Valentina
“Matteo….”
Everything hurt.
That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up.
The second thing I noticed was the weight. Heavy, like a blanket pressing down on me.
My body felt sluggish, and my limbs weighed down my invisible chains. It took a moment to realize that the weight wasn’t just physical.
It was emotional. Painful, sharp memories flooding back in fragments.
The attack. The losing consciousness. Darkness.
But above all, Matteo’s voice.
I heard him every time he talked to me.
Frantic. Trembling. Reaching out to me through the haze of my pain.
I remembered the sound of it, but not the words, yet it had being enough yo pull me out of the blackness, anchoring me in the here and now.
I forced my eyes open, the harsh sounds of the machines I was still plugged to were the first things I noticed.
My chest ached, my ribs protesting even the smallest movement, and I struggled to get a full breath in.
Still….
I was alive.
Matteo’s hand was the first thing I saw, wrapped gently around mine. His thumb traced slow circles against my skin, like he was trying to remind me he was still there.
“Valentina,” he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion I didn’t know as he noticed me staring. His dark eyes bored into mine, filled with such overwhelming regret it was almost difficult to look at me. “You’re awake.”
For the third time today.
I wanted to say something. Anything, really. How I felt during his absence. What I felt now was that he was by my side. That I was okay.
But my throat felt raw, and words wouldn’t come out.
So I just blinked, letting him know I was listening, that I could hear him.
He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I was so scared,” Without warning, he pressed his lips gently on my forehead. “I thought… I was going to lose you.”
His words hung in the air. The meaning not lost to any of us.
Matteo had always been cold, distant, even when he tried to show affection, there was some sort of barrier holding him back.
But now, there was nothing but raw emotion. His thumb was still on my hand, drawing those lazy, comforting circles.
I was relieved to have him here. Grateful for his presence, for the way he was here, taking care of me.
But something else.
Anger.
The word stood out like a sore thumb in my mind. His gaze, his touch, the way he looked at me like he couldn’t bear to look away for a second – it made me angry.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered again, his forehead resting against my hand. His voice had cracked slightly, as if the apology had been too heavy for him to carry any longer. “I shouldn’t have left. I should have been there.”
Yes.
He should have been there.
Maybe the person who saw me there wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to….
I swallowed hard, trying to push away the bitterness rising inside me. I wasn’t in any condition to argue, and I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to.
Matteo had promised to be better. Promised to love me.
Yet, he ran during the first confrontation.
“Valentina,” he breathed my name again, his fingers brushing my cheek gently. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
I wanted to believe him.
But he wasn’t even trying to offer the information I had desperately wanted that day.
I should have confronted him. I should have demanded answers, forced him to tell me the truth about the whole situation I found myself in.
But every time I tried, the words died in my throat.
My body was weak.
My mind clouded by no doubt the constant painkillers that must have been pumped in me.
And Matteo..?
Matteo was smothering me with too much attention. Too much love. It made it impossible to think clearly.
I doubt he would answer me now anyway. Wouldn’t let me push for answers.
So I allowed him to wrap his affection like a protective cocoon, hoping it didn’t suffocate me.
And so, I stayed silent. I let him hold me, let him whisper promises that I didn’t believe, all the while wondering when I’d finally have the strength to break free – and confront the truth.
One thing was certain.
Someone in this estate. Someone even amongst Matteo’s men knew where my sister was.
They had planted the perfect trap in my room for me.
And sooner, rather than later, I would find them.
And I would kill them with my bare hands.
*
I tried my best not to breathe.
Though my chest screamed at me to do just that.
Isabella was somewhere. I had to find her. I just couldn’t stop looking.
Even as my hands shook, and I held onto the stone cold walls, nails digging into the stone like it would stop the world from spinning.
How long had it been since he had me?
Days? Hours?
I had no way to tell the time.
Every second stretched into infinity, and the more time that passed, the harder it became to focus on anything.
What if Isabella was already taken? A second time would surely kill her.
No.
No.
I couldn’t think like that.
I couldn’t allow that thought to worm its way in. She was close. So close I could hear her voice in my head, telling me what to do.
My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out everything else. I couldn’t hear my own thoughts anymore – just the deafening roar of panic clawing at my throat.
“Where are you, Isabella?” I whispered, my voice hoarse, barely a sound.
Everything blurred together – every lead, every dead-end, every person I questioned who met me with nothing but blank stares and shaking heads. They didn’t care. No one cared. No one but me.
I felt the weight of it all pressing down on me, crushing me from the inside out. Each passing moment was a reminder that I was failing. That I couldn’t protect her.
“You stupid bitch,” Someone snarled at me, his hands fisted at the side. “You’ve led them right to us.”
I would find her.
I had to.
“I’m going to kill you.”