Follow
Chapters
Share
A deal with the devil: from revenge to love  Novel Cover

A deal with the devil: from revenge to love

He's the devil she can't resist. She's the one sin he can't afford. Rookie FBI agent Nina Torres has one goal- to find her sister and take down the man responsible for abducting her. Cold, calculating and untouchable, Rafael Santiago, the billionaire businessman with ties to the Black smoke syndicate has eluded every investigation. But when a chance encounter throws them into each other's path, Nina discovers that the line between duty and desire is far thinner than she imagined. Every glance from Rafael feels like a challenge, every touch a dangerous confession. In a city built on secrets and blood, falling for the enemy might be the one crime neither of them can survive.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

Nina

Eight years later.

"Sir, I have some intel about the Black Smoke gang and-"

"What did I tell you about putting your nose where it doesn't belong, Agent Torres?" Chief Keef shot me a withering glare.

I stayed undeterred. "Sir, this time the information is good."

"Really?" He stopped and turned, one eyebrow arching. "Okay then, agent. Who's your source?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is this is usable-something we can use to nail them once and for all. Those bastards keep slipping through our fingers."

He raised a hand to cut me off. "So what makes you think you can finally catch guys who've been evading our best agents for years? There's a reason nobody's put them away, Torres-there's no admissible evidence."

I scoffed. "Oh, come on, chief. We all know the Black Smoke gang are the worst scum."

He shrugged. "We all know it, yes. But common sense isn't what you bring to a courtroom. Rafael Santiago-the man suspected of leading them-presents to the world as a philanthropic billionaire. He's got dozens of businesses that may or may not be money-laundering fronts."

"Chief-" I started, but he'd already turned and continued down the hallway toward his office. Gritting my teeth, I sped up to catch him. "I don't even need the rest of the team. I just need your permission to check this intel. If it's a bust, I'll drop it. If it isn't-"

He halted, sighed, and spun to look me in the eye. "Agent Torres, you're a damn good agent."

Pride swelled. I'd kicked my own ass through college and the Academy to become an FBI agent. I'd pursued leads and paperwork and late nights-and for years I'd been trying to find Rosa.

Deep down I believed she was still out there, and that bastard Rafael Santiago knew where. If I could tie him to that night, I could save her.

"But you're too damn fixated on the Black Smoke gang," he finished. The words deflated me. "I don't know what this obsession is-"

"They're evil and notorious, and the longer we let them roam, the worse this city gets. If we want to-"

"Cleaning up the city isn't our job." He cut me off with a hard look. "Leave this alone. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong before you get hurt. Leave the Black Smoke gang to the big boys."

My fists clenched at my sides. By "big boys" he meant Richard Greer and Matthew Mullock-the two alpha agents who treated the job like a trophy hunt. They wanted glory and press releases; they didn't give a damn about the victims.

"It's been months since they had a lead," I protested.

He shrugged. "Why don't you hand your so-called intel to them? They'll check it out."

There was no way I'd trust those assholes with what I'd dug up through blood, sweat, and tears.

"But-"

"Enough, Torres." He snapped. "This discussion is over. And one more thing-if you disobey me and pursue this on your own, you'll be in big trouble. Understood?"

I forced a nod. "Understood, sir."

"Good. Now go get me my damn coffee from that nice place down the street." He turned to walk away, then glanced over his shoulder. "And the paperwork from the Colby case was supposed to be on my desk two days ago. If you don't want this job, Torres, I know a hundred people eager to take your place."

"The file will be on your desk before the day ends, sir," I said.

"Don't fail me." His voice carried a warning. "And while you're at it-throw in some donuts with the coffee."

Damn it.

One year on the job and I was still stuck doing paperwork and coffee runs. If it weren't for capability, I was capable-but this was the reality of being a woman in a male-dominated field. I was treated like a secretary more than an agent, and I was sick of it.

I marched out and headed down the street for Chief Keef's coffee and donut. As I paid, my phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed. I answered.

"Hey."

"You know that cute lawyer from the other day? He thinks you're perfect and he's interested," Katy squealed into the phone.

"I'm not interested, Katy. I've told you a million times-I'm not dating right now." I sighed.

"But, Nina!" she whined. "You always say no. Don't you think he's cute?"

"I do-" My words trailed off as someone bumped into me. I nearly spilled the coffee. "Hey, watch it!"

"Are you even listening, Nina?" Katy snapped. "You never hang out, you never go on dates. All you do is work."

I rolled my eyes, tired of the same lecture. "Can we talk later?"

