Trading Souls to the Mafia King

I could see Wisley looking at me with a small grin, holding out a piece of chocolate he had stolen from the convenience store.

"Don't tell me you still have doubts about us," he said, his eyes full of his signature confidence.

I accepted the chocolate, even though I knew we shouldn't be here. We had a darker world to live in-a world that demanded we trust no one.

But back then, I wanted to think that Wisley was an exception. That maybe, just maybe, with him I could find something more than just survival.

"If I leave," I whispered, "will you come with me?"

He didn't answer. Just smiled faintly before pulling me into his warm embrace.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that all of this was real.

However, the memories suddenly fell apart. His warm gaze turned cold. His smile faded away. In an instant, the sweet chocolate in my hand turned into a gun pressed against my forehead.

"Why, Wisley?"

I jerked awake.

Sunlight streamed through the small window of this cheap room, piercing my eyes.

Breathing heavily, cold sweat beaded down my neck. My chest rose and fell rapidly, as if my lungs refused to accept that I was still alive.

The pain in my arm was still there—sharp and piercing. My lips were dry, my body limp.

But that's not what's bothering my mind right now.

The damn dream!

I take a deep breath.

Hormones. It must just be the pregnancy hormones.

I'm not an emotional person. I've survived this far with a cool head, running away from their pursuit, suppressing all the fear and pain as if it wasn't mine.

But now?

I suddenly feel... homesick.

Stupid.

My hand touches my still-flat stomach. I couldn't feel him yet, but I knew he was there. The little heart that beats at the same time as mine.

Wisley's child.

Was I supposed to tell him?

I bite my lip. I knew this was a bad idea. Wisley wasn't someone I could trust. Not after everything that happened. Not after I saw him with Rachel.

But still...

I reach into the bag on the side of the bed, pulling out the disposable cell phone I keep for emergencies.

This wasn't an emergency. I knew that.

But why did I still turn it on?

My hands tremble as I type in a number I don't even need to see anymore. I could just throw this phone away right now, go back to my plan, disappear without a trace like I should. But my fingers are already moving faster than my brain.

The first ring.

I can turn it off now. I can still-

Second ring.

Shit.

Third ring.

I hold my breath.

Click.

Someone picked it up.

My words tumbled out without me being able to stop them. "Wisley, I'm carrying your child-"

The female laughter on the other side sounded light, almost playful, but enough to make my entire body tense up.

It wasn't Wisley who picked up the call.

"Cassie, dear... do you really want to tell him?"

Rachel.

My blood froze.

My hand gripped the phone tighter.

"Where's Wisley?" my voice was hoarse.

"Taking a shower," she replied casually. "Should I tell him to come out?"

I held my breath.

Rachel giggled. "I want to confess something to you. I actually never carried Wisley's child. I only said that so he wouldn't kill me. I loved him. I didn't want him to leave. And you know what's even funnier? We met a month ago... alcohol makes things easier, you know?"

I felt something hit my chest.

"You're lying."

Rachel giggled again. "The funny thing is, Wisley believed me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"He said you're not like me," Rachel sighed contentedly. "Not as pretty as me. Not as graceful as me. He could never even imagine you wearing a dress like me. Oh, and one more thing..."

I heard her sly laughter before she lowered her voice.

"I still remember the look on his face when he saw the photos of you and Max Nolan."

I gripped the phone tighter. "What...?"

Rachel laughed. "That photo was very real, Cassie. Do you know how easy it is to make a man like him believe?"

I hung up instantly, throwing the phone across the room as if it could erase the fact that I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

I shouldn't have called.

***

Three days and three nights I've been hiding in this hotel while waiting for my body condition to improve, but I need to see the situation outside.

Finally, tonight I forced myself out. I wore a black hoodie, hiding my face as far as possible.

As I walked through the city, slipping into dark alleys, something made me stop.

It was a flyer taped to the corner of a wall.

My blood froze.

My face.

Big and clear.

And next to it, Wisley's face.

"Fugitive," it said in large letters. "Dangerous. Report if you see them."

I bit my lip. No wonder the streets felt more dangerous tonight. Not just the police, but the underworld was after me.

Max Nolan has connections with the higher-ups. As long as I was a member of the group, the police would turn a blind eye to the crimes Nolan ordered.

But now? Nolan considers me a traitor. That means I'm not only being hunted by the law, but also by bounty hunters who want to extract a huge reward from Nolan.

They want my head. They want Wisley's too.

But I knew the difference.

They wanted Wisley alive.

They wanted me dead.

I took a deep breath, stroking my still flat stomach.

No one can catch me.

I must continue to survive.

But just as I turned into a dark alley to head for the secret locker storing my spare weapons, something else caught my eye-a group of men stood in the corner, talking in low tones.

Their gazes were directed at me, and then I realized something that made my heart beat faster.

They weren't just looking.

They recognized me.

Before I could react, a hand grabbed my arm from behind.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Look who's still breathing," the voice mocked.

I didn't recognize them. But I knew that they weren't Thomas's men, probably crazier people-bounty executors or bounty hunters.

"Max Nolan wants you taken dead or alive," one of them approached, the muzzle of a gun pointed at my forehead. "But if you resist, we can have some fun first, right?"

I didn't answer. I waited.

When he was close enough, I made my move.

My hand snatched the gun, twisting his wrist in the wrong direction. He screamed as he heard a crack. Quickly, I thrust the knife into his stomach, twisting roughly before pulling it out.

Blood spurted onto my face. He staggered, then fell.

"Damn it, she killed Hector," one of them hissed.

I didn't have time to process the incident when someone slammed into my stomach from the side.

Something worse happened.

Excruciating pain radiated through my body. I screamed.

Then, everything went dark.

But before I lost consciousness completely, I heard something.

"Are we taking him to Max Nolan?" someone asked.

"No," another voice replied.

I felt my hands being cuffed.

Then, the voice came again.

"Our mission isn’t just to capture her. Frances wants to make sure she loses the baby first."

My blood froze.

Rachel.

This was all her doing.

But before I could process everything, another voice spoke-colder, more menacing.

"She killed one of Nostra's men. Let's just turn her over to Stilliam."

I knew that name.

Anyone who worked in the underworld would know Stilliam's name.