MY MYSTERIOUS MAFIA

CHAPTER 4 - THE DEVIL’S BARGAIN

I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the silk sheets, my fingers tracing the seams as though they could tell me answers the man himself refused to give. The night before felt like a fever dream—blood on my car seats, his heavy presence beside me, the warehouse, the trap, and the way his hands steadied me when my own body betrayed me.

Now, in the morning light, it was harder to believe. Yet the faint sting in my leg and the expensive clothes draped over my body were proof enough. Nothing about this world was normal, and neither was he.

Alejandro Cruz Santiago.

The name rolled around in my mind like a riddle. Billionaire CEO in the daylight. El Cruz in the shadows. And somehow, fate—or perhaps sheer bad luck—had tangled me into his story.

The door opened without a knock, and there he was. Dark shirt, sleeves rolled, his usual mask gone but the invisible one still there. He carried himself like he owned the air in the room. Maybe he did.

“You’re awake,” he said simply.

I swallowed. “You dropped me in a stranger’s bed. That’s… not exactly comforting.”

A faint curve touched his lips, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “This isn’t a stranger’s bed. It’s mine.”

The words made my pulse stumble. Not because of their meaning but because of how calmly he said them, as though I had always belonged here. As though I hadn’t just stumbled into his world by accident.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

His eyes, sharp and endless, locked onto mine. “Nothing you’re not already good at.”

I froze. The implication was clear. My hacking. My codes. My secrets.

“You… you knew?” My throat felt dry.

“I don’t keep people near me without knowing everything about them,” he said. “I know what you did for Antonio. I know you cracked systems most men twice your age couldn’t touch. You think you’re invisible behind your screen, Isabella, but to the wrong people… you’re a goldmine.”

Hearing my name from his lips startled me more than his knowledge. He said it like he owned it, heavy and unshakable.

“So that’s it?” I whispered. “I’m just… useful to you?”

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—something human. Then it vanished, replaced by the steel mask.

“You have two choices,” he said, stepping closer. His presence filled the room, dangerous and magnetic all at once. “You leave here, and Antonio’s men will find you within a day. You know too much, you’ve seen too much, and they will not forgive that. Or—” he paused, eyes never leaving mine, “you stay under my protection. You work for me. And no one touches you.”

It wasn’t protection. It was a cage. A golden cage, but a cage nonetheless.

“And if I say no?” I asked, though my voice trembled at the edges.

His gaze darkened, and for a moment, silence pressed against the walls like a heavy fog. Then he leaned slightly closer, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Then I’ll let you walk out that door. But make no mistake, Isabella—you won’t last a day.”

I hated how much truth weighed in his words. He wasn’t bluffing. He didn’t need to.

Something inside me rebelled against him, against the arrogance, the control. But another part of me—the part that remembered his hand steadying me when blood ran down my leg—hesitated. He was dangerous, yes. But Antonio was worse.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s pawn,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt.

He studied me for a long moment, as though measuring the steel beneath my words. Then, to my surprise, a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“Good. Pawns don’t survive long in this world. Queens do.”

The air between us thickened. I wanted to demand what that meant, to demand why he looked at me as though I was something more than a hacker who had stumbled into his bloodstained night. But the words tangled in my throat.

Instead, I turned away, whispering, “And what if I don’t want to play your game at all?”

The silence stretched again, heavy and unyielding. Then, softly, almost too softly, he said:

“Then pray Antonio never finds you.”

His footsteps receded, the door shutting behind him, leaving me alone with the storm raging inside my chest.

It wasn’t fair. None of it. I hadn’t asked for this war, hadn’t asked to be a piece in their twisted feud. But as I sat there, clutching the sheets tighter, I realized the cruel truth.

Whether I wanted to or not, I was already part of it.

I don’t know how long I stayed frozen after he left. The silence of that room wasn’t peace—it was pressure, like every corner carried eyes that weren’t there. My heart kept pounding with his words. “Queens survive.” Who even said things like that? And why did it feel like he wasn’t just talking about the mafia world but about me—about us?

I should have hated him. The arrogance. The control. The way he boxed me into two impossible choices. But the truth? Deep down, I hated myself more for even hesitating.

I should’ve walked out the moment he gave me the chance. But I didn’t. I sat there, clutching those stupid sheets, trembling with fear and… something else. Something I didn’t want to name.

The door burst open again—not him this time. Diego, his right-hand man, stormed in with urgency written all over his face. His sharp eyes scanned me once, then the room, as though ensuring I hadn’t vanished.

“Get up,” he barked. “We don’t have time.”

My heart jolted. “What? Why?”

“Antonio’s men,” he said, his voice tight. “They tracked your car. They’re already in the city.”

Cold washed through me. My car. Of course. The blood. The chase. I’d been careless. I thought about the stain I hadn’t cleaned, the trail I didn’t erase. My fingers went numb.

Diego moved toward me, impatient. “You can sit here and wait for them to carve you up, or you can come with me now.”

“I—” my voice cracked. “Alejandro didn’t—”

“He already knows,” Diego snapped. “He said if you’re smart, you’ll move. If not…” His shrug finished the sentence.

I didn’t need more convincing. My legs wobbled as I stood, my heart racing so loud I was sure Diego could hear it. He led me quickly through the house, down marble stairs and shadowed halls until we reached the garage.

That’s when I saw him again.

Alejandro.

He stood by a sleek black car, a gun holstered at his side, his expression calm but deadly. The moment his eyes landed on me, it was like everything around me disappeared. For a man who barely spoke, his gaze said everything.

“You should’ve cleaned your car,” he said, almost casually.

Shame burned through me. “I didn’t think—”

“Exactly,” he cut in. “You didn’t think. And in this world, not thinking will get you killed.”

His words stung, not because they were harsh but because they were true. Still, a flicker of defiance rose inside me. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have dragged me into this world at all.”

For the first time, something cracked in his expression—a flash of guilt, maybe, or regret. It was gone too quickly to be sure.

He opened the car door, his tone final. “Get in.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him I wasn’t his soldier, his pawn, his… whatever he thought I was becoming. But the urgency in his voice left no room for rebellion. I slid into the car, and moments later, Diego took the driver’s seat while Alejandro sat beside me.

The city blurred past as we sped through Madrid’s streets, neon lights mixing with the shadows of the night. My pulse wouldn’t calm, my fingers gripping the seatbelt like it could anchor me.

Finally, I whispered, “Where are we going?”

His eyes stayed on the road ahead. “Somewhere Antonio won’t think to look.”

“And after that?”

He turned to me then, and the intensity in his gaze almost stole my breath. “After that, Isabella, you’ll decide if you’re with me… or against me.”

My stomach dropped. The weight of his words settled heavy between us. With him—or against him. There was no middle ground. No escape.

Before I could answer, the car jolted violently. Gunshots shattered the night, bullets slamming into the metal. I screamed, ducking instinctively as Diego swerved hard to the left, tires screeching.

“They found us!” Diego shouted.

Alejandro cursed under his breath, pulling his gun in one swift motion. He lowered the window, returning fire with cold precision. His movements were terrifyingly calm, like this was routine.

The chase cut through the streets, bullets flying, glass shattering. My body shook uncontrollably, but my eyes couldn’t tear away from him. Alejandro was a storm, controlled yet wild, ruthless yet almost graceful.

For the first time, I understood why people feared him.

And for the first time, I feared him too.

The car swerved again, the enemies closing in. Alejandro glanced at me once, his voice sharp, commanding.

“Stay down, Isabella. And whatever happens… don’t run.”

His words burned into me just as the car slammed into an alley wall, the world exploding into chaos.