Chapter 3 The Devil’s Bargain

My whole body went completely still. The sound of my real name coming out of his mouth felt like a bucket of ice water poured straight over my head.

My breath caught in my chest, and for three long seconds, I forgot how to move, how to speak, or how to act like the girl named Cherry.

I pulled my hand back, stepping away from him on the stage. "I don't know who you're talking about."

Demetrius didn't move an inch. His dark eyes tracked my movement, a slow, dangerous look settling over his face. "Save it, Iris. The fake name might work on Nadia, but it doesn't work on me."

"You have the wrong person," I said, my voice shaking slightly despite how hard I tried to keep it steady.

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small black flash drive, and tossed it onto the stage floor right near my feet. "My security team traced seven different breaks into our main network over the last three weeks. You bypassed our firewall, accessed our shift logs, and pulled camera feeds from my private office. You're good with computers, I'll give you that."

I stared down at the drive, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides.

"Sometimes you're just not fast enough," Demetrius continued, stepping closer to the stage edge. "We found your location two days ago. We know about your office job, we know where you live with your uncle, and we know who your father was. Everyone makes mistakes, Iris."

The room was dead silent. Knowing my cover was completely blown, I stopped trying to hide behind the act. I wiped the timid look off my face and stared straight into his dark eyes.

"If you already knew who I was, why let me come here?" I asked, my voice cold. "Why let me dance on your stage?"

"Because I wanted to see how far Arthur Fernandez's daughter was willing to go," he replied smoothly, taking a slow step toward the side stairs. 

"You killed him," I snapped, the anger finally breaking through my fear. "You sent someone to put a bullet in my father's chest! You did it because he put your father in prison!"

Demetrius stopped at the top of the stage steps. His eyes burned into mine, and he let out a low, dark laugh. It sent a sudden shiver running down my spine.

"Is that really what you think happened?" he asked, closing the distance between us.

He stopped right in front of me. He was much taller than me, his imposing frame casting a deep shadow over my small body. Being this close to him made my pulse race wildly, my chest rising and falling as the heat radiating off his body wrapped around me.

"I hated your old man, yes," Demetrius said, his tone shockingly calm as his eyes drifted down to my mouth before rising back to my eyes. "He was loud, annoying, and far too proud for his own good. But I didn't kill him. In fact, I paid him."

I blinked, thoroughly confused. "What?"

"I hired your father through a private middleman," Demetrius explained, stepping even closer until there was barely any space left between us. "I gave him the exact financial records he needed to make sure my father stayed in prison forever. It was a move to take control of this syndicate without my old man interfering."

"You... you betrayed your own father?"

"My father was weak and driving this family into the ground," Demetrius said flatly. "And the old man died two weeks after he entered that prison cell anyway. So if I wanted revenge for him being behind bars, I'm a little late, don't you think? I had no reason to touch Arthur."

I stared up at him, my head spinning. The story made sense with the timeline in the files, but looking at his dangerous face, I didn't know what to believe. "You're lying to me."

"I don't need to lie to you, Iris," he said softly. He reached out, his thumb lightly brushing against the side of my jaw. The unexpected warmth of his touch sent an electric shock through my veins, making my breath hitch. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it past the back alley tonight. I'm telling you the truth because I need your skills."

"My skills?" I echoed, unable to break his intense eye contact.

"The person who killed your father didn't just break into his office for money. They were looking for something specific. And three days ago, someone tried using your father's old encrypted clearance codes to break into my private financial accounts."

I froze. "Someone else has his codes?"

"Yes," Demetrius said, his gaze locking onto mine with a possessive intensity that made my heart hammer against my ribs. "Which means whoever murdered your father is using his work to target me now. You want to find out who pulled the trigger on your dad, and I want to eliminate whoever is touching my money. So here is my offer."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, rough whisper against my ear.

"Work for me," he said. "Use your tech talents to track down the trail left by your father's killer. In return, I will give you full protection, access to my resources, and the person responsible when we find them."

I looked at him, torn between the raw danger surrounding him and the undeniable pull drawing me in. "You want me to work for the mafia?"

"You stepped into my world the moment you put on this dress, Iris," he replied, his hand sliding down from my jaw to grip the back of my neck gently, holding me in place. "And there's one more condition."

"What condition?" I whispered, my heart beating so fast I could barely breathe.

"You can't be seen running around my offices as just a worker," he said. "You will pose as my fake fiancée."

I gaped at him, completely stunned. "Your fiancée? Are you insane? People know my father was a prosecutor!"

"Nobody knows Arthur Fernandez had a daughter," Demetrius reminded me softly, his thumb rubbing a slow circle against the skin of my neck, sending shivers trailing down my back. "Your dad hid you so well that you don't exist on public records. If you're my fiancée, my men will guard you with their lives, and my enemies won't dare touch you without starting a war."

"And if I say no?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

Demetrius tilted his head, a dark, dangerous look passing through his eyes as his grip tightened just enough to pull me an inch closer to his chest.

"You can try," he whispered, his face inches from mine. 

I stood there on the empty stage, shivering in my thin outfit, pinned under his intense, heavy gaze. The fear was real, but so was the fierce, terrifying spark between us. He was dangerous, but he was the only way I was going to get justice for my father.

 I said, as I looked straight into his eyes. "I'll do it."