Page 77 of Sinful Bargains

He sighed, tugging his lower lip between his teeth. “I love you,” he said, his voice threatening to break. “I’ve never known love before you. And if I have to go—whether tomorrow or fifty years from now—I’ll die a happy man, because of you.”

JOEY

Iadjusted the cuffs of my shirt, my fingertips betraying me by their slight tremor. I straightened my jacket, glancing in the mirror once more. If tonight went sideways, I wanted to look like a man. My heartbeat drummed against my ribcage, a reminder that I was still breathing. For now, at least.

Was this the end of the road for me?The thought curled in the pit of my stomach.

No.

I can’t write my own fate. It’s not in my hands anymore. And thinking like that could get a guy killed faster than any bullet.

The gun strapped beneath my waistband felt heavier tonight. I didn’t intend to use it tonight; that would be suicide. But in a world of strict rules, carrying it wasn’t an option—it was insurance. I always swore I’d never beg for my life or go out like some rat huddled up in a corner.

But it was time.

I reached for the small gold cross hanging from a thin chain around my neck, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger.It felt like the only anchor left. I kissed it and slipped it back under my shirt. I wasn’t a God-fearing man on most days. But today wasn’t most days.

Staten Island felt colder tonight despite it being summertime. The world looked different when you weren’t sure you’d still be part of it by sunrise. If tonight was my last night, I would go down in my best suit, with my memories of Adriana still fresh in my mind. I would die standing for everything I believed in. That’s what real men do.

Once I arrived at the warehouse where the meeting was taking place, Hector was waiting for me outside. His expression was cold. Detached. “I’ll need your gun,” he said.

I slipped the weapon from the waistband of my pants and handed it over. He took it as his gaze locked on mine. There wasn’t a hint of malice in his eyes, but that didn’t stop the stray thought that crossed my mind.

What if Hector used my own gun against me the second I walked through those doors?

I pushed the thought aside, forcing my shoulders to stay square. It’s amazing how you notice your own breath—how in tune you become with your body—when you’re unsure if it’ll still be breathing in the next few minutes.

Hector opened the doors, and I stepped inside.

As soon as I saw who was waiting for me, my pulse spiked. It wasn’t just Christopher. Vincent sat next to him, his jaw clenched like he was daring me to slip up. Marco sat next to Vincent. But it was Paul, sitting stiffly at the far end of the table, who caught my attention. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

Paul was the closest thing to a brother I’d ever had. We both knew the stakes of this game. If I was being set up for a fall, they would force Paul to pull the trigger—the weight of killing me rested on his shoulders. And if he didn’t, then they’d take us both down.

I’d already told him he couldn’t go down for me. He had toomuch to lose, and I wasn’t going to let him throw his life away for mine. That’s how this life worked. He was the only brother I ever had, and if the cards fell that way, I could live with him doing what he needed to do to survive. I’d rather it be him than Vincent.

Christopher was seated at the head of the table, watching me. I could feel the weight of every pair of eyes in the room. I stopped in the middle of the floor, standing tall despite the tension curling in my gut, and waited for my fate to be delivered.

“Joey, why don’t you sit down?” Christopher said, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

Even Vincent’s head snapped toward him, his brows furrowed like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And honestly, neither could I. That was the last thing I expected—a polite invitation to take a seat at the table.

But I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t question his authority. That’d be signing my own death certificate. I moved forward and lowered myself into the chair across from him, keeping my expression steady despite the knot forming in my chest.

“I’ve been informed you’re working with law enforcement,” Christopher began. “I could have placed the hit as soon as I heard the news, but Icouldn’tbelieve it. I wanted to hear it from your own mouth.”

“I’m not working with law enforcement,” I admitted, but Vincent cut me off before I could finish.

“He’s a lying piece of garbage! Kill him and get it over with!” he barked, full of pure rage. The same rage his daughter possessed.

Christopher didn’t even look at him. “Sit down, or I’ll have you removed,” he warned. I smirked inwardly to myself, watching Vincent lower back into his seat like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

“Law enforcement works for me on occasion,” I said. “NYPDDetective Benjamin Hudson—he’s someone I met when I was at Rikers. He did me a solid back then, and we’ve kept in touch since I’ve been out.”

I knew I’d sealed my fate. I’d just confessed to something no one in this room could forgive, but I’d rather go down telling the truth than let Vincent write my story for me.

“What exactly does this cop help you with?” Christopher asked.

“Intel, background checks—he keeps an eye on things from the inside and lets me know if the feds are sniffing around any of our business deals,” I said. “But he’ll do anything I tell him to.”

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