Chapter 4 A Deal With The Devil

Raynelle

I had never seen a black card in twenty six fucking years of my life.

That little card that laid inconspicuously on my coffee table was the answer to all my financial problems.

“Payment plan?” I reiterated, staring at the half dressed man that reclined on my couch like he didn't have a life threatening injury.

“You heard me clearly the first time.”

I scoffed, sliding the card back. I was stupid, but not that stupid. “No, thank you.”

Every single thing about this man screamed danger. A lurking predator lying wait for his prey.

He raised a brow. The dim lighting illuminated his perfectly chiseled features– he was undoubtedly handsome, that was until the next words left his lips.

“You clearly need it. At least your mother does.”

I felt a vein pop in my forehead. “You were eavesdropping?” I asked, the room went deathly silent.

“Not necessarily.” He gestured around the room. “Your house is the size of a shoebox.”

“I'm sorry, your highness.” I glanced at my living room, he wasn't lying… but. “I didn't know dying people had preferences.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You said it yourself. Chemo is expensive. You need the money-”

“If I need the money, I know where to get it.” I snapped, slamming my laptop shut.

“If you're strong enough to argue, then you're strong enough to get out of my goddamn apartment.”

I pointed at the door. “It's the size of a shoebox. You should be able to find your way out.”

His dark orbs burned into my skin, “From a bank? With your situation, no bank would give you the money in time.”

I was seething. The nerves of this man. “Why don't you just mind your damn business? Is that so hard to do?”

Now I know why somebody slashed him so hard across his chest. If I had a gun, I'd fire a bullet in his heart without a second thought.

“Then make it my business.” He leaned forward, clasping his hand together. “I'd like to propose a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

I took a long gulp from a glass of water. I was going to need all the energy I could get for this one.

“And you'll think I'm going to listen to your ‘mutually beneficial arrangement’,” I air quoted,

“You have been nothing but a pain in the ass since I met you. I'd rather drive through downtown Brooklyn and risk getting murdered than spend another second listening to you.”

“I should've gone through that route in the first place.” I muttered under my breath.

“I'll pay the bills. All of it.” He started. “Your mother's chemo treatment. Your sister's fees, the student loans. Every. Single. One.”

I took a deep breath. He was getting to me. “What's in it for you?”

“I need your help.”

My lips rose in a mocking smirk, “With money like that. I'm pretty sure you don't.”

“I do.” He answered sharply. “I need you to take care of me till I'm better.”

“You already look better.”

“Completely.” He added, sliding the card towards me. “I can't walk around with a wound like this. I'd be dead before I made it to the subway.”

“Then you don't need me.” I slid the card back, “You need a hospital for your stitches.”

“No hospital.”

He had said that like a million times. “Why not?”

“Hospitals leave records.” He replied, his eyes narrowing. “You won't.”

“You sound very sure of that.” I chewed at my bottom lips, assessing him.

He was suspicious. His vendetta against hospitals, the black card. It was very clear that he wasn't an ordinary person.

A gangster? A part of the mafia?

Normal people didn't have deep diagonal slashes and pull out black cards from a leather jacket in the middle of the night.

“I am.” He leaned back into the sofa. “What do you say, Ray.”

My eyes snapped open. “What did you just call me?”

“The walls have ears, Porcospino.” He smiled, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. “What do you say?”

Was this a threat? If he really was a dangerous man, he already knew my name and profession. Finding me wouldn't take more than a snap of his finger.

“Why should I trust you?” I asked, clenching my fists. “You've not given me a reason to.”

My eyes flickered over to his wound, a hint of red seeped through the dressing.

Shit, he already moved too much. No Raynelle, you shouldn't care.

“I know you think I'm dangerous.” His dark eyes met mine. “I am. But we both need each other now.”

At least he was being honest. “Just don't bring any of your drama over to my life. Do you understand?”

“I won't.”

There was a long, awkward silence before I finally spoke.

“What's your name?” I cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “Don't even think about lying.”

He sighed. “It’s only fair I tell you mine. I'm Lucien.”

“No last name?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Now,” he paused, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “That’s a secret I can't tell.”

I stared at the black card on the table.

This was a bad idea, a very bad one. I knew it. But I had always made bad decisions. What's one more?

This time, Mom needed it, Harlow needed it and I needed it. We were drowning in a sea of debt and this card was literally a life boat.

“What do you say?” He prodded, “Do we have an agreement?”

The last bit of my sanity warned me against it. ‘He could be a killer for all we know.’

My phone lit up with a new notification. Harlow.

Have you booked a flight yet?

Hurry up.

I need you here, Ray

I turned towards Lucien. “I'll accept an upfront.”

His lips rose in a smile as soon as I agreed. “Here's the password.”

What the hell did I just get myself into?