The Forger's Gambit Chapter 8

The Devil's Bargain

The storm had passed, leaving a bruised, clear sky in its wake. The intimacy of the night before felt like a dream, a dangerous illusion shattered by the harsh light of day. Alessandro was back to being the impassive sentinel, his walls firmly back in place. But the crack he’d revealed remained in Evelyn’s mind, a vulnerability she couldn’t unsee.

The FBI phone buzzed, a frantic insect trapped in the table leg. Her heart leaped into her throat. She waited until Alessandro was distracted by a logistics call before retrieving it.

“We need something concrete,” Agent Cole’s voice was tense, urgent. “A recording. A name. Something we can use to get a warrant. Valeri is meeting with the Irish contingent tonight. We need to know where and what they’re discussing.”

“I’m a forger, not a spy,” Evelyn hissed, her back to the room. “I can’t just record them.”

“Figure it out,” Cole snapped. “Your brother’s safety depends on your usefulness to us. Remember that.”

The line went dead. The threat was now a constant, humming undercurrent to her every thought.

Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor. Later that afternoon, Alessandro received a call that made his posture stiffen. He listened, his responses terse. “Understood. We’ll be there.” He hung up and turned to her, his expression grim.

“The meeting with the Irish has been moved. Here. Tonight.”

Ice water flooded Evelyn’s veins. Here. The FBI’s demand and her reality were colliding with terrifying force.

“Why here?” she managed to ask.

“Security. Our usual places are compromised. This location is still clean.” His eyes narrowed. “You will remain in your room. You will see nothing. You will hear nothing. Is that clear?”

It was the perfect opportunity. And a perfect death sentence if she was caught.

The brownstone transformed as evening fell. More men arrived, their presence making the spacious rooms feel claustrophobic. The air grew thick with the scent of cigar smoke and expensive cologne. From behind her locked bedroom door, Evelyn could hear the low rumble of male voices, the clink of glasses.

This was her only chance.

Her hands were shaking as she retrieved the disposable phone. It had a basic voice memo function. It would have to be enough. She cracked open her door just a sliver. The hallway was clear, the voices louder from the main living area. She could slip out, place the phone somewhere discreet, and retrieve it later.

She took a step into the hallway, her bare feet silent on the polished wood. The floorboard near the living room archway creaked. She froze, her blood turning to ice.

The low murmur of conversation stopped.

Alessandro’s voice, sharp and clear, cut through the silence. “Everything is secure. A minor structural issue. The house settles in the cold.”

There was a grunt of acknowledgment from Don Valeri, and the conversation resumed.

Evelyn didn’t move. He had covered for her. Why?

She couldn’t abort now. Heart hammering against her ribs, she crept to a large, ornamental vase on a console table near the archway. It was far enough from the main group to avoid immediate detection, but close enough to hopefully pick up voices. She activated the record function and slid the phone deep behind the dried floral arrangement.

She turned to retreat, and found herself face to face with Alessandro.

He hadn’t come from the living room. He had come from the shadows of the hallway behind her. He must have slipped out the moment he covered for the noise.

He didn’t speak. His eyes burned with a cold fire. He grabbed her arm, his grip like steel, and pulled her swiftly and silently back into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

He pushed her against the closed door, his body caging her in, his face inches from hers. The fury rolling off him was a physical force.

“What,” he whispered, the word a venomous lash, “do you think you are doing?”

She was trembling, caught. There was no lie that would work. “I… I was scared. I wanted to know what was happening.”

“Do not lie to me,” he snarled, his voice low and brutal. “I am not one of the fools out there. You are playing a game you cannot win.” His eyes searched hers, and she saw the realization dawn in them. “They got to you. The Feds.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a death sentence.

Terror seized her, absolute and paralyzing. She was dead. Riley was dead.

But instead of pulling his gun, his grip on her arm tightened almost painfully. “Listen to me,” he hissed, his breath hot on her face. “If they find that device, if they even suspect you, there will be no trial. No prison. Vito will make an example of you. He will make you beg for death long before he grants it. And he will start with your brother in front of you.”

He was telling her the truth. The raw, unvarnished horror of her situation.

“What do I do?” The plea was torn from her, a desperate, broken sound.

His jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He was weighing options, calculating risks she couldn’t even comprehend.

“You will stay here,” he commanded, his voice dropping to an urgent, barely audible whisper. “You will not move. You will not make a sound.”

He released her and turned, slipping out of the door as silently as he’d entered.

Evelyn slid down the door to the floor, her body wracked with silent sobs. She had thrown a stone into the pond, and the ripples were about to drown her.

Minutes later, she heard it. A crash from the living room, the sound of shattering ceramic.

Don Valeri’s voice roared. “What is the meaning of this?”

Alessandro’s voice, calm and contrite, answered. “My apologies, Don Valeri. My elbow. Clumsy. The girl’s art supplies were in the way. I will have it cleaned up immediately.”

Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut. The vase. The phone. He had destroyed it. He had erased her mistake and created a plausible accident.

He had protected her.

Again.

But this time, it wasn’t about protecting an asset. This was an act of treason against his family. He had chosen a side.

And in the terrifying silence that followed, huddled on the floor of her gilded cage, Evelyn realized the most dangerous thing of all.

Her life was now irrevocably tied to the man who was both her warden and her accomplice. The devil she knew had just saved her from the fire, and in doing so, had bound her to him in a pact of blood and secrets.