Valentina.
“I love you.” He had murmured multiple times when we were in bed.
I love him.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of careful planning and quiet tension. Matteo, unaware of the storm brewing beneath my calm exterior, left early in the morning to handle some business with Ethan.
His parting kiss had lingered on my lips, the warmth of his touch almost making me reconsider everything.
But I had no choice.
I was about to risk my life by trusting a stranger.
I spent the rest of the day preparing in secret, my heart racing every time Valerie walked past the room. Each moment felt like it could be the one where someone would knock, ask me why I wasn’t in the living room with Valerie or playing with the baby like I had taken to, or why I had disappeared for most of the afternoon.
I moved like a ghost, packing the essentials. Cash, a burner phone, and a small knife Matteo wouldn’t miss from his collection. While my hand to hand combat skills had increased, the opportunity to learn how to use a gun decreased.
I slipped into a pair of black jeans and a fitted long sleeved shirt that would help me move easily through the shadows. The entire time, guilt gnawed at me. Lying to Matteo, sneaking behind his back…. it wasn’t what I wanted.
It wasn’t what I was supposed to do.
But Isabella was out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I couldn’t abandon her.
The note I left on Matteo’s pillow was simple, and I forced myself not to read it again as I set it down. I had written it carefully, knowing he would find it when he returned late that night without Isabella. I could imagine the look of anger, of betrayal, on his face when he saw it.
Those blue eyes I loved so much would be filled with anger. And maybe, hate.
I hoped he’d understand, hoped he wouldn’t think I was walking into a death trap, even though that might very well be what this was. If things went wrong, Matteo would never forgive me, but I had to risk it. For Isabella.
The house was unnervingly quiet as the hour of my escape approached. So I waited until just past midnight when Valerie had gone to bed, and the safe house was still. Panic clawed at my throat as I carefully descended the stairs, avoiding the creaky step near the bottom that I knew would give me away.
As I reached the kitchen, the weight of what I was about to do hit me all at once. This could be the last time I walked these halls, the last time I saw Matteo’s home, the life I had built with him – however fragile it still was. I felt a sharp ache in my chest, but I knew I couldn’t stop now.
Slipping through the back entrance, I kept to the shadows, my breath steady, my steps quiet. I had memorized the path to the warehouse, the secluded place where Luca’s men had been spotted. It was where I hoped to find answers-or at least a lead that would take me to Isabella.
The moon was high, casting a pale glow over the deserted streets as I made my way through the outskirts of the city. The world seemed quieter at this hour, as if holding its breath, waiting for whatever was to come. My pulse quickened with every step, my mind racing with possibilities, with fears. What if I was too late?
What if Isabella wasn’t there?
What if this was a trap?
Pushing the thoughts aside, I focused on the road ahead. I had planned for this, prepared for every possible outcome. The warehouse loomed in the distance, a hulking, dark shape against the night sky. It looked abandoned, like so many others in the industrial part of the city, but I knew better.
It was just past one in the morning by the time I reached the fence that surrounded the warehouse. The air was damp, and the faint smell of oil and rust clung to the night. My breath came in short, quiet bursts as I crouched down behind a stack of old crates, surveying the area.
No guards.
No cameras. Just as I had been told.
But something still felt off.
The stillness around the warehouse wasn’t natural, as if the place itself was holding its breath, waiting for me. I could feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach as I slipped through the gap in the fence, making my way toward the rear entrance.
Perhaps I was the one thinking too much about it.
I approached slowly, every sense on high alert. The night felt heavier here, more oppressive, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. My hand tightened around the hilt of the knife hidden in my waistband as I crouched low, moving swiftly toward the door.
It was unlocked, just as I had been promised. That should have been reassuring, but instead, it made me even more uneasy.
Whoever had left it this way wanted me to come inside.
Was that man working for Luca?
I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady myself before slipping through the door and into the dimly lit corridor beyond. The air inside was stale, thick with dust, and the faint smell of damp concrete. My footsteps were barely audible as I moved through the narrow hallway, every nerve in my body on edge.
The warehouse was a labyrinth of empty rooms and long, shadowy corridors, and I moved through them with purpose, my heart pounding in my chest. I had memorized the layout from the stolen blueprints and knew exactly where I needed to go.
The central room. That’s where I would find answers.
I reached the doorway that led into the large, open space at the heart of the warehouse. The room was vast, the ceiling high and lined with metal beams, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the space. My eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement, but the room appeared empty.
Too empty.
I crept forward, my fingers grazing the edge of a rusted metal container as I moved through the shadows, my heart racing. The tension was thick in the air, the kind of silence that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I reached the centre of the room and paused, my breath catching in my throat as I looked around. Nothing. No signs of life, no guards, no Isabella. Just the faint hum of electricity in the walls and the distant sound of dripping water.
Had I been too late?
A sharp sound pierced the silence-a faint scuff of a shoe against concrete. My heart stopped, my body going rigid as I turned toward the source of the noise. Someone was there, just out of sight.
Footsteps.
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the warehouse, growing louder with each passing second.
I froze, every muscle in my body tensing as the sound drew closer. Whoever it was, they weren’t in a hurry. They knew I was here, and they were taking their time, savouring the moment.
The darkness pressed in around me as the footsteps stopped, just on the other side of the metal container I was hiding behind. My breath was shallow, my hand gripping the knife so tightly my knuckles turned white.
I waited, my heart pounding in my ears.
A voice – low, smooth, and terrifyingly familiar – cut through the silence.
“I didn’t think you’d come alone.”
I gasped, my blood turning to ice as the footsteps resumed, drawing closer, closing in on me.
And then, in the stillness of the warehouse, the lights flickered on, flooding the room with harsh, artificial light.
I was exposed.
I turned slowly, my heart racing as I faced the man stepping out of the shadows.
Luca.