Making a deal with the devil

The man stopped breathing before he stopped begging.

Vito Scaletta didn't watch the end.

He stepped away from the warehouse floor, shrugging into his coat as if nothing had happened. Fear was a tool. Once it was spent, it was useless.

Outside, the night was sharp with rain.

"The Cardinis want confirmation," Vincent said as he fell into step beside him. "The marriage. They're pressing."

Vito exhaled slowly. "I don't need a wife."

"It would solidify the banks. The docks."

"I said no."

Vincent hesitated. "She's been raised out of it. Sheltered."

Vito stopped walking.

Sheltered meant fragile. Fragile meant weakness.

"I won't chain myself to someone else's liability," Vito said coldly. "I won't take responsibility for a woman who doesn't understand this world."

Vincent studied him. "Her name is Aubrielle. Elle."

Vito dismissed it with a wave of his hand and opened the car door. "Find another solution."

The engine turned over.

As the car pulled away, the city stretched endlessly ahead-dark, obedient, his.

Somewhere within it lived a woman he had no interest in meeting.

And that, Vito Scaletta would later realize, was the first lie he ever told himself.