The Devil's Bargain

Sienna POV

Pier 47 reeked of dead fish and rotting seaweed. The fog rolled off the water like ghost fingers, muffling every sound except the creak of old wood beneath my feet. I clutched my phone tighter, the camera app already open.

Stupid. This was so incredibly stupid.

"You came." Lucian's voice cut through the mist behind me.

I spun around. He emerged from the shadows like he'd materialized from thin air, wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket that probably cost more than my rent. Casual. Relaxed. Like we were meeting for coffee instead of... whatever this was.

"You said you'd tell me the truth."

"I said a lot of things." He stepped closer, and I fought the urge to back away. "But first, let's discuss your little photography hobby."

My mouth went dry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Show me the phone, Siena."

"No."

He laughed, low and dangerous. "No? You walk into my territory, alone, at midnight, and you tell me no?"

"This isn't your territory. It's a public pier."

"Everything in this city is my territory." His eyes glittered in the dim light. "The question is whether you're smart enough to understand that."

I raised my chin, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm educating you." He pulled out his own phone, swiping to a photo that made my blood freeze. It was me, sitting in my apartment, taken through my kitchen window. "Nice curtains, by the way. Yellow really suits you."

The bastard had been watching me. For how long?

"Delete that," I whispered.

"Why? It's just a photo. Like the one you took of me."

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. The smart thing would be to delete it. The safe thing. But as my thumb hovered over the screen, something inside me rebelled.

"You killed Tommy Ricci."

"Yes."

The simple admission hit me like a physical blow. I'd expected denials, lies, gaslighting. Not... honesty.

"Why?"

"Because he betrayed my family. Because he got my cousin killed. Because some crimes require justice, not courts."

"That's not justice. That's murder."

"In your world, maybe." He moved closer, backing me toward the pier's edge. "In mine, it's survival."

The water lapped against the pilings below us. One push, and I'd disappear just like Tommy Ricci. Another unsolved case. Another closed file.

"Please," I said, hating how small my voice sounded. "Please don't kill me."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

My mind raced. What could I possibly offer him that he didn't already have? Money? I was broke. Connections? I knew nobody. Silence? He could get that by throwing me in the harbor.

Then it hit me.

"Because I'm good at what I do."

He stopped moving. "What?"

"Information. I can find things other people can't. I can get into places, ask questions, make people trust me." The words tumbled out faster now, desperation making me bold. "You saw my work. Professor Martinez wouldn't have given me the assignment if I wasn't capable."

"You're trying to bargain for your life?"

"I'm trying to offer you something valuable."

He studied my face for a long moment. "What makes you think I need information?"

"Because you're here. Because you bothered to show up instead of just having me killed. Because whatever's happening in this city is bigger than Tommy Ricci, and you need someone who can dig without raising suspicions."

"And why would you help the man who murdered someone in front of you?"

"Because I want to live." I met his eyes, forcing myself not to look away. "And because maybe your version of justice is the only kind that works in this place."

A slow smile spread across his face. Not warm. Not reassuring. Predatory.

"Interesting proposal. But trust is earned, not negotiated."

"Then let me earn it."

"How?"

I pulled up the photo on my phone. His face in the alley, clear as day. With shaking fingers, I hit delete.

"There. It's gone."

"That was foolish."

"It was a gesture of good faith."

"It was evidence. Leverage. The only thing keeping you alive."

Panic clawed at my throat. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He stepped close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. "Now you have nothing to bargain with except your word. And your word means nothing to me."

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

His hand came up to touch my cheek, thumb tracing along my jawline. The gesture was almost tender, which made it infinitely more terrifying.

"Because you intrigue me, Siena Carter. You're scared, but you're still fighting. Still thinking. Most people would be begging and crying by now."

"Maybe I'm too stupid to know when I'm beaten."

"Or maybe you're exactly what I need."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "For information gathering?"

"Among other things." His thumb moved to trace my lower lip, and I hated that my body responded to the touch. "Tell me, what do you know about the Torrino family?"

The name sent ice through my veins. Everyone in the city knew about the Torrinos. The Romano family's biggest rivals. Their longest war.

"They're your enemies."

"They're everyone's enemies. But lately, they've been moving product through the university. Using students as runners, dealers, mules." His hand dropped to my throat, fingers resting lightly against my pulse. "I need to know who. I need to know how. And I need someone who can walk through those halls without raising suspicions."

"You want me to spy on my classmates."

"I want you to do what journalists do. Ask questions. Follow leads. Find the truth."

"And if I say no?"

His fingers tightened slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me how fragile I was. How easily he could end this.

"You won't say no."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're curious. Because you want the story. And because..." He leaned closer, lips almost brushing my ear. "You're already mine."

The possessiveness in his voice should have terrified me. Instead, it sent heat racing through my veins.

"I'm not yours."

"Aren't you?" He pulled back to look at me, those green eyes holding mine captive. "You came here tonight. You deleted the photo. You offered to work for me. If that's not surrender, what is?"

"It's survival."

"Same thing, in my world."

I wanted to argue, to deny it, to maintain some shred of dignity. But he was right, and we both knew it. The moment I'd made that phone call, I'd crossed a line I couldn't uncross.

"What do you want me to do?"

His smile was sharp enough to cut. "Everything I tell you to do. When I tell you to do it. Without questions."

"And in return?"

"You stay alive. You get your story. And you discover just how deep this city's corruption really goes."

He stepped back, pulling a small device from his pocket. A phone. Sleek, expensive, definitely not from any store I could afford.

"Burner phone. My number's already programmed. When you find something, you call me immediately. No exceptions."

I took the phone with numb fingers. "What if I can't find anything?"

"Then you'd better hope I'm feeling merciful." He turned to walk away, then paused. "Oh, and Siena? If you even think about going to the police or trying to run..."

"You'll kill me. I get it."

"No." He looked back over his shoulder, and the promise in his eyes made my blood freeze. "I'll make you wish I had.”