"No-we're talking now!" she insisted.

Across the road, a dark-haired man shook hands with another man and slid into a black Mercedes. I caught my breath when I realized who it was.

"You spend every waking moment digging into the Black Smoke gang and talking about-"

"Rafael Santiago," I muttered.

"Yeah, him," she hissed.

"No, I mean-he's right across the road." I blurted. "I have to go."

"Nina, don't do anything stupid. Do not confront the big, bad, deadly gang leader. Please tell me you're not that crazy."

I winced, ended the call, and climbed into a waiting cab. Maybe I was a little crazy. But I had to find Rosa. Time was running out.

"Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked.

"Follow that black Mercedes. Now."

You may also like

After My Fiancé Killed Her, My Mom Returned Alive Novel Cover
9.6
The red ink on the safety audit looked too much like blood under the flickering fluorescent lights of my office. Outside, Seattle was drowning. The rain wasn’t just falling; it was hammering against the glass, a relentless, rhythmic assault that usually helped me focus. Tonight, it made my skin crawl. My phone buzzed against the mahogany desk, vibrating with an urgent, staccato rhythm. *Priority One Collision. Intersection of 4th and Pike. Structural compromise reported.* My stomach tightened. I had flagged that intersection three times in the last month. Faded lane markers, poor drainage, blind spots.
Alpha's Hated Human Mate. Novel Cover
8.2
Overwhelmed by hatred and distress, the young Alpha Kaiden swears to make his brother pay the price of his betrayal... When her lover defected the King without any warning, the vengeful new Alpha had already come to the poor human girl Ophelia , claiming that she should pay the debt. *** "You will beg me to fuck you if you want your lover to live," Alpha King Kaiden had lost all his humanity. "How dare you do this? I'm your brother's mate!" Ophelia whimpered, holding her hands to her breasts. "That brother who wanted my crown and my life? Fuck him and fuck you!" The furious Alpha didn't care about it anymore. He wanted revenge! He grasped her hands and pinned them over her head. Her beautiful body appeared as the silk cloth quickly slid down. She's damn gorgeous when she was completely naked! "Well, no wonder my brother wanted to fuck you," Kaiden taunted with a smirk, "but now it's I who will be the one to steal your virginity." Kaiden claimed as he tighten her waist, making her approaching to his d*ck. "Pl----ease do------nt," her voice was drowned out while his wild kiss fell on her lips. At this moment, Ophelia knew her life now became a disaster...
BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS Novel Cover
8.4
Palermo does not forgive. Neither does it forget. When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm-but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city. Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named. The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings. The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother's resolve. But whispers spread faster than steel through the night-rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart: Guerrero Valenti. The father who abandoned him. The legend whose name alone commands obedience. The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire. And when he comes, Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall. Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood. This is the story of survival. Of fire and steel. Of a mother and her son. Of a father's return. Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood ... the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a "BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI. And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .
Betrayal at the Gala Novel Cover
9.2
The steady beep of the heart monitor had become the soundtrack to my prison. Three years trapped in this body—aware, conscious, but unable to move or speak. A living hell where I could only watch as my life was stolen from me piece by piece. I remembered the explosion at the chemical plant with perfect clarity. The warning sirens, the panic, the acrid smell as the air turned toxic. I remembered pushing Michael toward the exit, the burning in my lungs as I inhaled what should have killed him. My last conscious thought had been relief that he was safe. What cruel twist of fate had left my mind intact while my body betrayed me? The doctors called it locked-in syndrome—a rare complication of my coma. They had no idea I could hear every word, feel every touch, see everything through my half-closed eyelids.
Deceit Led to Daughter's Death Novel Cover
8.7
The mind-link hit me like a physical blow, tearing through my consciousness with raw panic and desperation. *Luna! Emergency at the eastern border! Rogue attack! The pups—Emma—* I dropped the teacup I'd been holding, porcelain shattering against the kitchen floor as Gamma Reynolds' frantic voice echoed in my mind. My wolf, Celeste, surged forward instantly, her maternal instincts screaming danger. *Luke!* I reached out through our mate bond, but found only silence. Not the comfortable quiet of distance, but the deliberate, impenetrable wall that had become all too familiar lately. *Alpha Anderson is unavailable,* came Beta Marcus's strained response when I tried the pack link. *He's dealing with Nathan's emergency at the clinic.* Nathan.
Dying, I Left His Ruthless Bed Novel Cover
7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything. "No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines." Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state. Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity. I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.