Chapter 1 Sell Me The Truth

• “If you’re going to shoot me, do it now. I hate waiting.”
• The man in the velvet chair didn’t blink. He just sipped his whiskey like we weren’t two seconds from killing each other.
• I didn’t flinch, even with four armed men behind me and the burn of a Glock digging into my ribs. If anything, the longer he stared, the calmer I got.
• Control is always quiet.
• “Raven Moretti.” His voice was low, lazy, lethal. “The ghost herself. You’ve been busy.”
• I smirked. “I multitask.”
• He set the glass down. No ice. No noise. Just power in human form.
• God, I hated him already.
• Jaxon Vega.
• The billionaire with blood on his boots and a bank account soaked in war crimes. Tech mogul. Mafia-born. Former heir to the Vega cartel if rumors were true and the man my mother had once warned me about with trembling hands and a bottle of vodka.
• And now, the buyer of my last piece of leverage.
• “I assume you’ve looked at the files,” I said, chin high. “So you know what’s on them.”
• “I know what they’re worth,” he replied, nodding once to one of his men.
• A thick envelope slid across the table toward me.
• I didn’t move.
• “You’re not curious?” he asked.
• “I don’t trust anything wrapped in elegance. Especially not from a Vega.”
• His mouth quirked like he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or offended.
• “Smart girl.”
• “No,” I said. “Just burned.”
• The envelope was light. Too light.
• Inside: one single photo. Of me.
• Taken that morning.
• “Cute, right?” Jaxon said, almost bored. “I like the one where you’re wiring explosives to your laptop under a diner booth.”
• My heart dropped and I masked it with a glare.
• “You were never selling those files, Raven,” he continued smoothly. “You were baiting the sharks. Trying to see who would swim toward you.”
• “You’re not denying that you’re one of them.”
• “Oh, I am one of them.” He stood. Tall. Dark suit, darker eyes. “But I’m the one that keeps you alive.”
• “Why?”
• The word fell out before I could stop it.
• His reply?
• “Because, sweetheart, you just walked into my web. And I’d rather trap you than kill you.”
• ⸻
• Flashback, 2 days earlier:
• Two nights ago, I’d gotten a message.
• Blocked number. Encrypted email. Simple terms.
• Meet me at The Vesper Club. Bring the files. No copies.
• – J
• I should’ve run.
• Instead, I wore my mother’s black coat and loaded a pistol into my boot.
• ⸻
• Back to Present:
• I didn’t sit. Didn’t blink.
• “You think I won’t blow this whole place just to take you down with me?” I asked.
• Jaxon raised an eyebrow.
• “I think you don’t want to die,” he said. “And I think you’re desperate enough to gamble.”
• He stepped close. Close enough to smell his cologne cedar and smoke.
• Close enough to feel the heat bleeding off his skin.
• “I’m offering you protection,” he said. “A deal.”
• “No one offers protection for free.”
• “You’re right. I want something.”
• He reached into his pocket.
• Pulled out a small, black flash drive.
• Not mine.
• But I recognized the engraving.
• El Diablo. My father’s codename. The last thing tying me to the family I abandoned.
• “I’ve had this for five years,” Jaxon murmured. “Encrypted. Uncrackable. Until now.”
• He held it out.
• “You give me your files. I give you this. And we call it even.”
• I hesitated.
• Because the only person who ever touched that drive… was dead.
• Or so I thought.
• “Where did you get that?”
• “I killed the man who was holding it,” he said, simply. “But the real question is… do you want what’s on it bad enough to trust me?”
• I snatched the drive from his hand.
• My fingers shook.
• Not from fear.
• From fury.
• From fire.
• He smiled.
• “You’re staying with me now,” he said, like it was already decided.
• “Excuse me?”
• “Security reasons. You just put a target on your back the size of Chicago.”
• I laughed. Cold.
• “I’ve had a target on my back since the day I was born.”
• He didn’t argue.
• Just turned and walked toward the elevator.
• “Come willingly, or I’ll carry you out,” he called over his shoulder. “Your choice.”
• I stayed rooted.
• Because the drive in my hand buzzed twice.
• Encrypted message detected.
• I knew that pattern.
• Only two people in the world had that signal.
• Me.
• And my brother.
• Who was supposed to be dead.
• The moment I stepped into Jaxon Vega’s elevator, the flash drive lit up and blinked red.
• Incoming message: DON’T TRUST HIM.
• The letters flashed red once before vanishing from the screen like they’d never existed.
