A Deal with the Devil's Heir

As she raced, the cold night air stinging at her skin and her breath coming in loud, frightened gasps, she could hear her father's remarks, which were as deadly as the booze on his breath. "You're worthless, just like your mother." She gritted her teeth and ducked into the tight alley, the sound of footsteps behind her driving her onward.

"Please, let me find somewhere to hide," she muttered. As she slid around the bend and collided with a wall of muscle, her heart pounded. Before she could collapse, ironclad hands clamped down on her arms.

She gasped and gazed up into the icy, calculating eyes of a stranger. "You shouldn't be here." His voice was low and powerful and lethal.

Sienna's breath froze, and she snatched her arm back, panicking. "Let me go!"

The man did not move. His black eyes gazed at her with an unbreakable demeanor. "Whom are you running from?"

"It's none of your business!" She struggled against his grip, but it was ineffective. He was solid and unmoving, and his strength was amazing.

"When it comes to my streets, everything is my business."

Her gaze expanded. "Your streets...?" Then she realized. The rumors. The whispers of the man who dominated the criminal underworld of the city. Vincenzo Falcone. Her blood turned to ice. "You are—"

"Vincenzo Falcone," he said, finishing, his gaze still on hers. “Answer me now. Whom are you running from?”

Sienna glanced down the alley, where her father's thugs were still after her. They were getting closer, and she could hear them shouting in the distance. Her words were, "It doesn't matter."

His hand became a little tighter. Sufficient to draw her gaze back to him. "I only ask once."

She blurted out, her voice trembling, "It’s my father. His men are trying to get me. If you do not let me leave, they will—.

"What will they do?" A faint, icy smile could be seen on his lips."Hurt me?" The more he spoke, the colder his tone became. "I'm not the one who should be worried," he added.

Sienna's heart shook. She knew the reputation of this man. In spite of the ruthlessness he was known for, she saw something else in his gaze that made her spine prickle with fear. The acute interest was as if he was debating what to do with her.

"You don't know them," she whispered in a quivering voice. "They'll kill me if I don't return."

He silently studied her for a long moment before speaking again. "So, why are you running?"

Her mouth became dry. "Because I would rather risk my life here than go with them."

Clearly fascinated, he raised an eyebrow. "And why should I give a damn?" Sienna hesitated, a stab of fear piercing her neck. “You shouldn’t.”

"So, Piccola, why are you still here?" He asked in a low voice, a subtle threat cloaked in velvet. "Why haven't you run yet if you're so eager to get away?"

She swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes. "Because you won't let me."

A sly smirk twisted his lips. "Smart girl."

The sound of footsteps approached before she could finish speaking, causing her heart to lurch into her throat. The foot soldiers of her father are nearly upon her. "Please," she murmured, her gaze flitting to the alley's mouth. “I have to go."

Enzo released his grip on her arm, but he didn't back off. He kept his black eyes on her. “Go ahead; I won't stop them from taking you. Stay, and I'll take care of them myself.”

She let out a gasp. "Why would you help me?"

His gaze flickered down the alley, shadows growing closer. "Because I can’t stand cowards who prey on the weak."

Sienna trembled, uncertain of her decision, but she knew what would happen if she went back. Her heart pounded in her chest as she inhaled deeply and stood still. Enzo mumbled, "That's what I thought."

In a matter of seconds, two of her father's men appeared; one of them stepped forward, pointing at her while growling. "Look there, you little—" They froze when they saw Enzo; their faces lit up with recognition.

The taller one stammered, his confidence faltering, "Mr. Falcone." "We didn't know that she was—"

"Leave." Despite Enzo's calm tone, there was a faint abrasiveness in his voice.

The two men exchanged glances, clearly uncertain. "We have orders," the shorter one said shakily. "Her father—"

"I don't care about your orders." Coldly, Enzo's voice drifted off. "Before I make you regret ever entering my streets, you have three seconds to turn around and vanish."

The taller man took a big breath and stepped back. "But—"

"Three." The men hesitated in obvious fear.

"Two." Without another word, they stumbled over themselves and fled into the darkness, leaving Sienna breathless.

He turned back to her, his face blank. "You're coming with me."

Sienna, still stunned by what had happened, blinked. "I-I can't."

"You will," he replied simply, in a tone that left no room for debate.

When she said, "Why?" her voice was hardly audible.

He stepped closer, his black eyes meeting hers. "Because I just saved your life, Piccola. Now I own it.”

Before Sienna could react, engines thundered down the lane. Several black SUVs raced to a stop at the entrance, doors clanging as armed men sprang out.

Her heart pounded, and her stomach twisted into knots. Enzo's expression shifted as his hand slipped absently inside his jacket, where she knew he carried a gun.

"Looks like your father isn't done," he muttered, a gloomy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "This should be interesting."