Chapter 4 - The First Rule Was No More LiesThe kiss lasted only a few seconds.
Audrey ended it first.
Not because she regretted it.
That was what frightened her.
She stepped backward until the backs of her knees touched the cheap secondhand sofa in her tiny living room.
Declan remained where he was.
Water dripped from his shirt onto the wooden floor.
Neither of them spoke.
Four years of history stood between them like another person.
Audrey touched her lips.
Declan watched the movement.
Something hungry appeared in his eyes.
Then he deliberately looked away.
That restraint mattered.
Once, Declan Mercer would have interpreted hesitation as weakness.
Tonight, he treated it as a boundary.
Audrey walked into the kitchenette.
“You’re getting water everywhere.”
Declan glanced down.
“I noticed.”
“There are towels under the sink.”
He stared at her.
Audrey raised an eyebrow.
“You know what towels are, right?”
A faint expression touched his mouth.
“Maria asked me something similar about a stapler yesterday.”
Audrey laughed before she could stop herself.
Declan went still.
He always did that when she laughed.
As though the sound was rare enough to preserve.
“Don’t,” Audrey said.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I just performed a miracle.”
“You laughed.”
“I laugh.”
“Not around me.”
“Maybe because you spent four years being terrifying.”
“That seems fair.”
Audrey handed him a towel.
He dried his hair.
The sight was so unexpectedly ordinary that it unsettled her more than the kiss had.
Declan Mercer had ordered men beaten.
He had destroyed businesses.
He had terrified politicians.
And now he stood in her kitchen rubbing rainwater from his hair with a towel that had cartoon strawberries printed on it.
Audrey had bought the towels because they were discounted.
Declan noticed the design.
He looked at her.
She pointed a warning finger.
“Say nothing.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You absolutely were.”
“I value my life.”
Audrey almost laughed again.
Then the humor faded.
Because this was dangerous.
Not Declan.
Not physically.
This.
The softness.
The possibility.
The temptation to pretend four years could be repaired by coffee, apologies, and a kiss in a warm apartment.
Audrey folded her arms.
“We need rules.”
Declan dropped the towel onto a chair.
“All right.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t say that like you’re agreeing to a contract you already intend to renegotiate.”
“I’m listening.”
Audrey studied him.
“No surveillance.”
His expression changed.
“No following me.”
A pause.
“No checking my phone records.”
Another pause.
“No asking Gideon where I’ve been.”
Declan said nothing.
Audrey’s eyes narrowed.
“You already did that?”
“Once.”
“Declan.”
“I wanted to know if you were safe.”
“You wanted to know where I was.”
“Yes.”
“That stops.”
His jaw tightened.
Audrey recognized the movement immediately.
For years, that tiny contraction had warned her that someone was about to have a very bad afternoon.
Now she refused to fear it.
“If you cannot do that,” she said, “leave.”
Declan looked toward the door.
Then back at her.
“All right.”
“And you don’t interfere with my job.”
“I don’t like that shop.”
“You don’t have to.”
“The locks are terrible.”
“Not your problem.”
“The alley behind it has no cameras.”
“Still not your problem.”
“The owner is seventy-three years old.”
“Seventy-four.”
“That does not improve my argument.”
Audrey sighed.
“You see what you’re doing?”
Declan went silent.
“You’re already looking for reasons to take control.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I protected myself for four years.”
“From everyone except me.”
The words landed heavily.
Declan did not look away.
Audrey’s anger weakened.
Not disappeared.
But weakened.
“That,” she said quietly, “is exactly why you don’t get to decide what protection looks like anymore.”
Declan nodded once.
“Understood.”
“One more rule.”
“Name it.”
“No lies.”
His face became unreadable.
Audrey noticed.
Of all the rules, that one frightened him.
Interesting.
“If you’re doing something dangerous, you tell me.”
“Audrey—”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“If we are actually trying this, I will not sit here wondering whether the man I’m kissing is ordering someone murdered while I’m cataloging antique clocks.”
Declan’s eyes hardened.
“My world isn’t simple.”
“I know.”
“There are things you are safer not knowing.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a lie wearing an expensive suit.”
His mouth twitched.
She did not smile.
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Declan walked toward the window.
The rain distorted the city lights.
For several seconds, he stared outside.
Then he said something Audrey had not expected.
“I’m trying to get out.”
She stopped breathing.
“Out of what?”
Declan turned.
“The part of my business you hate.”
Audrey stared.
