Page 5 of Sinful Bargains

I hesitated, wondering what exactly that meant. Still, before I could ask, Joey tipped his fedora in a casual salute and turned away, moving toward the door with the same silent command he'd entered with. The doorbell jingled softly as he exited, and I was left standing there, still processing.

Joey had made it clear—he was looking out for me. And I didn’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.

JOEY

Itold myself to stay away from that mysterious woman, but she was everywhere. Maybe it was just the nature of a small neighborhood—you couldn’t help but keep running into the same faces. Maybe it was because she was beautiful, and I’d never been good at resisting a pretty face. Either way, I couldn’t help myself. I had to know who she was. The images of her were burning a hole through my brain. She had an undeniable presence, and I had to know what had brought her to Staten Island. Her beauty was unquestionable, but it wasn’t just her looks that caught my attention—it was how she had seemed to develop a strength and stamina that were at odds with the slenderness of her body. But God, was she heavenly. It was the kind of beauty that made men like me pause.

I was no stranger to attracting attention; I commanded it in any room I entered. And I made sure of it. The feds had nicknamed me “The Shark,” an alias that reflected my demeanor and ruthless ability to climb the ranks of the city’s organized crime scene. I’d climbed the organization faster than anyone had expected, earning a fearsome reputation.After serving a prison sentence for extortion, many thought they’d seen the last of me—but I emerged from the shadows stronger, more focused, ready to take back what had been stolen from me.

Butshereminded me of something I’d thought I’d buried. I recognized that look on her face. That desperation. It was like staring into a mirror. My own mother’s struggle against my father flooded my mind when I looked into her deep brown eyes—full of the same silent plea for relief, for freedom I’d seen in my mother's eyes growing up. The difference was that she had somehow seemed to escape with her son, something my mother had never managed. As I looked at her teenage son, tall with unruly, dark hair, I realized that it had transported me back to my own childhood. It touched a softer spot in me that I thought had long died out. I knew enough about pain, about survival, to offer her something that could give her a shot at a fresh start. I was many things, but I was also a man who had seen enough to know when people were worth helping, and when they were just a lost cause. Something about her was worth helping.

I sat in a dimly lit bar at a corner booth, nursing a glass of whiskey, when Ben, the rogue cop on my payroll, approached and slid into the seat next to me. I didn’t acknowledge him, but instead placed a small manila envelope on the bar counter.

“What’s this?” he asked.

I finally acknowledged Ben as I sat back in my seat, taking up the space between us. “A woman’s driver’s license. Goes by the name Adriana Bianchi. I need everything you can dig up on her.”

His eyebrows rose. “You understand I risk my job when I pass over this kind of information, right?” he retorted.

My mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. “Your pockets are rewarded justly, so don’t start your nonsense with me. You know I’m good for the money once you give me what I want.”

Ben studied me and flashed a stern expression. “Always straight to the point, huh? Who is she, anyway?”

I shrugged, weighing his question. “That’s your job to figure out. All I know is she’s new around here, staying at that dump of a motel on Hawthorne Street. Showed up outta nowhere with a kid. I noticed her one night on the ferry, and then again at the diner. I felt sorry for her, so I got her a job working with Davidson at the corner store.”

“If she’s staying there, she doesn’t seem like your usual…type of interest,” he noted, which was precisely why I had to get her out of that dump as soon as possible. She didn’t belong in a place like that.

“You know better than to ask too many questions,” I warned, sipping my whiskey.

Ben leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. He took out the manila folder from his coat that he had tucked away and opened it to retrieve the driver's licenses inside, studying the photo of Adriana before he finally broke the silence. “This Davidson you mentioned—is that where you got this from?”

“I owe him a favor, and he’s recovering from hip surgery. He could use the help around that place, and she needed a job. You just need to do your part and get me a report. Past records, who she’s running from—if she’s running at all. I want it airtight.”

One corner of Ben’s mouth twisted upward. “Fine. But this one’s gonna cost you extra.”

I leaned forward, my voice dropping as my expression was tight and strained. “Let me tell you how this works, Benny. You give me what I ask for, and you get paid. You don’t, and you’ll be running from someone, too. Clear?”

“Crystal.” His brows flickered a little.

“Good,” I uttered, pulling out an envelope and sliding it towards Ben. “That should get you started. Half up front, half when I have her life story in my hands.”

Ben didn’t hesitate to grab the envelope and secure it in his coat pocket, along with the other manila folder. “You really know how to sweet-talk a guy, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift.” I smiled blandly. “Now get to work.”

Ben rose from his seat, disappearing behind me as I finished my whiskey and headed home. But before I did the dreadful task of returning home, I had one stop to make.

Home was with Renee. It was never supposed to be this way. The math was simple—two lonely people, one too many drinks, and fate was sealed. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Renee offered me her home. She was Vincent’s daughter. The plan fell into my lap. I had never played house before, but surely it wouldn’t be too hard.

Only Renee made it nearly impossible. She could smell the guilt of my intentions every time I walked through the front doors. But I was too close to throw in the cards. I had regained every ounce of respect Vincent had tried to take from me. I brought in the most profit out of everyone in the family, successfully funneling in millions of dollars while posing as an honest businessman at a car wholesale shop.

Even when the cops came for my throat, I had Benny on my side. I stuffed his pockets full of dirty money, and he led the NYPD on a wild goose chase, never once successfully pinning The Shark to the cross. I had more money than I knew what to do with yet I was playing house with Renee and chess with Vincent.

All I had to do was hang on a little longer, and I would rise to the top—where I belonged—becoming untouchable to Vincent. I could live in my quiet little mansion, raking in the dough. And the best part of it all? Vincent would no longer control my life, and Renee would have to dig her claws into another man.

I walked through the doors of the lonely mansion I had purchased. It was waiting for me to come home—to leaveRenee, to rise to the top, and to claim it like the underworld king I was. And it had a special designjustfor me.

I walked through the chilly foyer, rounded the corner, and stepped into the living room. My little secret stash of cash hidden in the beautiful wooden floor. I had to get my cut ready for the family meeting tomorrow night—20% to Christopher, the head of the family, and 10% to that bastard Vincent, the underboss.

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