• I stared down at the drive in my palm, cold metal warming against my skin.
• Impossible.
• Only one person used that encryption key.
• And he’d been buried in pieces.
• I made sure of it.
• Unless...
• “You okay?”
• Jaxon’s voice cut through my spiral like a scalpel.
• I snapped the lid on the flash drive shut and forced my face blank. “Peachy.”
• The elevator hummed upward. Fast. Quiet. Dangerous.
• Just like him.
• “Who did you kill to get this?” I asked.
• He didn’t answer.
• Typical.
• I studied his profile instead. Strong jaw, blood-borne calm, and the kind of presence that made everyone else in a room forget their name. His suit was sharp. His mouth was sharper. But his eyes?
• Dead. Absolutely dead.
• Until they landed on me.
• “You're not afraid of me,” he said. Not a question. An observation.
• “No.” I shifted slightly, one hand still on the inside of my coat, where the knife sat.
• “I’m afraid of what you make me want.”
• His eyes flicked down to my lips, then to my fingers curled in steel.
• “Violence?” he asked.
• “Control.”
• The elevator dinged.
• Penthouse. Of course.
• Doors slid open, revealing a wide, dimly lit space of black floors, dark windows, and chrome everything. Like stepping into the belly of a wolf.
• A woman in a fitted suit greeted us. “Ms. Moretti,” she said, bowing her head.
• I didn’t correct her. Didn’t remind her I stopped using that name the day I set fire to the Moretti estate.
• Jaxon stepped aside and gestured for me to enter first.
• “After you.”
• Gentlemanly. If the gentleman in question could also casually order a hit over dinner.
• I stepped in.
• Three things hit me immediately:
• The cameras. Hidden well, but I could feel their gaze.
• The silence. Like the apartment was waiting for something to break.
• The piano. A single grand piano in the center of the room, untouched but polished, like a memory someone didn’t know how to let go of.
• “This is where you keep your prisoners?” I asked, walking past him.
• “This is where I keep the people I don’t want dead.”
• He brushed past me. Close. Not touching. But enough to make every hair on my neck rise like it recognized its predator.
• He handed his jacket off to the assistant. “Room’s ready?”
• “Security system updated. Vault moved.”
• Vault?
• He didn’t elaborate.
• I turned back. “Where’s my room?”
• He smiled.
• “Left hallway, last door. No locks on your side. Three on mine.”
• Of course.
• “And if I try to leave?”
• He paused.
• “Then I’ll assume you want me to chase you.”
• I rolled my eyes and walked to the hallway. Found the room.
• Clean. Minimal. Grey sheets. Camera in the corner.
• I flicked it off with one button and slid my bag under the bed.
• Then I pulled out my second flash drive.
• Not the one he gave me.
• Mine. The original. The one I’d been trying to trade.
• And now?
• Now I had two.
• And two problems.
• I sat on the edge of the bed and synced the drives together. Cross-encryption.
• The red light on the second drive blinked once. Twice.
• Incoming File: PLAY ME
• My heart slowed.
• That voice again.
• Same key. Same code.
• I pressed play.
• “If you're seeing this… he already has you.”
• “Don’t let him near the vault.”
• “He’s not after your files, Raven. He’s after you.”
• I slammed the laptop shut.
• My hands were shaking.
• No.
• No.
• That voice.
• It wasn’t my brother.
• It was my mother’s.
• And she died right in front of me.
• The door opened.
• Jaxon stepped in without knocking.
• Of course he did.
• “Dinner’s ready.”
• I stood, keeping my expression still. “I’m not hungry.”
• He didn’t move. “That wasn’t a question.”
• “I’m not one of your bodyguards you can order around.”
• “No,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re not. You’re the wildcard I let into my house. And I don’t like surprises.”
• We stood close. Too close.
• “You’re hiding something,” I said.
• “So are you.”
• “Why am I really here?”
• He studied me.
• Then, low and quiet, almost like he hated the words.
• “Because if I didn’t bring you here... they would’ve killed you.”
• I blinked. “Who?”
• He hesitated. Just for a second. But I caught it.
• “The people who paid your father to kill your mother,” he said.
• My stomach turned.
• “What did you just say?”
• “I’ve known since the day I got that drive. And I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.” He leaned closer.
• “You're not a loose end. You’re the trigger.”
• A scream echoed from down the hall.
• Jaxon turned fast, hand already at his gun.
• “Stay here,” he snapped.
• But I was already moving.
• I wasn’t the kind of girl who stayed behind.
• Not anymore.