’s moving.”
Natalie rose too.
“How do you know?”
“We have someone inside.”
“Where?”
Declan looked at his man.
“Say it.”
“Lakecrest.”
Sienna’s heart stopped.
“My hospital?”
“He thinks your daughter is still in childcare nearby.”
Declan turned to Sienna.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Sienna.”
“My coworkers are there.”
Natalie interrupted.
“Neither of you is going anywhere.”
She pulled out her phone.
“Federal agents can handle Victor.”
Declan’s expression was cold.
“He has people inside law enforcement.”
“Not mine.”
Thirty minutes later, Natalie received confirmation.
Victor had arrived at Lakecrest with two associates.
Federal officers intercepted them in the parking structure.
No confrontation reached the hospital floors.
No patients were involved.
Nobody was hurt.
But Victor had made one fatal mistake.
He carried a phone containing messages connecting him to threats, financial crimes, and the surveillance of Sienna and Maisie.
Natalie stared at the report.
“This may be the stupidest gift a suspect has ever handed me.”
Declan exhaled.
“It’s done?”
“For them? Almost.”
“For me?”
Natalie met his eyes.
“Not remotely.”
Over the next three months, Chicago learned that Declan Voss had been cooperating with federal investigators.
His legitimate companies were audited.
Several were seized temporarily.
Three remained his.
Declan pleaded guilty to financial reporting violations and conspiracy connected to companies he had controlled during the early years of his involvement.
Because of his cooperation, the absence of violent charges, and the evidence he supplied, prosecutors recommended probation, heavy financial penalties, and community restitution instead of imprisonment.
The news called him everything from crime boss to informant to businessman.
Maisie called him Declan.
Until one afternoon in Sienna’s apartment.
They were packing.
Not because Declan had bought her a mansion.
Sienna had refused.
Instead, she found a modest townhouse closer to Maisie’s school.
Declan helped carry boxes.
“You know,” he said, lifting one marked KITCHEN, “I own a moving company.”
“You used to.”
“I still own forty percent.”
“I’m not having twelve men move six boxes.”
“There are thirty-seven boxes.”
“Stop counting.”
Maisie appeared holding the old eviction notice.
“Mom, what’s this?”
Sienna took it.
“Something we don’t need anymore.”
Mrs. Pratt had withdrawn the eviction after Sienna’s delayed payroll came through and she arranged a payment plan.
Declan hadn’t paid it.
That mattered to Sienna.
He had offered.
She had said no.
He had respected it.
Maisie looked at him.
“Are you moving with us?”
Declan froze.
Sienna nearly dropped the box in her hands.
“No,” she said.
Declan nodded.
“No.”
Maisie frowned.
“Why?”
Sienna opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Good question.
Declan rubbed the back of his neck.
“Because your mom and I are still figuring things out.”
Maisie sighed dramatically.
“Adults take forever.”
“Correct,” Declan said.
She disappeared into her bedroom.
Sienna looked at him.
“You handled that well.”
“I’ve negotiated multimillion-dollar contracts with less pressure.”
She smiled.
Then silence settled.
Declan stepped closer.
“Sienna.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want seven years back.”
She looked at him.
“Good, because you can’t have them.”
“I know.”
“I’m not the twenty-two-year-old girl you left.”
“I know.”
“I have a daughter, debt, bad knees after twelve-hour shifts, and absolutely no tolerance for mysterious men standing outside buildings.”
His mouth twitched.
“Understood.”
“And you’re complicated.”
“That’s generous.”
She looked at him for several seconds.
“Then stop trying to recreate what we had.”
His expression changed.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if there’s going to be anything between us…”
She stepped closer.
“…it has to be something new.”
Declan barely breathed.
“Is there?”
Sienna looked at him.
“Maybe.”
He smiled.
It wasn’t the controlled smile of the man Chicago feared.
It was the crooked smile of the college student who used to burn pancakes.
Sienna had missed that smile.
More than she wanted to admit.
Then Maisie shouted from the bedroom.
“Can you two stop staring weirdly and help me?”
Sienna closed her eyes.
Declan whispered, “Definitely yours.”
She elbowed him.
He laughed.
May you like
And for once, nobody in the room was afraid of what tomorrow might bring.
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