Page 11
“You have no right to access private information.”
“Neither did you when you chose to go after Xyst with a fairy tale dressed up as legal enforcement.”
“It isn’t a fairy tale.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then explain why the assault wasn’t in the original complaint last May.” I leaned over the desk again, forcing her to look up at me. “We knew about the fake-ID kid. We knew he got drunk, got stupid, and put hands on a cop. That was handled. But a sexual assault tied to Xyst? No. That wouldn’t have stayed buried. Not in my club. If a woman had been hurt, that wouldn’t have come to the surface almost eight months later. That would’ve been blood on the floor that night.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she stewed over my words.
“Nothing?” I finally asked. “No righteous speech? No victim statement you want to wave at me?”
“You think because you own a nightclub and a few men with badges who know when to look away, you get to decide what happened?”
“No, love. I’m responsible for that nightclub, our reputation, and every patron who walks through the door. And I know the difference between an actual crime and a manufactured one.”
She let out a quiet, contemptuous laugh. “That’s supposed to convince me…supposed to mean something coming from you?”
“No. It’s supposed to educate you.” I straightened. “We don’t hurt women in Xyst. We don’t serve girls up to rich men. We don’t let drunk boys put hands on anyone and brag about it later. If a woman had been hurt inside my club or because of my club, we would’ve dealt with it appropriately.”
The office fell silent.
Then Isabella leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and gathering the pieces of the city-attorney mask around her like armor.
“That’s very dramatic.”
“It’s true.”
“You can tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, Mr. Byrnes, but the City has cause. The State Liquor Authority has cause. Sarah Farris has cause. Your club has been on the edge for a long time.”
“You mean Xyst has been in your boss’s way for a long time?”
She frowned and shook her head. “If powerful men insist on building empires in public, they shouldn’t be surprised when someone starts checking the foundation.”
I studied her.
She didn’t flinch under my scrutiny, which should’ve impressed me, but it didn’t.
Her anger looked real. Her arrogance did too. But the fear beneath—when it appeared—had been too controlled and had vanished too fast.
I’d long known that a person’s eyes were the windows to their soul, and hers held secrets. Every time I got close to the truth, they shifted like pools of black mercury. But there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty—eyes never lie, and hers kept changing their story.
It was a red flag, one I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to move away from or charge straight toward.
My gaze cut from her eyes to scan the government office around us. “You don’t belong in this job,” I huffed.
Her expression didn’t change, but her shoulders tightened.
“You belong in corporate law, making obscene money helping rich men move dirty money from one place to the next. You don’t leave that kind of opportunity to play junior city crusader unless someone puts you there.”
“I chose public service.”
I laughed.
She flinched.
