Chapter 4

Alejandro woke with his head pounding and his wrists bound to the headboard with thick cuffs, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light as the room came into focus and a figure seated by the window gradually revealed himself to be Damon.

"You took your time," Damon remarked coolly as Alejandro flexed his wrists with a low strained grunt, his body pulling against the cuffs but they held him firmly in place.

"You devil," he hissed in anger as he pushed forward again, the chains tightening and refusing to give while his glare locked onto him.

Damon stood and crossed the room with predatory ease. "Correction. I neutralized a threat." His eyes scanned his restrained form, sharp and assessing. "FBI agents are pests. You, however... interest me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alejandro snapped, his eyes tracking him as he moved, refusing to miss a single step.

The door opened and one of Damon's men walked in, stopping halfway into the room.

"Sir... Il Padrino è qui. Dice che lei deve venire da lui."

Sir... The Godfather is here. He says you are to come to him.

Damon did not look away from Alejandro, his gaze still locked on his as silence stretched between them, tension tightening the air.

"You never lie," Damon said calmly, almost amused, as he slowly straightened to his feet. "Indeed... you have my attention now."

"And you..." he added after a pause, his voice lowering slightly, "are dangerous."

He scoffed lightly, blinking lazily away from him as he turned toward the door. "Next time you walk into a place like this, you should ask what kind of hell you're stepping into. A den and hell are not the same thing. Mistaking them is your first mistake. Do not repeat it."

Alejandro struggled against the cuffs again, scanning the room sharply as he noticed two exits, both guarded, and only then did he realize his earpiece was gone.

◈MINUTES LATER◈

The door opened again, dragging his attention toward it as Damon walked in with a slim black folder in his hands before stopping directly in front of him.

"Let us discuss your options," Damon began as he tossed the folder onto the bed, and Alejandro's eyes flicked down to it before returning to him, his defiance still intact despite the tightening tension in his chest.

The folder flipped open, revealing surveillance photos of him at the FBI, with Agent Luca, and images of him tracking his men.

"I know everything," Damon stated calmly, a quiet satisfaction in his tone. "Your operation, your superiors, and how careless your people have become."

Alejandro remained silent, his chest rising steadily as he held his gaze without looking away, refusing to give him the reaction he seemed to be waiting for, and Damon watched him just as carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly when he continued to meet his stare.

"You have two choices," Damon continued, slipping one hand into his pocket as he circled slowly around the room. "Work for me or disappear."

A rough laugh left him before he shook his head.

"Oh, sorry," he said, amusement lingering in his voice while his attention remained fixed on him. "That sounded informal."

Alejandro's jaw clenched as he stared back at him.

"Over my dead body."

Damon chuckled quietly as he stopped beside the bed, his gaze settling on his face while the amusement in his eyes lingered for a moment before something darker replaced it.

A brief silence settled between them, thick and suffocating.

"I can make that possible," he replied, and the smile on his lips never reached his eyes. "This was never a negotiation."