Chapter 15: Trapped on the Other Side

The day unfolded like a nightmare scripted by a drunk playwright.

A man named Salvatore Ricci stood trembling in my study. He owed the Brisa family $40,000. Gambling debts. He’d borrowed from the wrong sharks. Now he stood before me, sweat soaking through his cheap suit.

Antonio leaned against the wall, polishing his nails with a switchblade. “He’s got a wife, boss. Two kids.”

Ricci’s eyes pleaded. “Please. I can get the money. I just need time.”

I looked at him. Really looked. Saw the desperation. The fear. The same look Lila had given me when I’d promised her freedom.

“How?” I asked.

He blinked. “I… I have a cousin. In construction. Big job coming up. He’ll-”

“No.” Antonio cut him off. “He’s lying. We checked.”

Ricci crumpled. “Please.”

I stared at the polished mahogany desk. At the inkwell shaped like a panther. At the ledger open before me. Names. Numbers. Debts. Lives reduced to columns.

“Sixty days,” I said.

Ricci gasped. Antonio’s head snapped up.

“Sixty days,” I repeated. “Interest doubles after that.”

Ricci wept. Antonio’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

I signed the ledger. My hand felt heavy. Alien. Ricci stumbled out, babbling thanks.

Antonio waited until the door closed. “Generous.”

I didn’t look up. “He has kids.”

“So did Vincenzo.” Antonio’s voice was flat. “Remember what happened to Vincenzo?”

I could imagine what they might have done with Vincenzo. With dozens of others, probably.

“Sixty days,” I said again.

Antonio shrugged. “Your call, boss.”

He left me alone with the ledger. With the power. With the sickening weight of it. A million dollars changed hands that afternoon. A shipment of Colombian coffee diverted to a shell company I owned. A rival’s warehouse burned to the ground on my order. Lives ruined. Fortunes made. All with a flick of my pen.

I never wanted this.

I wanted to run away with the girl.

Now I didn’t even know where she was.

The Hotel Mirasol hadn’t changed. Same velvet drapes. Same scent of expensive perfume and desperation. Same low thrum of jazz from the quartet.

They seated me in the private booth. Red leather. Sticky from spilled champagne.

Antonio slid in beside me. “Relax, boss. Enjoy the view.”

The view was women. Dozens of them. Gliding through the dim light like exotic fish in an aquarium. Silk dresses shimmering. Laughter like broken glass.

Two joined us immediately. Sophia, with eyes like dark honey, and Elena, whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. They draped themselves over me. Sophia traced a finger along my jawline. “Long day, Boss?”

I stiffened. “Busy.”

Elena giggled, pouring champagne. “We’ll make it better.”

Antonio laughed, pulling another girl onto his lap. “That’s the spirit!”

I scanned the room. Of all the Brisa businesses, this was the one I had known the least about coming in. It was also the one I was coming to despise the most.

Then I saw her.

Across the bar, near the grand piano. Lila. Wearing a dress of emerald green silk that clung to her like water. Hair piled high, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. She was laughing. Tossing her head back. Flirting with a man I recognized from both of my lives - Councilman Harlan Reed. A bloated toad in an expensive suit. His hand rested possessively on her bare arm.

She leaned in, whispering something in his ear. He threw back his head and roared with laughter, squeezing her waist.

My knuckles whitened on the champagne flute.

Antonio followed my gaze. He whistled softly. “A right natural.” He nudged me. “That Reed account? Gold mine. She’s got him wrapped tighter than a mummy.”

Lila glanced up.

Our eyes met across the smoky room.

Her laughter died. The dazzling smile froze, then shattered. For one raw, unguarded moment, her mask slipped. I saw terror. Betrayal. A silent scream trapped behind her eyes. She looked haunted. Lost.

Then it was gone. Smoothed over. Like ripples vanishing on a poisoned pond. She touched Reed’s hand, guiding it suggestively higher on her thigh. Her smile returned, brighter than before. Artificial. Terrifying.

Antonio chuckled. “Hey now, boss. Eyes off the merchandise. Let her earn her keep.” He winked. “Plenty more where she came from.”

I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. The champagne tasted like ash.

How? The question screamed silently in my skull. How did saving her lead her here?

I thought back. To the Villette by the sea. The desperation in her eyes. Her trembling hands clutching mine. How I had overlooked it all in the heat of the moment. In my need to have her. In my overconfidence that I was actually promising her an escape.

Instead I’d delivered her straight into the lion’s den. After extracting my own pound of flesh. Because I was weak. Because I wore the skin of a monster and didn’t know how to tear it off. Had barely tried.

Antonio misinterpreted my silence. He leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, boss. She’s just warming up. Reed’s a big fish, but he’s not the only one lining up. Word’s out. Fresh meat. Prime cut.” He grinned, swirling his drink. “You picked a winner.”

Winner.

The word echoed in the hollow space where my conscience used to be. Lila laughed again across the room. High. Bright. Empty. A perfect imitation of joy. Reed’s hand disappeared beneath the emerald silk.

I closed my eyes.

But the image burned behind my lids. The haunted look. The mask snapping back into place. The politician’s greedy fingers. Cole Vane, detective, was drowning. Drowning in velvet and lies and the suffocating stench of his own failure. Trapped in the gilded cage of Don Brisa. Was there still a chance to escape? Had there ever even been one, or had I deluded myself from the moment that damn brass mirror sent me to hell.

Thoughts pounded in my head. How I could change the Brisa family. Step by step. Bring their businesses into the light. End their predation on the city's ****. Was I strong enough? Was even the Don strong enough to course correct at this stage?

I looked across the bar at Lila once again.

I didn't know if I was strong enough. But I had to try.

The jazz played on. The champagne flowed. The women laughed.

THE END (FOR NOW)