The Final Deal

The neon lights flickered overhead as Detective Leo Vargas stepped into the back alley. The air was thick with smoke and the faint scent of stale alcohol. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here—this part of the city had a habit of pulling him back. People didn’t disappear without leaving a trace, but sometimes, those traces were more like shadows.

Tonight was different. Tonight, the shadow had a name.

Leo’s target was Jimmy “The Fish” Falconi, a small-time dealer who’d recently been involved in a bigger game. Word on the street was that Falconi had been trying to move up in the ranks, but someone wasn’t letting him.

Leo’s phone buzzed. It was a message from his informant. “Meet me at the pier. Falconi’s here. He’s making a deal. Big one.”

He didn’t hesitate.

The pier was deserted when he arrived, only the sound of waves crashing against the wooden beams. Under the dull light of a single hanging bulb, a group of men gathered around a small wooden table, exchanging something Leo couldn’t quite see from his vantage point. He crouched behind a stack of crates, waiting, his breath steady.

Through the shadows, Leo could make out Jimmy Falconi—short, wiry, with a nervous tick in his eye. He was handing something over to a taller man, a figure Leo hadn’t seen before. But the way the taller man moved, with the kind of confidence only a seasoned criminal could possess, made Leo’s instincts flare.

As the deal concluded, the taller man turned, his face illuminated by the harsh light. Leo froze.

It was Frank Larkin, a notorious gangster who’d been off the radar for months. If Larkin was involved, this wasn’t just about drugs or weapons anymore—it was about power.

Leo stepped back, trying to keep his distance. But as he turned to leave, a footstep cracked on the wooden pier.

“Leaving so soon, Detective?”

Leo spun around. Jimmy Falconi stood there, a smug grin playing on his lips. “You’re always lurking, aren’t you? Can’t let a good deal go unnoticed.”

Leo’s hand instinctively went to his gun, but he didn’t draw it. Not yet. “You’re making a mistake, Falconi. You know who you’re dealing with?”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with. And trust me, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

Leo narrowed his eyes. “Larkin?”

Falconi’s grin faltered, but only for a second. “He’s a ghost, Vargas. You’re chasing shadows. But if you’re smart, you’ll walk away. There’s nothing you can do now.”

Leo’s pulse quickened. “The deal, Falconi. What were you selling him?”

Jimmy’s eyes flicked toward the crates, where Larkin had been moments before. “Power,” he said simply. “And with power comes freedom. For him. For me. But you? You’re just another cop in the way.”

Leo stepped forward, his voice low. “Not if I can help it.”

But before he could make a move, Falconi’s men stepped out from the shadows, guns drawn. “Walk away, Detective. This is your last warning.”

Leo’s hand was already on his sidearm when he heard the unmistakable sound of sirens in the distance. He glanced back toward the road. Backup.

But it was too late. Larkin was already gone. The deal had been made.

The taller man had disappeared into the night, leaving only chaos in his wake. Leo was left standing there, knowing he’d let the most dangerous man in the city slip through his fingers once again.

“Not today, Vargas,” Falconi whispered, almost too quietly for Leo to hear. “Not today.”