The Confession

Nina Devereaux never liked the smell of rotting wood. It reminded her of cheap motels and failed cases—like the one that brought her to the decrepit warehouse in the seediest part of Miami. The air was thick with a mix of mildew and burnt chemicals, the unmistakable stench of the drug dens that had eaten away at the city’s underbelly. Her heart pounded in her chest, a reminder of her constant fear that she was always one misstep away from failure.

She’d tracked Marcus “Spider” Delgado here, her biggest lead in months. Spider was a two-bit thug, a nobody who had somehow landed himself on the radar of the city’s most dangerous crime syndicate. She figured he knew something or someone big, which is why they wanted him dead. When her contact tipped her off about his hideout, she followed the trail without a second thought. Now, standing in the crumbling warehouse, she regretted it.

Because Spider was dead.

His lifeless body slumped in a corner, riddled with bullet holes. Blood had soaked into the cracked concrete beneath him, pooling around his shoes. Nina’s stomach twisted. She didn’t have to check for a pulse to know Spider was gone.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She was too late, and worse, it looked like she’d have to answer for a murder she didn’t commit.

“Hands where I can see them.”

The voice was smooth, almost taunting, and too close for comfort. Nina turned slowly, her hand instinctively going to the gun at her waist.

Behind her stood a man, tall, lean, and disheveled, wearing a leather jacket that looked as if it had seen its fair share of scuffles. His face was hidden in the shadows, but there was no mistaking the gleam of a gun aimed at her. He didn’t look like a cop. He didn’t move like one either.

“Who the hell are you?” Nina asked, heart racing. She needed to buy time, figure out a way to get out of this mess.

“Me? Just another guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He stepped closer, revealing his face. Sharp jawline, messy dark hair, and cold, calculating eyes. The kind of eyes that had seen too much. “Name’s Cole Vega.”

Nina froze. Cole Vega was an assassin, one of the best in the business. His name alone made crime lords shudder, and here he was, right in front of her. Great. Her day just went from bad to worse.

“I didn’t kill him,” she blurted out, unsure why she felt the need to defend herself. “I was tracking him. That’s it.”

Cole’s lips curved into a half-smirk. “You think I care? I’m not the cops.”

He walked over to Spider’s body, inspecting the bullet holes with the calm of someone who’s seen plenty of dead bodies. Nina watched him closely, her mind racing. If Cole was here, it wasn’t a coincidence. But if he didn’t kill Spider, then who the hell did?

“What are you doing here?” Nina asked, shifting her weight. “If you didn’t kill him, why are you here?”

Cole shot her a look, as if deciding whether to let her in on the secret. Finally, he sighed. “Got a job. Was supposed to take this guy out.” He nudged Spider’s corpse with his boot. “But as you can see, someone beat me to it. Now I’m left cleaning up a mess.”

“So, you’re just going to… what? Take off and pretend none of this happened?” Nina narrowed her eyes.

“Not quite,” he said, his voice dropping. “See, whoever did this wanted it to look like I killed him. They wanted me framed for it. And you… well, you’re just collateral damage, sweetheart.”

Nina’s blood ran cold. Whoever killed Spider wanted them both out of the picture. “Any ideas on who did it?”

Cole chuckled darkly, tucking his gun back into his jacket. “Plenty of ideas. But none I’m willing to share with someone who might try to turn me in.”

Nina’s hand hovered near her gun again, but Cole’s relaxed stance told her that he didn’t see her as a threat. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“I’m not going to turn you in,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure why she believed that herself. “We’re both in deep. Someone’s trying to frame us both.”

He tilted his head, considering her for a moment. “You might be right.”

Before either of them could say another word, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Heavy, deliberate steps. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to hide their presence.

Cole’s demeanor shifted immediately, his rebellious swagger fading into a cold, calculating mask. He stepped toward the shadows, motioning for Nina to stay quiet. She barely had time to process what was happening before three men entered the room—clearly enforcers of some kind, their guns drawn.

“Looks like we’ve got a little problem,” one of the men sneered, eyes darting between Nina and Cole.

Nina’s mind raced. There was no way they were walking out of this alive unless…

Without thinking, she lunged for her gun, pulling the trigger in one swift motion. Two of the men dropped, but the third raised his gun, aiming directly at her.

Cole didn’t hesitate. With a single, precise shot, he took out the last man before he could even react.

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Nina’s labored breathing. She turned to Cole, who holstered his gun with a look of calm detachment.

“Looks like we’re partners now,” he said with a grin.

Nina frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Whoever’s behind this knows we’re onto them,” Cole said. “They tried to take us out together. So now we’ve got to clear both our names. And that means working together. For now.”

Nina didn’t like the sound of that, but she couldn’t deny that he had a point. As much as she didn’t trust Cole, she needed him. At least until they figured out who had set them up.

“I work alone,” Nina muttered, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” Cole said with a wink. “Not anymore.”