Chapter 3 - The Enemy at Declan’s Table
Daniel Mercer arrived at Hayes Global at 10:04 that morning wearing a charcoal suit and the expression of a man mildly inconvenienced by an unexpected meeting.
He never made it beyond the underground garage.
Two security men took his phone.
Marcus removed his weapon.
Then Declan stepped from behind a black SUV.
Daniel looked between them.
“What is this?”
Declan held out a photograph.
Emily Vale.
Daniel's face changed.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But Declan saw it.
“You know her.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Yes.”
“Your sister.”
“Yes.”
“For twelve years, you never told me.”
“She isn't part of our world.”
“She works in my building.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“What happened?”
Declan moved closer.
“My pregnant secretary is being poisoned.”
Daniel stared.
The words struck in stages.
“Sarah is pregnant?”
Declan watched him carefully.
Daniel looked genuinely stunned.
Then his gaze shifted.
“Poisoned?”
“Thallium and arsenic.”
“No.”
“Your sister entered the executive floor last night using your access credentials.”
Daniel's face drained.
“That is impossible.”
Declan handed him the tablet.
Daniel watched the footage.
His expression hardened.
“Emily.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I haven't seen her in three months.”
Declan grabbed Daniel's jacket and slammed him against the SUV.
Marcus remained still.
“You listed yourself as her emergency contact.”
“Because I'm her brother.”
“You gave her access to my company.”
“No.”
“She used your credentials.”
“I did not give them to her.”
Declan leaned closer.
“You expect me to believe she independently infiltrated my building, poisoned Sarah for weeks, stole your access credentials, and you knew nothing?”
“Yes.”
“Convince me.”
Daniel's jaw worked.
Then something unexpected appeared in his face.
Shame.
“My mother had an affair with Thomas Vale.”
Declan released him slightly.
“Your mother?”
Daniel nodded.
“My father never knew. Thomas did.”
“And Emily?”
“Thomas's daughter from his marriage. My half-sister.”
Declan understood.
Patrick Hayes had ordered Thomas Vale killed when Daniel and Declan were teenagers.
Daniel had later entered Declan's organization.
“Why work for me?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“You think I knew everything at eighteen?”
Declan said nothing.
“I knew Thomas's name. I knew my mother cried when he died. She told me the truth years later.”
“And you stayed.”
“Because you weren't Patrick.”
The answer landed harder than Declan expected.
Daniel continued.
“You took the organization from him. You changed rules. You stopped trafficking through Hayes ports. You ended half the operations he built.”
“And expanded the other half.”
“I never said you became a priest.”
Declan released his jacket.
Daniel straightened it.
“Emily never forgave the Hayes family,” Daniel said. “She believes your father destroyed her childhood.”
“He did.”
Daniel looked surprised.
Declan continued.
“That doesn't give her permission to murder Sarah.”
“No.”
“Or my child.”
Daniel's gaze snapped upward.
“It's yours?”
“Yes.”
Daniel stared at him.
Then something almost like disbelief passed across his face.
“Miami.”
Declan's silence answered.
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“This is bad.”
“You think?”
“If Emily knows Sarah is carrying a Hayes child, she isn't attacking Sarah because of Sarah.”
“I know.”
“She is erasing the next generation.”
Declan became still.
Daniel looked toward Marcus.
“Find her mother.”
“Already searching,” Marcus said.
Daniel turned back to Declan.
“I want to help.”
“You're staying here.”
“Declan—”
“Until I know you didn't assist her, you're staying here.”
“You really think I would poison Sarah?”
“I think fathers underestimate daughters, brothers underestimate sisters, and men die because they confuse loyalty with evidence.”
Daniel's eyes hardened.
“Twelve years.”
“One lie can outweigh twelve years.”
Daniel looked wounded.
Declan didn't apologize.
An hour later, Marcus discovered Emily's apartment empty.
Closets cleared.
Laptop gone.
Phone discarded.
But one thing remained.
A wall covered with newspaper clippings.
Patrick Hayes.
Hayes Syndicate.
Dock violence.
Union disappearances.
Then photographs of Declan.
And Sarah.
Pictures taken from outside Sarah's apartment.
From the parking garage.
From across the street from her obstetrician's clinic.
The oldest photograph was dated seven weeks earlier.
“She knew about the pregnancy,” Marcus said.
Declan's stomach twisted.
Sarah had entered the clinic alone.
Emily must have followed her.
Another photograph showed Sarah leaving with an ultrasound envelope pressed against her chest.
Beside it, written in black marker:
NO MORE HAYES HEIRS.
Declan ripped the photograph from the wall.
“Find her.”
Marcus nodded.
Then a forensic technician called from the kitchen.
“Sir?”
They entered.
Inside a cabinet were bottles of laboratory chemicals.
Receipts.
Protective gloves.
A notebook.
Declan opened it.
Dosage calculations.
Sarah's schedule.
Coffee times.
Water consumption.
Symptoms.
Emily had documented everything.
Week one: nausea.
Week two: weakness.
Week three: hair loss.
Week four: tremors.
At the bottom of the final page:
Fetus vulnerable. Increase dose gradually. Mother may collapse first.
Declan closed the notebook.
Marcus had seen men killed for far less than what appeared in Declan's eyes.
“Boss.”
“No.”
“Whatever you're thinking—”
“I said no.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don't want to know.”
Declan walked away.
Back at the hospital, Sarah was waiting.
When he entered, she immediately knew he had found something.