“You mean the criminal part?”
“Yes.”
“You’re serious?”
“I started six weeks ago.”
Six weeks.
Before the kiss.
Before the bench became comfortable.
Before she invited him inside.
“Why?”
Declan looked at her.
“Because I realized something.”
“What?”
“If I kept living the way I was living, eventually you would ask me what I did that day.”
His voice was calm.
“And I would have two choices.”
“Lie to you.”
“Or tell you something that would make you never want to see me again.”
Audrey’s throat tightened.
“So you started dismantling everything?”
“Not everything.”
“Mercer Holdings has legitimate divisions.”
“Shipping.”
“Real estate.”
“Construction.”
“Technology.”
“Those stay.”
“The laundering operations are being separated.”
“The protection businesses are being closed.”
“I stopped paying three city officials.”
Audrey blinked.
“You stopped bribing politicians?”
“One senator seemed personally offended.”
Despite herself, Audrey smiled.
Declan continued.
“The weapons routes are gone.”
Her smile vanished.
“You had weapons routes?”
“You asked for honesty.”
“God.”
Audrey rubbed her forehead.
“I’m beginning to regret that.”
“You should.”
She looked at him sharply.
Declan’s expression remained serious.
“The problem is that exiting a business like mine creates enemies.”
Audrey lowered her hand.
“What kind of enemies?”
“The kind who preferred me when I was predictable.”
A cold sensation moved along her spine.
“Who?”
Declan hesitated.
“No lies.”
He exhaled.
“Victor Sloane.”
The name meant nothing to Audrey.
Her expression must have shown it.
“He controls most of the eastern freight corridor,” Declan explained.
“Smuggling?”
“Yes.”
“Drugs?”
“Yes.”
“People?”
Declan’s face changed.
“No.”
“You sound very certain.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I killed the last man who suggested we move women through my docks.”
Audrey stared at him.
There it was.
The contradiction that was Declan Mercer.
A moral line drawn through a criminal empire.
Violence used to prevent another kind of violence.
It did not make him good.
But it made him more complicated than the monster she had spent years imagining.
“Sloane wants access to your docks?”
“He wants everything.”
“And you said no.”
“I said several things.”
“Were any of them threats?”
Declan looked almost offended.
“Obviously.”
“Declan.”
“I’m improving.”
“Apparently not quickly enough.”
He walked back toward her.
Stopped at a respectful distance.
“Sloane knows I’m restructuring.”
“He thinks it makes me weak.”
“Does it?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Then Declan reconsidered.
“Yes.”
Audrey raised her eyebrows.
“That sounded painful.”
“It was.”
“Why does it make you weak?”
“Because fear is efficient.”
His voice lowered.
“If a man believes I’ll kill him, negotiations take five minutes.”
“If he knows I’m trying not to, negotiations become complicated.”
“Welcome to civilization.”
“I don’t care for it.”
Audrey laughed softly.
Then she saw something behind his eyes.
Something darker.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Declan froze.
“No lies.”
He looked at the floor.
Then at her.
“Sloane knows about you.”
The room changed.
Audrey felt it instantly.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You followed me.”
“Yes.”
“Could he have followed you?”
“Yes.”
Anger rose fast.
“You brought this to me?”
“Audrey—”
“You came to my workplace.”
“I know.”
“You came to my apartment.”
“I know.”
“You knew you had enemies and you still—”
“I didn’t know Sloane was watching until yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
She stared at him.
“And you waited until now to tell me?”
“I was going to handle it.”
“That violates the rule we established thirty seconds ago.”
“The rule didn’t exist yesterday.”
“That is the most lawyer-like criminal answer I have ever heard.”
Declan’s voice sharpened.
“I’m telling you now.”
“Because I forced you.”
“Yes.”
The honesty stopped her.
Declan stepped back.
“I’m bad at this.”
Audrey stared.
“I am trying to learn.”
His voice was quieter.
“But I will make mistakes.”
“Large ones.”
“Possibly catastrophic ones.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
Audrey walked toward the window.
She needed space.
Below, headlights moved through the rain.
Her freedom had lasted only months.
Now the old world was reaching toward her again.
She hated that.
More than fear, she felt rage.
“What does Sloane know?”
“Your name.”
“My address?”
“I don’t know.”
“My father?”
“I don’t know.”
Audrey turned.
Declan’s face had become stone.
“My father.”
“I already increased security at the care facility.”
“You what?”
“Discreetly.”
“No.”
