Chapter 6 - Ronan Moretti’s One Rule
Six weeks later, Iris walked into Ronan’s office carrying two coffees.
Elias looked up.
“You realize people usually schedule appointments.”
“I brought caffeine.”
“Excellent argument.”
She pushed through Ronan’s door.
He was standing beside the windows in a charcoal suit, black shirt open at the collar. The tattoos along his neck and hand were visible.
“You’re late,” Iris said.
“For what?”
“Dinner.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to dinner.”
“You did.”
“When?”
“When I asked yesterday and you said, ‘We’ll see.’”
“That isn’t yes.”
“It wasn’t no.”
Ronan looked toward Elias.
“Help me.”
Elias immediately closed the door from the outside.
“Traitor,” Ronan muttered.
Iris handed him coffee.
Much had changed.
Sarno faced a long list of criminal charges based partly on financial evidence from Gregor’s records.
Gregor had surrendered through an attorney.
He and Iris had exchanged exactly two letters.
She wasn’t ready for more.
Maybe someday.
Maybe never.
The important part was that the decision belonged to her.
Ronan picked up his coat.
“Where are we eating?”
Iris smiled.
“So you are coming.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Sure.”
They took the elevator downstairs.
Outside, Ronan’s sedan waited.
Iris stopped.
“What?”
She looked at the car.
Then at him.
“The first time I saw that thing, I thought there was a fifty-percent chance I was making the worst decision of my life.”
“Only fifty?”
“I was having a difficult evening.”
Ronan smiled.
Actually smiled.
It transformed him.
Iris stared.
“You should do that more often.”
“Do what?”
“Look human.”
He opened the car door.
She didn’t move.
“Ronan.”
“Yes?”
“What are we doing?”
He became serious.
“Dinner.”
“You know what I mean.”
He released the door.
For several seconds, he considered his answer.
“I have one rule with you.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“You can always leave.”
Her humor faded.
Ronan continued.
“If we have dinner, you can leave. If you come to my apartment, you can leave. If this becomes something more, you can leave.”
Iris looked at him.
“And if I stay?”
His eyes held hers.
“Then I’ll know you chose to.”
She remembered that first night.
The freezing street.
Her bare feet.
Her desperate fingers gripping his coat.
She had asked a stranger to hold her because she needed her father to believe she belonged to someone stronger.
Now she understood the irony.
Ronan had never asked her to belong to him.
That was exactly why she wanted him.
Iris stepped closer.
“What if I have a rule too?”
“I’m listening.”
“No disappearing behind mafia-boss silence when you’re angry.”
“That’s extremely specific.”
“No deciding what I can handle.”
He sighed.
“That one seems unreasonable.”
“Ronan.”
“Fine.”
“And no pretending Elias is your friend just because you pay him.”
From beside the sedan, Elias said, “Thank you.”
Ronan stared at both of them.
“I regret introducing you.”
Iris laughed.
Then she reached for Ronan’s hand.
“Dinner?”
May you like
His fingers closed gently around hers.
“Dinner.”
