Chapter 2 - The Devil’s Bargain
The transition was dizzying.
One moment, Camryn was scrubbing baseboards with bleeding knuckles.
The next, she was sitting in a velvet-lined suite in the west wing.
Her cheap gray uniform had been replaced by soft, cashmere loungewear provided by the estate.
But she felt like a prisoner.
A prisoner in a golden cage.
A knock sounded at her door.
Before she could answer, it opened.
Matteo stood in the doorway.
Without the suit jacket, with his sleeves rolled up revealing thick, tattooed forearms, he looked less like a businessman and more like the predator the streets knew him to be.
"Your mother's account at Mount Sinai has a zero balance," he said simply.
Camryn stood up, her legs trembling.
"Seventy-three thousand dollars," she whispered.
"I deposited another hundred thousand to cover the experimental treatments for the next year," he added, his voice devoid of emotion.
Tears welled in Camryn’s eyes.
She had prayed for a miracle every night for a year.
She just hadn't expected God to send a mafia boss to answer them.
"Thank you," she choked out. "Mr. DeLuca... I don't know how I can ever repay you."
Matteo stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
"You will repay me by doing exactly what I say," he said, stepping into her personal space.
He smelled of expensive scotch and danger.
"Leo hasn't slept through the night since the explosion," Matteo said, his voice softening just a fraction. "He wakes up screaming. He breaks things. He hurts himself."
Camryn remembered the little boy's desperate grip.
"But tonight," Matteo continued, staring intently at her, "he ate his dinner. Without throwing it. And when I asked him who he wanted to read him a story..."
Matteo paused.
"He pointed to the west wing."
Camryn felt a profound ache in her chest.
That poor, broken little boy.
"I don't know anything about being a nanny," she admitted honestly.
"I don't need a nanny," Matteo replied bluntly. "I had fourteen nannies with degrees in child psychology. They were useless."
He looked at the gold medallion still resting around her neck.
"He smells his mother on that metal," Matteo said quietly. "Or maybe... he senses the person who held her in her final moments. I don't believe in magic, Miss Jenkins. But I believe in whatever is keeping my son calm."
"What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"Be his shadow," Matteo commanded. "Eat with him. Play with him. Sleep in the connecting room. You do not let him out of your sight. And in exchange, your mother gets the best medical care money can buy."
It wasn't a request.
It was a bargain with the devil.
But for her mother, and for the sad little boy down the hall, Camryn would sign her soul away.
"Okay," she nodded. "I accept."
Matteo studied her face for a long moment.
He was used to women who wanted his money, his power, or his bed.
He wasn't used to a woman who looked at him with nothing but fierce, protective defiance.
"Good," he said, turning toward the door.
"Mr. DeLuca?" she called out.
He stopped, looking over his shoulder.
"The man with the scar," Camryn said nervously. "What are you going to do?"
May you like
Matteo’s eyes darkened, turning into black pools of violence.
"I am going to find out who paid him," Matteo said softly. "And then, I am going to burn their world to ash."
