A DEAL WITH THE BOSSY BILLIONAIRE

Trapped

Nolan's POV

The drive back to Chandler's Hotel felt like a journey through a maze of thoughts, each turn more twisted than the last. My mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. Callu was alive—alive and hell-bent on making my life a living nightmare. And now, he wanted me to set up a meeting with "La Fea," the Queen of Arizona.

My hands gripped the steering wheel as I replayed the encounter over and over in my head. I couldn't believe how quickly things had spiraled out of control. I was already neck-deep in trouble with Sienna, and now Callu had resurfaced, demanding the impossible. I had no idea who this La Fea was or how I could possibly get in touch with her. But one thing was clear: if I didn’t find a way to pull this off, Callu would make good on his threat.

I pulled into the parking lot of Chandler's Hotel, parking far from the entrance to avoid drawing attention. I needed time to think, to figure out my next move. The hotel's neon sign flickered above me, casting an eerie glow over the lot. It was almost poetic, how this place seemed to mirror the chaotic mess my life had become.

I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The smell of the desert night air was sharp, almost cleansing, but it did little to wash away the guilt and fear gnawing at my insides.

As I entered the hotel, I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact with the staff. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or have them see the turmoil on my face. I just needed to get to my room and figure out what the hell I was going to do.

The elevator ride up felt like it took forever, each second stretching into an eternity. When I finally reached my floor, I practically sprinted to my room, fumbling with the key card before finally getting the door open. Once inside, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor.

I was trapped—trapped between two worlds that I wanted no part of. On one side, Sienna and her twisted games. On the other, Callu, back from the dead and out for blood. And in the middle, me—a pawn in a game I didn’t even understand.

I got up and walked to the minibar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. I didn’t bother with a glass, just unscrewed the cap and took a long, burning swig. The alcohol did nothing to calm my nerves, but it was something to do, something to distract me from the crushing weight of the situation.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out and stared at the screen. It was a text from an unknown number.

**Unknown:** I know what you did to Sia. We need to talk. Now.

My heart skipped a beat. Who the hell was this? And how did they know about Sia? Was this another one of Sienna's tricks, or was it something worse? I couldn’t tell anymore—everyone seemed to have an agenda, and I was caught in the middle.

I hesitated before replying, trying to gauge if this was a trap or another layer to the already convoluted mess I was in.

**Me:** Who is this?

The reply came almost instantly.

**Unknown:** Someone who can help you. Meet me at the rooftop bar in 15 minutes. Come alone.

I stared at the message, my mind racing. This could be a setup, but I didn’t have many options left. If there was even a chance this person could help, I had to take it.

I grabbed my jacket and headed out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest. The walk to the rooftop bar felt like a death march. I had no idea who I was about to meet, but I knew I had to keep my wits about me. This could be the break I needed—or it could be the end of the line.

When I reached the rooftop, the cool night air hit me like a slap in the face. The bar was mostly empty, with just a few scattered patrons nursing drinks. I scanned the area, looking for anyone who might be my contact. My eyes finally settled on a figure sitting alone at the far end, shrouded in shadows.

I approached cautiously, my hand instinctively brushing against the knife in my jacket pocket. As I got closer, the figure leaned forward, and I caught a glimpse of their face. My blood ran cold.

It was someone I never expected to see again.

"Nolan," they said, their voice low and steady. "It's time we talked."

"You’ve got to be kidding me. It can't be," I replied, my voice trembling with disbelief.

"Well, we are still alive and well. The explosion didn’t take us out," they said calmly.

"Did Sienna put you up to this? Because she killed the three of you herself, and I buried you. Ever since I witnessed your deaths, she’s blackmailed me into doing her dirty work. And now, you’re alive? What in the world is going on?" I demanded, my fear giving way to confusion.

They chuckled, a sinister smile creeping across their faces. "Sorry, but we’re not who you think we are. But thank you for admitting to the murder charge. We’ll be grateful to use it to pressure you into assisting us with our project."

"I’m confused here. Who the hell are you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, fear creeping back in.

"You can call us the good guys. My name is Agent Leo. To my right is Agent Spark, and to my left is Agent Sia, whom you know as your ex-girlfriend," Leo explained.

"What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of huge prank or what?" I asked, feeling like the ground was slipping from beneath me.

"Well, dear, it isn't. Welcome to the DEA," Sia replied, her tone icy.

"Oh! It can't be," I muttered. Sia can't be a DEA agent... Was everything we had just part of her mission work? Was her contract marriage with Rowan also a mission? What in the world is going on? This is too much for me to bear, and as if one exposure wasn't enough—

I was knocked out cold.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself chained to an air conditioner on a rooftop, bound by chains and teetering on the edge. I could barely take in my surroundings before another surprise awaited me.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here," a voice echoed. "I hear you’re looking for me."