Chapter 2 - The Scent of Treason
Before Declan could answer, the double doors of the kitchen burst open again.
This time, the entry was loud, messy, and violent. Three men in cheap, loud tracksuits stepped into the prep area, their breathing heavy, their faces flushed with adrenaline and sweat. They smelled of cheap grease, stale beer, and the unmistakable, sour odor of fear-induced sweat.
"He's in here!" one of them shouted, pointing a finger toward the pass. "Declan! You think you can walk into our district and just—"
The man didn't finish his sentence.
In a movement so fast Sadie’s eyes could barely register it, Declan’s bodyguards moved. Two suppressed gunshots—soft, dull puffs of compressed air—echoed through the kitchen.
The two men in the back collapsed instantly, their bodies hitting the grease-slicked tile with heavy, hollow thuds. The third man froze, his eyes wide with a sudden, paralyzing terror as Marcus pressed the warm muzzle of a pistol directly beneath his chin.
The kitchen staff screamed, scrambling back against the dish pit and the prep stations like trapped animals. Chef Richard actually fell to his knees, his hands covering his head as he wept silently.
Only Sadie stood her ground. Her fingers were still locked in Declan’s grip, her body acting as a shield between him and the chaos of the kitchen.
Declan didn't even look at the dead men. His eyes remained locked on Sadie's face, watching the way her pupils dilated, the way her jaw clenched, but noting with a quiet appreciation that she didn't scream. She didn't run.
"You smell it, don't you?" Declan murmured, his voice a dark, intimate whisper amidst the quiet panic of the room.
"Ozone," she whispered back, her throat dry. "And copper. You didn't just get into a fight. You survived an ambush."
"Smart girl," Declan said, his grip on her hand finally releasing. He reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy, silver-plated revolver, laying it casually on her plating pass. "The Morellos think they can take my docks. They think because I came to this city alone, I am weak."
He stepped around the pass, his massive frame instantly eclipsing her. He reached out, his thumb catching a stray smear of flour on her cheek and brushing it away with a gentleness that felt entirely out of place in a room that smelled of fresh blood.
"The police will be here in five minutes," Declan said, his eyes scanning the back exit of the kitchen. "I need a way out that doesn't involve the main street."
Sadie looked at the dead men, then at Chef Richard, who was too busy praying to be of any help. She knew that if she helped Declan escape, she was crossing a line she could never walk back. She would no longer be a chef. She would be an accomplice to the most feared syndicate boss in the state.
But she also knew that if she let him get caught here, the Morellos would burn this restaurant to the ground to ensure there were no witnesses.
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"The bakery alley," Sadie said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Through the walk-in freezer. There’s a delivery chute that leads to the basement of the theater next door. They don't use it anymore."
Declan’s smile was small, sharp, and entirely lethal. "Lead the way, chef."
