The Devil’s Bargain

Ava’s pulse thundered in her ears as Damian’s words hung between them like a loaded gun.

“That’s where I come in.”

She was not naive. Damian Moretti wouldn’t offer help without expecting something in return. The question was—what exactly did he want?

She willed herself to stay still, her thoughts torn between standing her ground and running very far from him. But there was nowhere to go. Not with Holloway’s men hunting her.

Damian took a slow sip of his whiskey, his dark eyes watching her like a predator whose prey had no escape route.

“You know you’re in over your head, Sinclair.” There was an edge to his voice, but also a teeny bit of amusement. “You should’ve walked away the moment you saw Holloway in that casino.”

Ava exhaled sharply. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?”

A smirk— which disappeared almost as soon as it appeared played at the corner of his lips. “That depends actually. Are you willing to do what it takes to survive?”

She felt her stomach tighten. She knew what this was. “A deal with the devil.”

“What do you want?” she asked, surprised by the steadiness of her voice despite the chaos inside her.

Damian set his glass down on the sleek bar, stepping closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity.

“I want what you know,” he said. “Every word you heard in that room. Every detail you’ve gathered on Holloway. And in return…” His fingers trailed along the rim of his glass. “I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a ditch far away before sunrise.”

Ava’s throat tightened. She had seen enough bodies disappear in Vegas to know he wasn’t exaggerating.

She had two choices:

Trust Damian and risk getting tangled in his world.

Or take her chances alone—with Holloway’s men closing in.

She squared her shoulders. “Fine.”

Damian arched a brow, his amusement deepening. “Fine?”

“You want information? I’ll give it to you,” she said. “But if I do this, I’m not going to be your puppet. I want out when this is over.”

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “You don’t get to just ‘walk away’ from this, Sinclair. But I like that fire.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Keep it. You’ll need it.”

Ava’s skin prickled. She was playing with fire, and she knew it—

But it was definitely too late to back out now.

Before she could respond, a sharp knock shattered the tension.

Damian’s gaze flicked toward the door. In an instant, his entire demeanor shifted—casual arrogance replaced by sharp calculation.

He grabbed Ava’s wrist and yanked her back, pressing a finger to her lips in a silent command for silence.

The knock came again. Louder.

“Mr. Moretti,” a deep voice called from the other side. “We’re looking for a woman. Short, brunette. She was seen entering the restricted area.”

Ava’s heart pounded as Damian leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Stay quiet. Don’t move.”

He released her and strode toward the door, his movements effortless, controlled. When he opened it, his expression was pure indifference.

“Do you want to ask that question again?” Damian’s voice was smooth, dripping with quiet authority.

The security guard hesitated, shifting on his feet. “Apologies, sir. We were told—”

“You were told wrong.” Damian’s tone hardened. “Now get the fuck out of my sight before I make you regret interrupting me.”

The guard swallowed hard. “Of course, Mr. Moretti.”

A beat later, footsteps retreated down the hall.

Damian shut the door and turned back to Ava. “You owe me for that.”

She exhaled, tension coiling in her chest. “I already said I’d help you. What more do you want?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

—

By the time they left the casino, the air outside was thick with the heat of the Vegas night. Damian led her to a sleek black Aston Martin parked in a secluded lot, opening the door for her like they were on a damn date.

Ava hesitated.

Getting into that car meant she was officially stepping into Moretti’s world.

But what choice did she have?

She slid into the passenger seat, and Damian shut the door before rounding the car and settling into the driver’s seat.

As they pulled onto the road, Ava finally broke the silence.

“What’s your real angle here, Moretti?”

Damian’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel. “Holloway’s getting sloppy. He’s making moves that threaten my interests. You’re the first person who’s gotten close enough to catch him slipping.”

“You mean I’m your leverage.”

He smirked. “Call it what you want. But you just became a very valuable asset, Sinclair.”

Ava’s stomach churned. She wasn’t just in danger—she was now part of a war.

And Damian Moretti had just claimed her as his weapon.

—

They pulled up to a luxury high-rise on the outskirts of the Strip. Damian stepped out first, nodding to the valet before opening Ava’s door.

“Come on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ava followed him inside, the private elevator swallowing them in silence as it ascended.

When the doors opened, she stepped into a space that felt more like a fortress than a penthouse—floor-to-ceiling tinted windows, dim lighting, and an unmistakable air of control.

Damian shrugged off his jacket and poured himself another drink. “You can stay here for now. Holloway’s men won’t find you.”

Ava crossed her arms. “Then what?”

Damian took a slow sip of whiskey before setting the glass down. His gaze locked onto hers, unreadable, calculating.

“Then, Sinclair…” His voice was a quiet promise. “You help me burn Raymond Holloway to the ground.”

Ava’s breath caught.

This wasn’t just about survival anymore.

She had just become part of a game far bigger than she’d ever imagined.

And with Damian Moretti as her only ally—

Losing wasn’t an option.