The Devil's Deal
971 Words
The city glimmered beneath them like a tray of diamonds—beautiful, tempting, and cold. Alina sat across from Damien Reign at a private table on the rooftop, the candlelight flickering between them, casting shadows that danced over their sharp features.
For a moment, they said nothing.
She studied him, unsure if he was a trap or a weapon she could wield.
He watched her with a quiet patience that made her skin prickle. Like a man who already knew her answer, and was only waiting for her to realize it.
“I don’t trust you,” she said.
“I’d be worried if you did.” He leaned back, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand. “But you’re here. And that means you’re ready to stop playing the good girl.”
Alina’s fingers curled around her wine glass. “I’m not playing anything. I’ve seen what happens to girls who trust the wrong men.”
“Then don’t trust me,” Damien said, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Work with me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why? What do you get out of this?”
“You want revenge,” he said. “I want chaos. Your enemies are the kind of people I enjoy ruining. Seems like a win-win.”
“And when the dust settles?” she asked. “What happens when I’ve used you up?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Then you try to outplay me.”
Alina lifted her glass in a mock toast. “I hope you like losing.”
---
The next day, everything shifted.
She walked into her school—still technically in her final year—dressed in tailored black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and heeled boots that echoed against the hallway tiles. Gone were the soft cardigans and schoolgirl ponytails.
Whispers followed her like perfume.
“Is that Alina West?”
“She looks different…”
“She walks different.”
She didn’t bother to look at them. She was too busy calculating.
She had two months before graduation. Two months to get ahead of every move Camille and Veronica would make. Two months to rebuild ties with her grandfather. And now… with Damien in the picture, she had a silent partner watching from the shadows.
He had resources, contacts, surveillance, money.
She had motive, memory, and rage.
---
During lunch, she made her first move.
She approached Dylan Hale—the school’s golden boy, and more importantly, Camille’s current “flirt project.” In her last life, Camille toyed with him, used his family’s connections, then dumped him for Nicholas.
But this time, Alina smiled at him first.
“Dylan,” she said sweetly, resting a manicured hand on his table.
He looked up, surprised. “Alina?”
She tilted her head. “Mind if I sit?”
He blinked. “Uh—sure! Yeah.”
Camille, across the room, went still. Her fork froze mid-bite.
Alina didn't look at her. She just smiled at Dylan like he was the most interesting man alive.
She didn’t need Dylan. But Camille did.
And now Camille was watching her lose control—just a little.
Step one: Unbalance the enemy.
Alina was done playing defense.
Later that evening, Alina stood outside a tall, ivy-draped estate on the outskirts of the city—the ancestral West residence, and the private home of Gregory West, her grandfather.
The old man hadn’t spoken to her in her past life’s final year. Not because he didn’t want to—but because she had been too blind, too in love, too manipulated by her stepmother to even answer his calls.
Now, she was going to fix that.
She stepped out of the car, nerves steeled, and walked through the iron gates.
---
The butler blinked in surprise when he saw her. “Miss… Alina?”
“Please tell my grandfather I’m here to apologize,” she said. “And I won’t leave until I do.”
The man hesitated, then nodded and disappeared inside. Moments later, the doors creaked open.
Her grandfather stood in the doorway—taller than she remembered, despite the cane. His hair was more gray than white now, and his eyes still sharp as ever.
“Well,” he said after a long silence. “This is unexpected.”
“I owe you an apology,” she said immediately. “I made a mistake. A thousand, actually.”
Gregory raised a brow. “That’s quite an opening.”
“I didn’t come for forgiveness,” she continued, lifting her chin. “I came for a second chance.”
That made him pause.
She stepped forward, voice low. “I let my mother control me. I let Camille lie about you. I believed them. But I know the truth now, and I’m not going to let them destroy what you built.”
Gregory stared at her for a long time, like he was trying to read something hidden beneath her words. Then, to her shock, he stepped aside.
“Come in.”
---
They spoke for hours—about the past, the business, the betrayal. Alina didn’t give away everything, but she gave enough to prove she wasn’t the naive little doll anymore.
And by the end of it, Gregory West gave her a gift she hadn’t expected:
A key.
“To the study,” he said. “The family archives are yours to review. But remember—power isn't just about what you know. It's about what you do with it.”
Alina held the key tight.
She was going to do something with it all right.
Something unforgettable.
---
Outside, her phone buzzed again. A message from Damien.
Damien: Did it work?
Alina: I’m in.
Damien: Good. Then let’s shake their world.
- Writer