“Audrey.”
“No.”
She crossed the room.
“You do not get to make decisions about him without asking me.”
“He could be a target.”
“Then you tell me that and we decide together.”
“Together.”
Declan repeated the word.
As if it belonged to a foreign language.
“Yes.”
Audrey stepped directly in front of him.
“You keep saying you want to be different.”
“Then be different.”
“Don’t protect me by taking away my choices.”
“Give me the information.”
“Let me choose.”
Declan looked down at her.
Every instinct in him resisted.
She could see it.
He wanted control because control felt like safety.
But finally he nodded.
“Together.”
“Good.”
“I still think the security should stay.”
Audrey sighed.
“Of course you do.”
“Can we discuss it?”
That surprised her.
Not decide.
Discuss.
“Yes.”
They did.
For almost an hour.
Audrey agreed to two plainclothes guards at her father’s facility.
She refused guards for herself.
Declan argued.
Audrey refused again.
Eventually they compromised on a panic button connected directly to Gideon.
Declan wanted GPS tracking.
Audrey threatened to throw him into the hallway.
The GPS idea disappeared.
By 11:30, the rain had slowed.
Declan stood at the door.
“You’re leaving?”
Audrey asked.
He looked confused.
“You invited me for coffee.”
“You kissed me.”
“That was before the rules.”
Audrey leaned against the doorframe.
“You could stay.”
Declan’s expression changed.
She saw desire.
Then caution.
“Are you sure?”
That question mattered more than he understood.
“Yes.”
He stepped closer.
Audrey placed a hand on his chest.
“Stay on the couch.”
Declan looked at the tiny sofa.
He was six-foot-three.
The sofa appeared designed for a medium-sized dog.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
He removed his shoes.
Lay down.
His feet extended over the armrest.
Audrey handed him a blanket.
At the bedroom doorway, she stopped.
“Declan?”
“Yes?”
“No one has ever asked me if I was sure before.”
He stared at her.
Audrey swallowed.
“Not in a way that mattered.”
Declan sat upright.
His face became dangerous.
Not toward her.
Toward every invisible person who had ever hurt her.
Audrey pointed at him.
“No violence.”
His jaw clenched.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking very loudly.”
He lay back.
“Good night, Audrey.”
“Good night.”
She closed the bedroom door.
At 3:17 a.m., Audrey woke to the sound of Declan’s phone vibrating.
She stepped into the living room.
He was already standing.
Fully awake.
The softness was gone.
The old Declan had returned.
He listened to Gideon for approximately fifteen seconds.
Then his face emptied.
“What happened?” Audrey asked.
Declan looked at her.
The rule existed now.
No lies.
So he told her.
“Someone set fire to Warehouse Twelve.”
Audrey’s stomach tightened.
“Anyone hurt?”
“Three men.”
“Dead?”
“One.”
Silence.
Declan picked up his shoes.
“Sloane?”
“I don’t know.”
But Audrey knew from his expression that he did.
Declan reached the door.
“Wait.”
He turned.
Audrey approached him.
“Remember the terms.”
His gray eyes held hers.
“No lies.”
“No control.”
“No unnecessary violence.”
His expression hardened.
“He killed one of my men.”
“I know.”
Audrey’s voice softened.
“But if you become the old Declan every time someone gives you a reason, then the old Declan never actually disappeared.”
For a moment he said nothing.
Then he nodded.
“I’ll call you.”
“When?”
“When I know what happened.”
“Not twelve hours later.”
“Immediately.”
He opened the door.
Audrey caught his hand.
Declan looked down.
It was the first time she had reached for him when he was leaving.
“Come back,” she said.
Something in his face broke open.
Not weakness.
Something far more dangerous.
Hope.
“I will.”
Then he left.
At 5:42 a.m., Audrey’s phone rang.
Declan.
She answered immediately.
“Tell me.”
“The fire was deliberate.”
“Sloane?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“He left something.”
Audrey sat upright in bed.
“What?”
Declan was silent for one second too long.
“Declan.”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
Her blood went cold.
“Where?”
“Leaving the antique shop yesterday.”
Audrey closed her eyes.
Then Declan spoke again.
His voice was terrifyingly calm.
“There was a message written across it.”
“What did it say?”
Another pause.
This time, he did not hide the truth.
“It said: Every king has something he can’t afford to lose.”
Audrey stared into the darkness.
She understood immediately.
May you like
The war was no longer outside her door.
It had learned her name.
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