Chapter 3: The Trap Tightens
Lila Voss ducked a punch, her sneakers squeaking on the safehouse floor. Damon Creed circled her, eyes glinting, his black shirt clinging to his muscles. “Faster,” he snapped, throwing another jab. She dodged, heart pounding, and swung back, her fist grazing his jaw. He grinned, catching her wrist. “Not bad, Voss. You’re trouble.” His voice was low, teasing, and her cheeks burned. She pushed hard, stifling the thud in her chest. This was not going to be about Damon's charisma. This was about Marco, Tessa, and the empire she was going to reduce to smoldering ruin.
The safehouse was tight, with stenches of sweat and leather, a boxing ring, and one broken window overlooking Crestfall's sea. Lila had slept little enough since the fight last night at The Black Orchid. Marco had witnessed her alive when he thought she'd been murdered. Tessa's smile tormented her, and Sofia's letter—Tessa conspired with your downfall—had infuriated her. Her so-called best friend hadn't taken just her fiancé; she'd required her to be eliminated. Lila's hands were clenched into fists. She'd get revenge on both of them.
"Focus," Damon told her, throwing her a bottle of water. "You got the name and the shipment off the dock. Good job. Marco knows we got his crates on Tuesday, round him up. Ready?"
Lila nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’m ready.” Her voice was hard, but her insides twisted. Spying was one thing; hitting a mafia shipment was another. She thought of the cliff, Marco’s shove, the cold waves below. She’d survived. She could do this.
Damon came, his cologne overpowering. "You're braver than you look," he said to her, his eyes locked on hers. "Don't make me a disappointment." His smile caused her to falter, but she took a step back carefully. Damon was a kingpin, not a friend. She didn't think his flirting, not after Marco's betrayal.
A door creaked, and a new voice cut in. “She won’t last a week.” Lila turned, seeing a lean man in a leather jacket, his dark hair slicked back. He smirked, tossing a knife between his hands. “Nico Reyes,” he said, eyeing her. “Heard you’re Damon’s new toy.”
Lila’s jaw tightened. “I’m nobody’s toy,” she snapped. Nico laughed, but his eyes were cold, calculating. Damon waved him off, but Nico stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’ve got Marco’s bank records. Want them? Betray Creed, and they’re yours.”
Her breath caught. Records would kill Marco first. But to betray Damon? She glared at him, his back to her, shouting orders at a thug. Nico approached her from behind, his voice an icy whisper. "Tessa faked your death, not just Marco. Made a deal with a rival clan. Proof needed? Let go of Damon."
Lila’s fists clenched, rage surging. Tessa, her best friend since high school, had set her up to die. She wanted to grab Nico’s knife and storm Tessa now. But his smirk screamed trap. “I’ll think about it,” she lied, stepping back. Nico winked, slipping out, leaving her shaken.
Her phone rang—Marco: Be at the diner. Now. Her stomach fell. He'd figured out that she was still alive, and this was a test. She passed on the message to Damon, shaking. "He's trying to get me to react," she explained.
Damon's eyes turned black. "Go on, obedient little fiancée. Evan'll take care of you." He waved over his shoulder toward the corner where Evan Holt, his arms crossed over his chest, looked at her. His warm, brown eyes penetrated hers reassuringly, such as last night, when he had pulled her away from the club. She pounded with the drumbeat oddly inside her heart, and stepped away, back to the plot.
"Beware," Damon warned her, his hand trailing down her arm, possessive. "Marco is desperate." She jumped at his touch, but it was tame compared to Evan's gentle force. She nodded, grabbing her jacket, and she departed with Evan behind her.
The diner was a filthy hole-in-the-wall, grease and coffee smell. Marco sat in a booth, his oily black hair, his plastic smile. Lila's skin crawled, but she scooted in across from him, trying to smile. "Hey," she said, her voice sickly, like the old Lila who adored him.
Marco's eyes were ice. "Where were you last night?" he growled, leaning forward. "I saw you at the club. With Creed's men." His voice was venom, slashing.
Lila's heart raced, but she laughed, metallic and glittering. "I was drunk, Marco. Dancing. You know I'd never betray you." The lie burned on her lips, but she raised her eyes to his, daring him to believe.
He leaned back, not smiling. “You better not. We’re getting married tomorrow. Don’t mess it up.” His hand gripped hers, too tight, and she fought a flinch. She thought of Tessa, plotting her death, and wanted to scream.
A shadow moved past the window outside—Evan. He was a comfort. She withdrew her hand, standing. "I won't," she said, and her voice was hard. "See you at the altar." She left, her legs shaking, feeling Marco's eyes behind her.
Evan caught her in the alley, jaw locked. "You did great," he snarled, low tone. His hand stroked past hers, warm and fast, and her heart pounded, aside from Damon's brief flash. "He's paranoid," Evan continued. "Watch yourself.".
Lila nodded, her phone ringing—Damon: Good bluff. Safehouse, now. And another one—Sofia: Hacked Marco's email. Tessa meeting a rival tonight. Proof she framed you. Blood was running through Lila's rage as Tessa's fraud was real, and the dock shipment had been her chance to strike back.
Vera called as Lila and Evan headed to the safehouse. “Marco’s crates are moving Tuesday,” Vera said, voice sharp. “Big deal, untraceable guns. Hit it, and he’s done. But watch out—Tessa’s got allies.”
Lila hung up, gripping her phone. She looked at Evan, his steady gaze grounding her. “We’re hitting the docks,” she said, voice hard. “Marco and Tessa are finished.”
Evan's smile was forced, genuine. "You're tougher than you look," he said, like Damon but without the bite, the warmth. Her heart lurched, and she pushed it away. No space for feelings—not with Marco's noose closing around her and Tessa's blade in her back.
Damon stood outside the safehouse, his eyes gleaming as Lila entered. "Planning set?" he inquired, tossing the map of the docks in front of her. Evan was beside her, an arm around her shoulder, and Damon's eyes traveled between them, his face a thin line. Lila dispelled the tension, spreading out the map. Her hands shook but her voice remained firm. "Let's get this over with."
Crestfall's lights shone outside, concealing its danger. Lila was not the girl who'd fallen, for she'd become a warrior with Damon's cunning, Evan's strength, and her rage. Marco's kingdom would break, Tessa would be hurt, and Nico's deal could wait. She'd write her fate, starting in the piers. The war was approaching, and Lila was approaching to destroy.