2. Chapter 2 #2
“Now you have bigger problems than playing pretty attack dog for cartel vermin.” I chuckled, low and mean, because she needed to hear exactly where she stood.
“You’re one wrong move from landing on The Syndicate’s hit list, Isabella.
And you’re smart enough to know what happens to people who cross The Syndicate in this city. ”
She froze.
“Our city,” I added. “Not MS-13, Salvadoran rats who sell girls and murder for sport. Not corrupt politicians taking dirty money to bend the system for rich men who hide behind paperwork.”
For the first time, she didn’t have an answer.
Her gaze moved from the door to the broken phone, then to the narrow window before landing back on me.
This time, the movement wasn’t polished.
It was fast. Nervous. Her mind worked behind those eyes, measuring the room, the damage, me, and whatever tactic might keep her breathing.
She understood there was no way out and no one was coming to save her.
Good.
I wanted her to be intimidated.
At least, I thought I did.
But the fear looking back at me now wasn’t the controlled flash she’d shown before. This was real enough to make her reassess. Enough to make her rethink the ground she was standing on.
Then she changed.
One breath, she was furious, with her chin high and fire in her eyes. The next, her shoulders slumped, she chewed on her bottom lip, and her fingers tapped against her sleeve, betraying the nerves her face no longer tried to hide.
The transformation was so smooth it pissed me off.
Because I wasn’t sure if it was real.
“I get it,” she said quietly.
The softness in her voice didn’t belong in the same mouth that had called Xyst a dive.
I didn’t move.
She came around the desk slowly, as if sudden movements might get her killed. She stopped in front of it, next to me, but far enough to keep some distance between us. Then she leaned back against the edge, her palms gripping the wood on either side of her hips.
“You’re angry,” she said. “And you have reason to be.”
“Generous of you.”
“I’m serious.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
The welling tears caught me off guard.
“You have no idea who I am,” she said. “You can glare at me and threaten my life all you want. You’re not the first man to do it.”
Something tightened in my gut.
Fuck.
“I was hired to do a job,” she continued. “That’s it. Sarah Farris wasn’t my idea. I didn’t build the City’s case. I didn’t choose which files landed on my desk. I was given orders, Mr. Byrnes, and in my world, saying no has consequences. Like I said, it wasn’t personal.”
“A job that involved walking into my club with NYPD and a folder of legal threats.”
“Yes.”
“Nothing personal?”
Her mouth twisted, but it was only a half-smile. “Do men like you ever believe that?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t waste either of our time pretending you will.”
I watched her fingers tighten on the desk’s edge, her knuckles turning white.
“You threatened my club,” I said.
“I know.”
“You threatened my family.”
Her breath caught at that.
“That makes it personal,” I growled. “When you kick a dog, you don’t get to complain because he bites.”
“I didn’t kick a dog, Mr. Byrnes.” Her voice thinned, but she held my gaze. “I stepped into a room full of wolves because someone ordered me to.”
My anger shifted, making space for something I didn’t want to feel.
A thread of guilt I should’ve cut before it tied a knot in my conscience.
I stepped directly in front of her and caught her chin between my fingers again.
This time, she didn’t jerk away.
“So, what are you going to do now, Isabella?”
Her lashes lowered. When she looked back up, the tears still clung there, unshed.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “That’s the problem.”
She didn’t shift her demeanor or cover up her thoughts.
“I’m between a rock and a hard place,” she said. “You came here to threaten me. The men behind that folder will do worse if I fail them.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
I hated that I heard it.
She swallowed hard.
“What should I do?”
For a second, I didn’t answer.
The smart move was to tell her to withdraw the filings, crawl back to whatever gutter Delgado kept her in, and to pray The Syndicate forgot her name.
But she was standing in front of me with my fingers still on her chin and tears caught on the rim of those big brown eyes, looking less like the arrogant attorney who’d walked into Xyst and more like a woman who’d realized every exit led to a different kind of monster.
I let go of her.
“You disappear,” I said. “Tonight, if you’re smart. Go somewhere Delgado won’t look. Somewhere quiet. Simple. Find a man who doesn’t make your life hell. Maybe have a few kids. Grow old without cartel filth or city politicians breathing down your neck.”
She stared at me.
Then she gave a dry laugh.
“You make that sound easy.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy.”
“No. You said it the way men like you say everything.” She pushed off the desk and lifted herself onto the surface, her skirt riding high on her thighs in a way that had my body paying attention before my brain could tell it not to fucking react.
“Like all a woman has to do is decide to be free, and the world politely gets out of her way.”
Then she leaned back on her hands and looked up at me, all soft eyes and exposed throat, like surrender was the only weapon she had left.
“So that’s it, then?” she asked. “I’m just fucked. Another woman rich men use until I become inconvenient.”
The accusation landed harder than it should have.
I didn’t trust her. But I understood being useful to powerful men. I understood being pushed into wars that started long before my name was attached to them.
“You got yourself into this,” I said.
“Did I?” she asked quietly.
My anger should’ve held.
It didn’t, and I hated myself for that.
This was supposed to be simple. Walk in, threaten the smartass city attorney, make sure she understood Xyst was not a club she could fuck with, then leave.
Instead, I was standing in a small government office with a woman who might be lying through her teeth, might be trapped by one of the worst men alive, and might be both at the same time.
“Are you related to Ciro Delgado?” I blurted, having a sudden need to know.
Her lashes lowered, her eyes skimming over her lap.
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m good at complicated.” I stepped closer. “Try me. Are you his daughter?”
Her chin dipped, and she shook her head. “Only on paper.”
“What does that mean?”
She drew in a breath, choosing her words carefully. She looked past me toward the broken phone on the floor, then back to my face.
“Ciro was a client at the firm where I interned. A big one. The kind partners clear their calendars for.” Her mouth tightened. “He came in for a meeting, and when I introduced myself, he changed.”
“Changed how?”
“When I told him my name was Isabella, he looked at me like the name unlocked something ugly in his head. As though I’d stopped being an intern and become an opportunity.
” She sat up and rubbed her palms over her skirt.
“The name caught his attention. I didn’t know if he had a wife, daughter, sister, dead lover—whatever.
But the name meant something to him, and from that moment on, his attention was focused on me.
Not in a normal way. Not grief, not affection.
Interest. The kind that makes your skin want to crawl off your body. ”
I said nothing, so she kept going.
“From that second on, he barely cared about the deal. He stopped looking at the documents. He stopped listening to the partners and only wanted to speak with me.”
“And the partners?”
“They acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.” Her mouth twisted. “They did nothing. A cartel client focused solely on the intern throughout an entire meeting, and no one in that room blinked.”
“What kind of questions did he ask you?”
“Where I grew up. Whether my parents were alive. Whether I spoke Spanish at home. Whether I had brothers. A boyfriend. If I went to church. If I was a good Catholic girl.” Her gaze slipped away. “He asked about my grades, my school, my plans. He wanted to know everything.”
My jaw tightened.
“I left as soon as that meeting ended. I didn’t wait around to shake hands. I got out of there as fast as I could.”
“But it didn’t end there?” I asked.
“No.” Her voice thinned. “The next day, he came back.”
I watched her face.