Chapter 6 - The Most Dangerous Door in the City
Three weeks later, Hayes Veterinary Clinic was crowded again.
Dogs barked.
Phones rang.
A parrot in examination room two had learned one deeply inappropriate phrase from its owner.
Life had returned.
Iris preferred it that way.
At 6:45 p.m., the final client left.
Then the bell rang.
Declan entered.
No guards.
No armored convoy.
Just Declan in a charcoal coat carrying a paper bag.
Iris looked behind him.
“Did you lose your army?”
“They're across the street.”
“Progress.”
“I told them to stay there.”
“More progress.”
He placed the bag on reception.
“Dinner.”
“Is that bribery?”
“Thai food.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Declan leaned against the counter.
Anthony Costa had been indicted on racketeering, trafficking, conspiracy, and multiple financial crimes.
The evidence surrounding Robert Hayes's death had also reopened the investigation.
Declan had not magically become innocent.
Iris wasn't naive enough to pretend otherwise.
But something in him had changed.
Not because she had fixed him.
She refused that fantasy.
People weren't rescue animals.
Declan changed because Declan decided to.
He had cut several illegal operations out of his organization. He had dismissed men who refused the new rules. More importantly, he had started separating legitimate Rossi businesses from the criminal empire he'd inherited.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Not perfectly.
But voluntarily.
Iris opened the bag.
“You remembered extra noodles.”
“I pay attention.”
“That quality was creepy when you researched my entire life.”
“I've apologized.”
“Twice.”
“Three times.”
“The second one didn't count.”
Declan smiled.
Then he placed something on the counter.
A key.
Iris stared at it.
“No.”
“You don't know what it is.”
“Every important disaster in my life recently has involved you putting something on a counter.”
“Fair.”
“What does it open?”
“My penthouse.”
Iris stared at him.
Declan raised a hand.
“Before you start—”
“I’m listening.”
He seemed surprised.
“Dangerous choice.”
“Talk.”
He pushed the key toward her.
“You don't have to use it.”
“Good.”
“You don't have to return it.”
“Interesting.”
“You can come whenever you want.”
“And leave whenever I want?”
“Yes.”
“No guards following me?”
“If you tell them not to.”
“No tracking my phone?”
“Never again.”
Iris studied him.
“Why?”
Declan's expression became serious.
“Because I spent most of my life believing keeping people close meant making sure they couldn't leave.”
Iris said nothing.
“My father ruled that way. My grandfather ruled that way. Every man who taught me power taught me the same lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“If someone can leave, eventually they will.”
Iris leaned against the counter.
“And what did you learn?”
“That locking a door doesn't make someone stay.”
He pushed the key closer.
“If you ever come through my door, I want it to be because you chose to.”
Iris picked up the key.
Declan waited.
She put it in her pocket.
His eyebrows rose.
“Don't look so pleased.”
“I'm trying not to.”
“You're failing.”
“I've been told I'm less cooperative than most dogs.”
Iris laughed.
“Sit.”
Declan pulled out a chair.
“Very funny.”
They ate dinner at the reception desk.
Halfway through, Declan's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Marco.
Iris nodded.
“Answer it.”
Declan did.
“What?”
Marco's voice was loud enough for Iris to hear.
“We have a problem at Pier Seven.”
Declan stood.
“What kind?”
“Old Rossi crew. They don't like the changes.”
Declan's expression became familiar.
Cold.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
“I'll handle it.”
He hung up.
Iris watched him put on his coat.
“Declan.”
He stopped.
“Don't become the old version of yourself because it's easier.”
His eyes met hers.
“You worried about me?”
“I'm worried about having to stitch you a third time.”
“That's almost romantic.”
“Get out.”
He smiled and walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Iris?”
“What?”
“You know you don't owe me anything.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He left.
Iris touched the key in her pocket.
May you like
For the first time, it didn't feel like a lock.
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