Some people are born into darkness.
Others are thrown into it.
Valentina Moretti was raised in it.
---
Years Ago
She was ten the first time she saw someone die.
Not on a screen. Not in whispered stories meant to scare children into obedience.
Real.
Close.
Permanent.
The man had been on his knees, begging. His voice cracked, hands shaking as he pleaded for mercy that would never come.
Valentina stood at the edge of the room, hidden behind the grand piano, her small fingers gripping the polished wood so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
But curiosity had always been her flaw.
Her father stood in front of the man—calm, composed, terrifying.
Marco Moretti didn't shout. Didn't threaten.
He simply decided.
A single nod.
A gunshot.
And just like that… it was over.
The man dropped.
Silence followed.
Valentina didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
She just… watched.
Because something inside her understood, even then—
This was her world.
And there was no escaping it.
---
Present
The gunshot rang out—
But it wasn't mine.
I moved before I could think, grabbing Valentina and twisting us out of the line of fire. The bullet slammed into the wall behind us, sending fragments flying.
Too close.
Way too close.
"Move!" I snapped.
She didn't hesitate.
Good.
We ran.
Footsteps pounded behind us—the man's laughter echoing through the corridor, calm and controlled.
Like this was all a game to him.
"Enjoy the chase!" he called.
I didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
Men like him didn't bluff.
They hunted.
And right now—we were the prey.
---
We cut through another hallway, turning sharply into a side passage. My grip on her wrist tightened, pulling her along as I scanned every corner, every shadow.
Think.
Plan.
Survive.
"Who is he?" I demanded.
Valentina's breathing was steady—but her eyes were not.
"He shouldn't be alive," she said again, more to herself than to me.
"That doesn't answer my question."
She glanced at me, something raw flickering beneath her usual control.
"His name is Adrian Voss."
The name meant nothing to me.
But the way she said it?
That meant everything.
"He worked for my father," she continued. "Years ago. Then he betrayed him."
"Clearly didn't end well," I muttered.
"He was executed."
"And yet…"
"He's here," she finished, jaw tightening.
Yeah.
That was a problem.
A big one.
---
We slowed near a junction, both of us listening.
Silence.
Too quiet.
I didn't like quiet.
"Something's wrong," I said.
Valentina nodded slightly. "He's playing with us."
"Yeah. I figured."
Another step—
A click echoed beneath my boot.
I froze.
Trap.
"Don't move," I said sharply.
Valentina stilled instantly.
Smart.
I glanced down.
Pressure plate.
Of course.
"Can you disarm it?" she asked quietly.
I exhaled slowly. "Yeah."
"'Yeah' like you're sure, or 'yeah' like we're about to die?"
I almost smiled.
"Stay optimistic."
Carefully, I crouched, keeping my weight balanced as I examined the mechanism.
Crude.
But effective.
One wrong move—
Boom.
"Who sets traps inside a mansion?" I muttered.
"Someone who knows exactly how we think," she replied.
Fair.
Too fair.
I worked quickly, fingers steady despite the adrenaline pumping through me.
Seconds stretched.
Too long.
Too dangerous.
Then—
A soft click.
I stepped back.
"We're good."
Valentina exhaled quietly. "Remind me not to doubt you again."
"Don't get used to it."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
---
We moved again, slower this time.
More careful.
Every step measured.
"Why are they targeting you?" I asked after a moment.
Her expression hardened. "Power."
"Not specific enough."
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then—
"There's something my father has," she said. "Something people would kill for."
"Clearly."
"I don't know what it is," she added quickly.
I glanced at her.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care what you believe," she shot back. "I'm telling you the truth."
I studied her face.
Looking for cracks.
For lies.
But all I saw was—
Frustration.
And something else.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For something bigger.
Interesting.
---
We reached a narrow staircase leading down.
"Basement?" I asked.
"Hidden exit," she replied. "Leads outside the compound."
Better than staying here.
"Let's go."
We descended quickly, the air growing colder with each step.
Darker.
Heavier.
Something about it felt—
Wrong.
Halfway down, Valentina stopped suddenly.
"What?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Just stared ahead.
I followed her gaze—
And saw it.
The door at the bottom.
Open.
Slowly swinging.
Someone had been here.
Recently.
I swore under my breath.
"They're ahead of us."
"No," she said quietly.
Her voice had changed.
Lower.
Colder.
"He is."
---
We stepped into the basement.
And everything went still.
Too still.
Then—
"Welcome."
The voice echoed from the shadows.
Adrian Voss stepped forward, hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world.
Like he owned this moment.
Maybe he did.
Valentina went rigid beside me.
"You're supposed to be dead," she said, her voice sharp as glass.
Adrian smiled.
"I was," he said simply. "But death… didn't suit me."
My grip tightened on the gun.
"Step away from her."
His gaze shifted to me, amused.
"And you must be the new bodyguard," he said. "I was wondering how long you'd last."
"Long enough," I replied.
He chuckled softly.
"I doubt that."
The tension in the room snapped tight.
Explosive.
Deadly.
"Why are you here?" Valentina demanded.
Adrian's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her.
Not with kindness.
With obsession.
"I came back for what was taken from me," he said.
Her expression darkened. "You mean what you lost when you betrayed us?"
His smile didn't fade.
"If that helps you sleep at night, princess."
I stepped forward, positioning myself between them.
"Last warning," I said coldly. "Walk away."
Adrian sighed.
"Always so serious," he murmured. "You remind me of myself."
"Then you know how this ends."
"Yes," he said.
"I do."
And then—
Everything happened at once.
Lights cut out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
A gunshot echoed—
Followed by another.
Valentina's hand grabbed mine in the dark.
Tight.
Instinctive.
Not fear.
Trust.
And that was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Dante—" she started.
Then—
Her grip was ripped away.
"Valentina!" I shouted, reaching into the darkness.
Nothing.
Just silence.
And the faint sound of footsteps… retreating.
Taking her with them.
My chest tightened, something cold and violent snapping into place.
This wasn't just a job anymore.
This was war.