Page 19 of Sinful Bargains

I paced the living room floor all hours of the night, trying to shake off the images, but they lingered, gnawing at my consciousness. Sometimes, my chest would tighten, and I’d break down, tears streaming down my face as I thought of what I’d lose if they found us. What would happen to Antonio? What would happen to us? The police would rip him from my arms, and the fear of that alone threatened to swallow me whole. The idea of Antonio being taken from me, of him being forced to live a life without me—I’d much rather die than face a life behind bars away from him.

I felt helpless, trapped in my own reality. I had no plan, no escape. All I knew was I had to keep going, keep hiding, keep pretending everything was okay—even when I was far from okay.

Father Delgado had told me, in that hushed voice behind theconfessional screen, that I should go to the police. That I should confess what I’d done—that I was the one who killed my husband. But what did he expect? I was sure the police already knew. When they found him dead in the kitchen, they would piece it together. They knew. They had to know. They had to be looking for me. It was only a matter of time before they found me.

I didn’t need to go to the precinct to confess. I couldn’t bring myself to face them. To turn myself in. Not when Antonio was finally starting to heal, finally starting to feel safe again after everything. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—rip him from his new life. We’d arrived here, in the dead of winter, full of fear and desperation, and somehow, we’d survived. We’d rebuilt in mere weeks.

I’d take the sleepless nights. I’d take the nightmares. I’d carry this guilt with me every moment of my life if it meant keeping him safe. If it meant he could have the chance to be normal, to have the life he deserved. I would take it all to my grave.For Antonio, I would.

“Oh, come on! You’ve been cooped up too much. You deserve a night out, and this is the perfect night. Plus, Enzo has been begging for Antonio to spend the night.”

I half smiled. “Antonio has been asking the same.”

“And Joey’s going to be there,” she said with a smirk.

“Joey? How do you know he’ll be there?”

“He’s always there.” She grinned.

He’s always there?

She leaned back, grinning, “You’re coming. And when you’re sipping on the best Negronis you’ve ever had, you’ll thank me later.”

“Alright,” I sighed, giving in, “I’ll come. But only for you. I’m not going for any other reason. Except, maybe I could go for a Negroni.”

Angela smirked, knowing she’d won, just as Lucy walked through my front door. Angela could hardly contain the newswhen she saw Lucy. Anxiety still lingered, but the thought of seeing Joey, or having Joey see me, fueled me with a thrill I couldn’t quite understand. I could hardly care about the Negronis. But I wanted to wear my best dress and have Joey admire me. Even though I knew I shouldn’t. Even though I knew it was wrong.

The Wise Guywas unlike anything I’d ever seen. Amber-hued light bulbs lit an intimate glow across the room, while dark wood floors complemented leather couches and vintage decor scattered throughout. The music, a mix of Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra, played softly in the background. The bar was stocked with premium liquor, and Angela served us Negronis in elegant vintage glassware. The seating was minimal—just a few round tables paired with leather couches, each accompanied by an antique lamp and a glass ashtray on the tabletop. A velvet curtain concealed a hidden VIP section in the back. Angela let me peek behind the curtain, where there was a singular poker table sitting in the center of the room.

The Wise Guyfilled up quicker than I expected, though I didn’t know what to expect. I stayed by the bar to keep Angela company as she mixed drinks for the guys coming in. My eyes flicked toward the door every time it opened, hoping the next person to walk through would be Joey. He finally strode in alongside Paul and Marco. Marco had a thing for Angela, but she wasn’t the type of woman you could easily tie down.

Joey's eyes didn’t take long to find mine, and his usual swagger faltered. His gaze followed me as I moved closer to Angela at the bar. My hair was styled in victory rolls, and I wore a navy knee-length dress paired with a bold, red lip. It was the first time in a long time I had felt this confident in myself. And a part of me wanted someone to notice. But not just anyone—Joey. I wantedJoeyto notice me. This version of me. Not the one he was used to seeing.

He walked over, his eyes never leaving mine. As he drewcloser, a smirk danced at the corner of his lips. “Well, well, well, look who decided to join us tonight,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me. “You clean up nice, Adriana.Real nice.”

I tried not to smile, but my efforts were a waste. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Do you take ‘you’re the best-looking woman in the room’ as a compliment?” He grinned, glancing around the room quickly before his eyes returned to me. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks, certain I was blushing beet red.

He let out a soft chuckle, stepping back but never breaking eye contact. “Enjoy yourself tonight. And if you need another drink—or someone to remind you how good you look—you know where to find me.” He flashed that smile as he let Paul and Marco pull him off in the opposite direction.

His confident stride made it hard to look elsewhere. The way he moved, so sure of himself, seemed to command the entire room's attention. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he owned the place because he seemed to own every room he walked into. I couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed with each step, how his eyes flicked back toward me as he took a seat in one of the booths. I shook myself out of the trance, trying to focus on Angela's conversation with Lucy. But Joey’s smile echoed in my mind. He was so mysterious and intoxicating, it was hard not to pay attention to him.

The Wise Guycame to life as the hours ticked by, with soft music filling the smoke-laden room. Couples drifted to the small dance floor, their bodies swaying. I sat at the bar with Angela and Lucy, nursing my second Negroni of the night.

I felt Joey’s presence before I even saw him. I had trained myself to feel anyone sneaking up behind me. Angela and Lucy’s eyes widened in sync before darting to mine. Their expressions betrayed something—someone—fast approaching. And I knew it was him even without their bulging eyes trying to tell me so.

I whipped my head around, and there he was. Joey stoodwith effortless charm, one hand tucked into his pocket, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. His intense, blue eyes demanding that mine meet his.

He tilted his head towards the dance floor. “What do you say, one dance?”

Lucy nudged my arm. “Oh, go on. The man’s practically begging. Don’t make a man like him get on his knees for you.”

“Why not? I think that would be very entertaining,” Angela chimed in. “Adriana, make him sweat it out.”

“One dance,” I said, rising to my feet and smoothing out the creases in my dress.

Joey smirked, extending his hand. “That’s all I need.”

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