Chapter 8: The Devil’s Bargain

The Volkov CEO, Dmitri Volkov, didn’t move as I descended the marble steps. He was a monolith in a tailored charcoal suit, his pale blue eyes fixed on me with the unnerving stillness of a predator who had already calculated every possible outcome. Behind him, two hulking guards stood like stone sentinels, their hands clasped in front of them, their faces blank.

My heels clicked against the floor, each step a countdown to my own annihilation. The letter from my father—the one outlining the merger that would crush the Volkov empire—was burning a hole in my jacket pocket. It was the only weapon I had, and I’d planned to use it to pit the Volkovs against the Moretti family. But now, seeing Dmitri’s smirk, that plan felt like a fool’s gambit.

“Miss Thorne,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the foyer. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet.”

“I don’t get cold feet,” I replied, stopping a few paces away from him. “I get even.”

His lips twitched. “Bold words for a woman standing alone in my territory.”

I forced a smile, the kind I used when negotiating deals with men three times my age. “I’m not alone. I have information that could sink your entire operation. Or save it. Depends on how you play your cards.”

Dmitri tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he was about to solve. “You’re referring to your father’s little scheme, I presume. The one involving the Morettis and a shipping route through the Black Sea?”

My heart stuttered, but I kept my expression neutral. How the hell did he know about that? The letter had been sealed, encrypted, hidden in a safe deposit box that only I had access to. Unless…

“You’re wondering how I knew,” he said, stepping closer. His cologne—something dark and spicy—invaded my senses. “Let’s just say I have eyes everywhere. Including in your father’s inner circle.”

The ground beneath me shifted. If Dmitri already knew about the deal, then my leverage was gone. I had nothing left except the one truth I’d been hiding since the beginning.

“Then you also know about the proof I have,” I said, my voice steady despite the panic clawing at my throat. “Proof that your brother ordered the hit on my father five years ago.”

Dmitri’s smirk vanished. For the first time, I saw something dangerous flicker in his eyes—not anger, but respect. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I’ve done more than that. I’ve got the recording of the phone call, Dmitri. The one where your brother tells the shooter to make it look like a robbery. I’ve had it for three years, waiting for the perfect moment to use it.”

He was silent for a long moment. The guards shifted uncomfortably, but Dmitri didn’t move. “And what do you want for it?”

“I want my father’s company back. I want the Morettis to pay for bleeding it dry. And I want your brother to rot in hell.”

Dmitri laughed—a cold, humorless sound. “That’s a tall order, Miss Thorne. But I might be able to help you with one of those things.”

“Which one?”

He stepped closer, so close that I could see the faint scar that ran through his left eyebrow, a souvenir from a life I could only imagine. “The Morettis,” he whispered. “Because, you see, they’re planning to kill you tonight.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. I should have felt fear, but instead, a strange calm washed over me. I’d been running from the Morettis for months, always one step ahead. And now, standing in the lion’s den, I finally had the chance to stop running.

“Let them come,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “You have a death wish?”

“No. I have a plan.”

I pulled the letter from my pocket and held it up. “This isn’t just about the merger. It’s a map. The Morettis have a secret warehouse in the industrial district, and tonight, they’re moving a shipment of weapons worth ten million dollars. If we hit them there, we hit them where it hurts. They’ll be so focused on the loot they won’t see us coming.”

Dmitri stared at the letter, then at me. “You want me to go to war with the Morettis for you?”

“I want you to go to war with them for *yourself*. Because once they’re done with me, they’re coming for you. You know that.”

For a long, agonizing moment, he didn’t speak. I could feel the weight of my entire future pressing down on my shoulders, threatening to crush me. And then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—a genuine one this time, though it was no less dangerous.

“You’re either the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he said, “or the most foolish.”

“Maybe both.”

He extended his hand. “Deal.”

I hesitated. The moment I shook his hand, I would be tying myself to a man who had killed more people than I could count. But I had no other options. The Morettis were closing in, my father’s legacy was crumbling, and I was running out of time.

I took his hand. His grip was firm, warm, and surprisingly gentle.

“But remember, Miss Thorne,” he said, pulling me closer, “if you betray me, I’ll make the Morettis look merciful.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He released my hand and gestured toward a black SUV waiting at the curb. “Then let’s go. We have a warehouse to burn.”

As I climbed into the backseat beside him, my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:

*“You think you’re safe with him? You’re not. Volkov is the one who ordered the hit on your father. Not his brother.”*

My blood turned to ice. I looked at Dmitri, who was staring out the window, his profile sharp and unreadable. The text had to be a lie, a trap from the Morettis to make me doubt my new ally. But as the SUV pulled away into the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made a deal with the devil.

And I had no idea which devil was real.