Chapter 6 The Devil’s Bargain
Liam couldn’t stop thinking about the dress fitting.
Not because he’d been there—he hadn’t—but because of the look on Siobhan’s face when she got home afterward. That guarded, fierce, I’m-protecting-someone look.
“She’s not what you think,” Siobhan had said, standing in the doorway of his office, arms crossed.
“I don’t think anything,” Liam replied, eyes glued to the ledger on his desk.
“Liar.”
“What do you want me to say, Siobhan? That I trust her? I don’t. That I like her? I don’t. She’s a Scarpetti. That’s all I need to know.”
Siobhan had studied him, disappointment flickering across her features, brief but sharp. “You’re wrong about her.”
“Maybe. But I can’t afford to be wrong.”
She had left then, without another word, and the silence she left behind had been heavy, almost physical.
Now, two days later, Liam sat in the back of a blacked-out SUV, the city passing in rain-streaked blurs outside.
The meeting he was heading toward had been circling his mind for weeks. The Colombians.
His driver, Finn, glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
“You sure about this, boss?”
“No,” Liam said flatly. “But we don’t have a choice.”
Finn nodded, jaw tight. Fifteen years with the O’Sullivans had taught him when to push, and when to shut up. This was a shut-up moment.
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Rust and salt tang floated in the air. The kind of place where deals were made, and bodies disappeared—sometimes in that order.
Liam stepped out, straightening his jacket, two men flanking him. Finn and Rory—alert, armed, steady.
The warehouse door was already open.
Inside, the space was dim, the shadows long. A single table waited in the center, flanked by two chairs.
A man stood near the table, hands clasped behind his back.
Mateo Vargas.
Tall. Impeccable. Dark eyes that didn’t smile. The kind of man who could make you die over breakfast and leave the table hungry.
“Mr. O’Sullivan,” Mateo said smoothly. “Thank you for coming.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Liam said, stepping toward the table.
Mateo’s thin smile widened. “Straight to business. I like that.”
They sat.
Liam’s men lingered near the door. Mateo’s guards—three, weapons ready—stood in the shadows, silent, patient.
“You requested this meeting,” Mateo said, folding his hands neatly. “I’m curious. What could the O’Sullivans possibly need from us?”
“A shipment,” Liam said evenly. “One time. Clean.
Untraceable.”
“What kind of shipment?”
“Cocaine. Enough to fund a full transition.”
Mateo’s brows lifted slightly. “A transition? How ambitious. And what exactly are you transitioning to?”
“Legitimacy.”
The word hung between them. Heavy.
Mateo laughed low and dark, amused. “Legitimacy. How quaint. And here I thought the O’Sullivans were lifers.”
“Things change.”
“Indeed they do.” Mateo leaned back, watching Liam as if measuring him, every movement precise, predatory. “But legitimacy is expensive, Mr. O’Sullivan. Very expensive. And I’m not in the charity business.”
“I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking for a deal.”
“And what are you offering in return?”
Liam reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded document. He slid it across the table.
Mateo picked it up, unfolded it carefully. Eyes scanning, unreadable.
“Distribution rights,” he said finally. “Through our ports. Five years.”
“Exclusive rights,” Liam said. “No interference. No competition. You move your product through our territory. We take twenty percent. That’s it. No questions. No skimming. No problems.”
Mateo set it down. “Twenty percent is generous.”
“It’s fair.”
“Fair,” Mateo repeated, thinly smiling. “And after five years?”
“You renegotiate. Or you don’t. Either way, we’re out. Shipment funds our exit.”
“And if you default? If you can’t pay?”
Liam’s jaw tightened. “I don’t default.”
“Everyone defaults eventually, Mr. O’Sullivan. Human nature.” Mateo leaned forward. Cold eyes. “So I’ll ask again. What happens if you can’t deliver?”
“I will.”
“But if you don’t?”
Liam’s fists clenched beneath the table. “Name your collateral.”
Mateo’s smile widened. Sharp. Ice-cold.
“I’ve heard congratulations are in order,” Mateo said, casual, conversational. “A wedding. To the Scarpetti girl. Quite the scandal.”
Liam froze. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t she?” Mateo tilted his head. “You marry her to end a war. Secure peace. Build a future. She’s the foundation of everything. That makes her… very valuable.”
“She’s off the table.”
“Is she?” Mateo leaned back. “Because I think she’s perfect collateral.”
“No.”
“Think about it. If you default, we don’t take your ports. Don’t take your money. Don’t even take your life.” He let the words sink in. “We take her.”
Liam shot to his feet. Chair scraping against concrete. “I said no.”
Mateo didn’t flinch. Calm. Predator calm. “Sit down.”
“Go to hell.”
“Sit. Down.”
The guards shifted. Hands on weapons.
Finn and Rory tensed. Liam’s body buzzed with rage.
Mateo raised a hand. “Let’s not be dramatic. Business, nothing more.”
“This isn’t business. It’s extortion.”
“Call it what you want. But you want the shipment, these are my terms.” Cold. Final.
Liam’s hands shook. “She’s a person, not a bargaining chip.”
“She’s a Scarpetti. You’re an O’Sullivan. People like us? Bargaining chips. That’s the world.”
Liam’s mind raced. He needed this deal. Without it, his family stayed trapped in blood. Siobhan would never be free. Declan would have died for nothing.
But Alessia…
He barely knew her. Barely trusted her. She was his enemy, forced into his life by council ghosts.
And yet.
The thought of handing her over made his stomach turn.
“I won’t default,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “So your collateral is irrelevant.”
“Then agreeing should be simple.” Mateo’s grin was victorious, thin and sharp.
Liam wanted to walk out. To tell him to shove it.
But he couldn’t. Mateo was right. This was the only way forward.
“Fine,” Liam said. Bitter. Ash on his tongue. “I won’t default.”
Mateo stood, extending his hand.
Liam stared, then shook it. Sealed the bargain.
“The shipment in six weeks,” Mateo said. “Payment upfront. Ten million.”
“Done.”
“And Mr. O’Sullivan?” Mateo’s grip tightened slightly. “I hope for your sake—and hers—that you’re as good as your word.”
He let go. Guards fell into the shadows. They disappeared. Door slammed behind them.
Liam stood, chest heaving, hands trembling—not just from rage, but guilt.
Because he’d made Alessia collateral. And she had no idea.
If he failed—if anything went wrong—she’d pay.
Finn stepped forward, pale. “Boss… there might be another way.”
“It’s done,” Liam snapped.
“But—”
“It’s done.” He moved toward the door. “Not a word. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
They walked back to the SUV in silence.
Liam slid into the back seat, staring at the dark streets, rain slicked and empty.
He thought of Alessia. Cold hazel eyes. Sharp words. That look at the restaurant—like she could see all his lies.
She was dangerous. His enemy.
But now her life was tied to his.
And if he failed, the cartel wouldn’t just kill her. They’d make her vanish.
He closed his eyes. Jaw tight.
“I won’t fail,” he whispered to the darkness.
Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he believed it.