DEVIL’S AND DEAL’S

The world tilted.

Or maybe that was just me, trying to process the words that had just come out of Dante Russo's mouth.

Marry me.

I pulled back, putting distance between us even though we were still moving to the music. Still playing the part of two strangers making polite conversation on a dance floor.

"You've lost your mind," I said quietly.

"Probably." His grip on my waist tightened not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me he wasn't letting go. "But that doesn't make me wrong."

"I am not marrying you."

"You will." He said it like a fact. Like gravity. Like something that had already happened and we were just waiting for me to catch up. "Because in about thirty seconds, you're going to realize you don't have a choice."

My heart was racing now, adrenaline flooding my system the way it used to when I heard gunshots in the distance. Fight or flight. Survival mode.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning." His eyes never left mine. "The man in the gray suit. Three o'clock. Don't look directly at him."

Every instinct screamed at me to turn my head, but I'd learned years ago to trust my gut over my curiosity. So I waited, let Dante spin me in the dance, and caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye.

Gray suit. Hard looking guy. Expensive watch. Face I didn't recognize.

But the way he was looking at me cold, calculating, like he was measuring me for a coffin that I recognized just fine.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"Vincent Carozza's man." Dante's voice was flat. Emotionless. "He's been watching you since you walked in. And if I had to guess, he's already called in your location."

Vincent Carozza.

The name hit me like a fist to the chest.

My godfather. The man who'd held me at my christening, who'd been at every birthday party, every family dinner. The man my father had trusted more than anyone in the world.

The man I'd spent seven years trying to prove had murdered my entire family.

"You're lying," I said, but my voice shook.

"Am I?" Dante's expression didn't change. "Then why did you go pale the second I said his name? Why are your hands trembling? Why do you look like you're about to run?"

I wasn't trembling.

Except I was.

Damn it.

"How do you know Vincent?" I demanded.

"Everyone knows Vincent. He is a powerful man. He absorbed your father's territory after the Morettis fell. Consolidated power. Became untouchable." Dante leaned closer, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. "But here's what most people don't know he's been looking for you. Hunting for any sign that Marco Moretti's daughter survived. And three weeks ago, someone matching your description was spotted in Milan."

My blood ran cold.

Milan. I'd been there exactly three weeks ago, meeting with one of my father's old contacts. I'd been so careful. Changed hotels every night. Used cash. Avoided cameras. I thought i had disguised well enough.

Apparently not careful enough.

"If Vincent knows I'm alive..."

"Then you're already dead," Dante finished. "Unless you have someone powerful enough to protect you. Someone with the resources to keep you hidden and the reputation to make people think twice before coming after what's his."

"And that someone is you."

"That someone is me."

The song was ending. Couples around us were pulling apart, applauding politely. We were running out of time.

"Why?" I asked. The question that mattered most. "Why would you help me? After everything I did to you..."

"I'm not helping you." His smile was sharp enough to cut. "I'm helping myself. I need a wife, Aria. Someone presentable. Someone with the right connections and the right last name. Someone who won't ask too many questions about how I made my fortune."

"You could marry anyone."

"But I don't trust anyone." He released me then, stepping back, putting proper distance between us like we really were just strangers who'd shared a dance. "Except you."

I almost laughed. "You don't trust me. You hate me."

"I do." Something flickered across his face pain, maybe, buried under layers of ice. "But I also know you. I know you'd never risk your son."

The world stopped spinning.

My son.

Luca.

The air left my lungs in a rush. "How..."

"Did I know about the boy?" Dante's eyes were merciless. "I'm a very thorough man, tesoro. When Elena Sinclair appeared on my radar six months ago, I did what I always do...I investigated. Bank accounts. Travel records. Associates." He paused. "Pediatric records from a clinic in Lagos. A child. Six years old. No father listed."

Hmmm questionable..

Oh God.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Oh my God!!

"You've been watching me for six months?"

"I've been watching you for seven years." The admission was casual. Devastating. "The second you disappeared, I started looking. It took time you covered your tracks well but I always knew you weren't dead. People like you don't die quietly, Aria. You burn too bright."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but stand there while my carefully constructed world crumbled around me.

He knew about Luca.

He'd known for months.

"Does he..." I couldn't finish the question. Couldn't force the words out.

"Does he know the boy is mine?" Dante's voice was soft. Dangerous. "No. Not yet. The DNA test I ordered is still processing. But we both know what it's going to say, don't we?"

I wanted to lie. Wanted to deny it. Wanted to do anything except confirm what he already knew.

But I'd learned the hard way that lies only bought you time they never actually saved you.

"Yes," I whispered.

Something cracked in his expression. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to see the man he used to be the soldier who'd loved me, who'd held me like I was something precious, who'd promised me forever in a voice rough with emotion.

Then the ice slammed back into place.

"Then we understand each other." He pulled a business card from his pocket, pressed it into my hand. "My penthouse. Tomorrow. Nine a.m. We'll discuss terms."

"And if I don't come?"

He leaned in one last time. Close enough that I could smell his cologne something dark and expensive that made my traitorous body remember things it had no business remembering.

"Then I'll come to you," he murmured against my ear. "And trust me, Aria you don't want me showing up at whatever safehouse you're keeping my son in. I tend to make an impression."

He pulled back. Smiled. The kind of smile that belonged in nightmares.

"Sleep well, tesoro."

Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he'd never been there at all.

Leaving me standing alone on an empty dance floor, holding a business card that felt like a contract signed in blood.

Behind me, the man in the gray suit was talking on his phone. Eyes still locked on me.

Vincent knew I was here.

Dante knew about Luca.

And I was trapped between two monsters, neither of whom would hesitate to destroy me if it served their purpose.

I looked down at the card in my hand. Heavy stock. Golden Embossed lettering.

DANTE RUSSO

RUSSO GLOBAL ENTERPRISES

And handwritten on the back, in bold black ink:

Don't be late. Our son is counting on you.