4: The Devil’s Proposal
873 Words
The words hung in the air like smoke.
A deal. One that would make Darian Cruz wish he’d never been born.
Amara blinked, unsure whether to laugh or slap him. “You think I want revenge?”
Sebastian didn’t flinch. He leaned back in the chair, rolling up his now bandaged sleeve. “Don’t you?”
“No.” She tore off her gloves. “I want peace, not vengeance. I’ve had enough of the Cruz family to last me a lifetime.”
He tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk curving his lips. “And yet you’re still shaking.”
Amara froze. Her hands really were trembling — not from fear, but from the weight of everything he represented. The Cruz name. The power. The betrayal.
And the cold, terrifying magnetism that seemed to follow this man like a second skin.
She turned away, muttering, “You should leave.”
He didn’t move. “You haven’t heard what I’m offering.”
“I don’t need to,” she said flatly. “I don’t want money or power. I just want to live my life quietly — without anyone named Cruz in it.”
Sebastian’s voice dropped low, calm but dangerous. “Then you’ll want to hear this even more.”
That tone made her look at him again.
He wasn’t smirking anymore.
“I can destroy Darian,” he said simply. “Everything he owns. Every contract. Every fake smile. I can expose his father’s corruption, the shell companies that hide their crimes — including what they did to you.”
Amara’s breath caught. “What they did to me?”
Sebastian’s gaze was steady, merciless. “You think the surgery request was coincidence? Darian’s father has a long history of using people like you — desperate, loyal, good — to clean up their messes. You were meant to be another name on a file. A convenient donor they could discard.”
Amara’s stomach twisted. “That’s not true.”
His tone hardened. “It is. I have proof.”
She stared at him, torn between disbelief and dread. “Why are you telling me this? Why do you care?”
Sebastian stood, his shadow stretching across the dimly lit room. “Because I’ve spent years watching my brother and his spoiled son destroy lives. I stayed silent too long. Now, I want to end it — properly.”
Amara’s pulse quickened. “And where do I fit into this?”
He stepped closer.
Close enough that she could see the faint scar cutting through his eyebrow, the kind of mark that spoke of a man who’d fought battles both visible and unseen.
“You,” he said quietly, “are the key.”
Her laugh was hollow. “Because I was stupid enough to love him?”
“No,” he said. “Because you have something he doesn’t — integrity. And a face the media trusts.”
Amara frowned. “What are you saying?”
Sebastian’s next words landed like a thunderclap.
“Marry me.”
She stared at him, certain she’d misheard. “What?”
“Marry me,” he repeated, his tone calm, as if proposing a business transaction. “A public marriage. A contract. It’ll give me leverage against my brother’s company — and it’ll make Darian crumble.”
Her heart pounded in her ears. “You’re insane.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled faintly. “But it’ll work.”
“You think I’d marry you — a man I barely know — just to hurt someone else?”
“I think,” he said, stepping closer, “you’re smart enough to know that sometimes the only way to win against the devil… is to make a deal with one.”
Her pulse raced. The room suddenly felt too small.
There was something about him — the confidence, the quiet darkness — that both frightened and fascinated her.
“I don’t make deals with men like you,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “You already did once, Amara. And it cost you everything. This time, you’d be the one in control.”
She swallowed hard, searching his face for mockery — but found none. Only cool, calculating resolve.
“What’s in it for you?” she finally asked.
“Access,” he said. “With you as my wife, I can enter the Cruz board again — legally. They won’t see me coming. And by the time they do…” His eyes darkened. “It’ll be too late.”
“And when your revenge is complete?” she asked bitterly. “What happens to me?”
His voice softened — unexpectedly. “You walk away richer, safer, and free. I don’t need your heart, Miss Velasquez. Just your name.”
⸻
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Outside, thunder rolled through the night, echoing the storm inside her chest.
Finally, Amara met his gaze, steady and defiant. “You really are the devil, aren’t you?”
Sebastian smiled — slow and wicked.
“No,” he said quietly. “The devil is my brother. I’m just the man who plans to burn his kingdom down.”
- Writer