“You found her apartment.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She was responsible.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
Declan sat beside the bed.
“She tracked your appointments.”
“How long?”
“Seven weeks.”
Sarah touched her stomach.
“She knew before you did.”
“Yes.”
That hurt him.
Sarah whispered, “She wanted the baby dead.”
Declan's hand curled into a fist.
Sarah reached for it.
He looked down.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Become him.”
Declan's gaze rose.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“This is not the moment to defend Emily.”
“I am not defending her.”
“She poisoned you.”
“I know.”
“She tried to kill our child.”
“I know.”
“Then don't ask me for mercy.”
Sarah stared at him.
“I'm asking you not to lose whatever separates you from Patrick Hayes.”
Declan pulled his hand away.
“You think I'm better than him?”
“Yes.”
“That's your mistake.”
“No.”
Her voice strengthened.
“I've worked three feet from you for three years. I've watched you make terrible choices. I've watched men come into your office terrified and leave even more terrified.”
“Strong argument.”
“I've also seen you pay medical bills for employees without putting your name on the checks. I've seen you refuse shipments you knew involved women being exploited. I watched you fire a man for striking a warehouse worker.”
Declan looked away.
“You hide every decent thing you do because you think compassion makes you weak.”
“It does.”
“No. It makes you human.”
He stood.
“I don't have the luxury.”
“You're about to become a father.”
The sentence stopped him.
Sarah continued.
“What kind of father?”
Declan turned back.
Her eyes were wet.
“Our child will eventually ask who you are.”
He said nothing.
“What do you want me to say?”
The room became painfully quiet.
Declan had never considered morality in terms of a child looking at him.
He had considered law enforcement.
Rivals.
Profit.
Survival.
Never small eyes asking why people feared their last name.
Before he could answer, Marcus called.
“Boss, we found Emily.”
Declan stood immediately.
“Where?”
“South Boston.”
“Send location.”
“There is a complication.”
“What?”
“She called us.”
Declan frowned.
“What did she say?”
Marcus's voice lowered.
“She wants Sarah.”
Declan's expression went cold.
“She gets me.”
“She specifically said not you.”
“Then she gets nothing.”
Sarah listened.
Marcus continued.
“She says she has proof Daniel was involved.”
Declan looked toward Sarah.
Daniel.
“Proof of what?”
“She claims Daniel ordered the poisoning.”
Declan's jaw tightened.
“Where is she?”
“Old Vale Shipping warehouse.”
Declan knew it.
Patrick Hayes had seized the property after Thomas Vale died.
The building had sat abandoned for nearly two decades.
Emily had chosen the location intentionally.
“I'm going.”
Sarah sat upright.
“So am I.”
“No.”
“She asked for me.”
“No.”
“Declan.”
“No.”
“You cannot interrogate your way through every problem.”
“Yes, I can.”
“She may know whether anyone else was involved.”
“So can a chair and enough time.”
“Declan.”
He turned.
Sarah's expression was unwavering.
“If Daniel really participated, we need to know why.”
“You're staying here.”
She removed the monitor from her finger.
He stared.
“Put that back.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“Either I come protected, or I leave after you and call a taxi.”
Declan looked genuinely offended.
“You wouldn't.”
“You want to test me?”
They stared at each other.
Marcus remained silent on the phone.
Finally, Declan said, “Armored vehicle. Twelve men. You do exactly what I say.”
Sarah nodded.
“And you stay inside the car.”
“We'll discuss it.”
“That was not an invitation to negotiate.”
She smiled faintly.
“Welcome to parenthood.”
Forty minutes later, the convoy approached the abandoned warehouse.
Rain had stopped.
Fog rolled from the harbor.
Sarah sat beside Declan wearing a borrowed coat over hospital clothing.
His men surrounded the building.
Declan checked his weapon.
Sarah watched.
“If I tell you not to kill her—”
“Don't.”
“Declan.”
“I'm not promising something I may not keep.”
Before Sarah could reply, Marcus's voice came through the radio.
“Movement inside.”
Declan opened the door.
Then the lights inside the warehouse suddenly activated.
Every window glowed.
A speaker crackled overhead.
Emily's voice.
“Declan Hayes.”
Declan stepped forward.
Sarah remained inside the vehicle.
For now.
Emily continued.
“You came to the place where your family murdered mine.”
Declan stared at the warehouse.
“Come outside.”
A laugh echoed.
“You still give orders like your father.”
“I am not my father.”
“No. You're worse. He knew what he was.”
Declan's grip tightened.
Then Emily said the one thing that changed everything.
“Ask Daniel why he hired Sarah Mitchell.”
Declan froze.
Sarah heard it.
Emily continued.
“He didn't choose her because of her résumé.”
Sarah looked toward Declan.
“He chose her because he knew exactly who she was.”
The warehouse doors opened.
A single chair sat beneath a hanging light.
On it rested an old file.
Declan approached.
Emily was nowhere visible.
He opened the folder.
The first page contained Sarah's childhood photograph.
The second contained her father's name.
Michael Mitchell.
Declan recognized it.
His blood went cold.
Michael Mitchell had been another man murdered on Patrick Hayes's orders.
Sarah stepped out of the SUV behind him.
“Declan?”
He turned.
She saw her father's photograph in his hand.
Her face changed.
“My father?”
Declan couldn't answer.
For the first time, Sarah understood that her employment at Hayes Global might never have been accidental.
May you like
And the man she trusted enough to carry his child had known her father's name long before he ever learned hers.
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