Kiss The Killer

The Devil's Bargain

Sienna POV

Pier 47 reeked of dead fish and rotting seaweed. The fog

rolled off the water like ghost fingers, muffling every

sound except the creak of old wood beneath my feet. I

clutched my phone tighter, the camera app already

open.

Stupid. This was so incredibly stupid.

"You came." Lucian's voice cut through the mist behind

me.

I spun around. He emerged from the shadows like he'd

materialized from thin air, wearing dark jeans and a

leather jacket that probably cost more than my rent.

Casual. Relaxed. Like we were meeting for coffee instead

of... whatever this was.

"You said you'd tell me the truth."

"I said a lot of things." He stepped closer, and I fought

the urge to back away. "But first, let's discuss your little

photography hobby."

My mouth went dry. "I don't know what you're talking

about."

"Show me the phone, Siena."

"No."

He laughed, low and dangerous. "No? You walk into my

territory, alone, at midnight, and you tell me no?"

"This isn't your territory. It's a public pier."

"Everything in this city is my territory." His eyes

glittered in the dim light. "The question is whether

you're smart enough to understand that."

I raised my chin, trying to project confidence I didn't

feel. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm educating you." He pulled out his own phone,

swiping to a photo that made my blood freeze. It was

me, sitting in my apartment, taken through my kitchen

window. "Nice curtains, by the way. Yellow really suits

you."

The bastard had been watching me. For how long?

"Delete that," I whispered.

"Why? It's just a photo. Like the one you took of me."

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. The smart

thing would be to delete it. The safe thing. But as my

thumb hovered over the screen, something inside me

rebelled.

"You killed Tommy Ricci."

"Yes."

The simple admission hit me like a physical blow. I'd

expected denials, lies, gaslighting. Not... honesty.

"Why?"

"Because he betrayed my family. Because he got my

cousin killed. Because some crimes require justice, not

courts."

"That's not justice. That's murder."

"In your world, maybe." He moved closer, backing me

toward the pier's edge. "In mine, it's survival."

The water lapped against the pilings below us. One push,

and I'd disappear just like Tommy Ricci. Another

unsolved case. Another closed file.

"Please," I said, hating how small my voice sounded.

"Please don't kill me."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

My mind raced. What could I possibly offer him that he

didn't already have? Money? I was broke. Connections?

I knew nobody. Silence? He could get that by throwing

me in the harbor.

Then it hit me.

"Because I'm good at what I do."

He stopped moving. "What?"

"Information. I can find things other people can't. I can

get into places, ask questions, make people trust me."

The words tumbled out faster now, desperation making

me bold. "You saw my work. Professor Martinez

wouldn't have given me the assignment if I wasn't

capable."

"You're trying to bargain for your life?"

"I'm trying to offer you something valuable."

He studied my face for a long moment. "What makes

you think I need information?"

"Because you're here. Because you bothered to show up

instead of just having me killed. Because whatever's

happening in this city is bigger than Tommy Ricci, and

you need someone who can dig without raising

suspicions."

"And why would you help the man who murdered

someone in front of you?"

"Because I want to live." I met his eyes, forcing myself

not to look away. "And because maybe your version of

justice is the only kind that works in this place."

A slow smile spread across his face. Not warm. Not

reassuring. Predatory.

"Interesting proposal. But trust is earned, not

negotiated."

"Then let me earn it."

"How?"

I pulled up the photo on my phone. His face in the alley,

clear as day. With shaking fingers, I hit delete.

"There. It's gone."

"That was foolish."

"It was a gesture of good faith."

"It was evidence. Leverage. The only thing keeping you

alive."

Panic clawed at my throat. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He stepped close enough that I

could feel his breath on my face. "Now you have nothing

to bargain with except your word. And your word means

nothing to me."

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

His hand came up to touch my cheek, thumb tracing

along my jawline. The gesture was almost tender, which

made it infinitely more terrifying.

"Because you intrigue me, Siena Carter. You're scared,

but you're still fighting. Still thinking. Most people

would be begging and crying by now."

"Maybe I'm too stupid to know when I'm beaten."

"Or maybe you're exactly what I need."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "For information

gathering?"

"Among other things." His thumb moved to trace my

lower lip, and I hated that my body responded to the

touch. "Tell me, what do you know about the Torrino

family?"

The name sent ice through my veins. Everyone in the

city knew about the Torrinos. The Romano family's

biggest rivals. Their longest war.

"They're your enemies."

"They're everyone's enemies. But lately, they've been

moving product through the university. Using students

as runners, dealers, mules." His hand dropped to my

throat, fingers resting lightly against my pulse. "I need to

know who. I need to know how. And I need someone

who can walk through those halls without raising

suspicions."

"You want me to spy on my classmates."

"I want you to do what journalists do. Ask questions.

Follow leads. Find the truth."

"And if I say no?"

His fingers tightened slightly. Not enough to hurt, but

enough to remind me how fragile I was. How easily he

could end this.

"You won't say no."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're curious. Because you want the story.

And because..." He leaned closer, lips almost brushing

my ear. "You're already mine."

The possessiveness in his voice should have terrified me.

Instead, it sent heat racing through my veins.

"I'm not yours."

"Aren't you?" He pulled back to look at me, those green

eyes holding mine captive. "You came here tonight. You

deleted the photo. You offered to work for me. If that's

not surrender, what is?"

"It's survival."

"Same thing, in my world."

I wanted to argue, to deny it, to maintain some shred of

dignity. But he was right, and we both knew it. The

moment I'd made that phone call, I'd crossed a line I

couldn't uncross.

"What do you want me to do?"

His smile was sharp enough to cut. "Everything I tell you

to do. When I tell you to do it. Without questions."

"And in return?"

"You stay alive. You get your story. And you discover just

how deep this city's corruption really goes."

He stepped back, pulling a small device from his pocket.

A phone. Sleek, expensive, definitely not from any store

I could afford.

"Burner phone. My number's already programmed.

When you find something, you call me immediately. No

exceptions."

I took the phone with numb fingers. "What if I can't find

anything?"

"Then you'd better hope I'm feeling merciful." He turned

to walk away, then paused. "Oh, and Siena? If you even

think about going to the police or trying to run..."

"You'll kill me. I get it."

"No." He looked back over his shoulder, and the promise

in his eyes made my blood freeze. "I'll make you wish I

had.”