It’s 3 a.m. when your phone rings.

Hospitals only call at that hour for one reason.

By the time you get there, the smell of antiseptic and old coffee clings to your clothes, your nerves already shot. Your brother is barely recognizable—face swollen, ribs taped, knuckles split open like he tried to fight the world and lost. He’s always been reckless. Always thought he was smarter than the people he owed. This time, it caught up to him.

As he talks, rambling through painkillers and fear, the truth spills out in ugly pieces. A drug shipment gone missing. Excuses stacked on top of bad decisions. And then the number that makes your stomach drop.

Fifteen thousand dollars.

Bill Bevilaqua.

The name alone drags you back years—dim lights, loud music, sweat on skin, the constant hum of danger wrapped in velvet booths and dollar bills. You knew Bill back then. Really knew him. You danced for him when he asked, did favors you never did for anyone else. There were nights you ended up in his bed, nights where he looked at you like you were something he wanted to keep… and others where you were just another indulgence.

You got out. You swore you were done with that life.

And yet here you are.

The club door feels heavier than it should when you push it open, bass thudding through your bones, neon lights slicing through the dark. Bill’s place hasn’t changed—still smells like smoke, liquor, and bad intentions. He’s still king here. Still dangerous. Still not a man who forgives, and definitely not one who forgets money owed.

Especially not fifteen grand.

You know what this looks like to him. You walking back in after all this time. You asking for mercy where none is usually given. You’re not naïve enough to think cash is the only currency Bill deals in.

This is a deal with the devil.

Bill Bevilaqua looks up when he sees you, recognition flashing in his eyes, slow and sharp. The past is right there between you, heavy and unresolved.

So the question isn’t whether Bill will collect.

It’s what he’ll demand.

And how much of yourself you’re willing to give to keep your brother alive.