Claimed By The Ruthless Don

Chapter2

Valentina’s POV

I don’t remember much about the car ride, but I do remember fighting and the grip on my arms being so tight I could already feel the bruises forming underneath my skin. I also remember the night air hitting my face as they harshly pushed me into the back seat of the car.

Everything that came after that became a blur of passing trees, houses, and muffled voices, coupled with the exhaustion I felt from the day and night’s work finally catching up to me.

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I fought sleep off the same way I had fought everything else that night; the tears, the men and my father’s betrayal, but my body had other plans for me and at some point the darkness just pulled me in.

When I opened my eyes again, I was alone. The room I was lying in was nothing like anything I had ever woken up in before. It was large, clean and quietly expensive in a way that felt almost offensive given the circumstances.

The bed I was lying on was softer than anything I had ever slept on in my life and the curtains were heavy and dark, letting in only the thinnest sliver of light and for a moment, just one disoriented moment, I had absolutely no idea where I was or how I had gotten there.

Then everything rushed back to me, everything that had happened since I got back from work right up until this moment. I sat up so fast the room spun, and I had to grip the edge of the bed to steady myself from falling off.

My heart was hammering loudly, and my mind was already racing through everything, my father’s voice, those men, the door closing behind me, the car. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and immediately went for the door only to discover it was locked.

I tried the window next but the sight in front of me made me freeze up a bit. It was high up, higher than I had anticipated and the ground below was so far away that any thought of climbing out died before I could dwell on it.

Pressing my forehead against the glass window, I took a deep breath because I had to think and think fast. I didn’t realize how much time had already passed when the door finally opened.

Lifting my head from the glass, I saw a woman slip in, quietly carrying a tray of food and a neatly folded change of clothes.

She kept her head down like she had been told not to speak to me or look at me and, for some reason, it bothered me.

“Hey, please look at me.” I made sure my voice was steady because I needed her to give me an answer and take me seriously.

“Where am I? Who brought me here?”

But she didn’t answer and busied herself with setting up the food and that further heightened the anger and frustration I felt.

“I know you can hear me!”

I walked quickly, standing between her and the door because she was not walking out without giving me something.

“I am not asking for much, only that you tell me where I am. That’s all.”

She looked up at me with sympathy, like she knew something much worse that I didn’t, but in the blink of an eye, it was gone as if I had imagined it.

When she moved towards the door, I reached out and grabbed her arm but stopped myself.

“Please,” I whispered, but she was still silent.

“Can I at least get your name? Just that, and I’ll leave you alone.”

She looked at me like she genuinely wanted to answer me but couldn’t.

The door closed behind her softly and I stood there for a second, staring at it before finally letting out all the anger I felt. I screamed, I banged on the door until my knuckles ached but no one cared.

I demanded answers from people who had absolutely no intentions of giving me any. By the next day, I had stopped screaming.

Not because I had made peace with any of this but because I realized no one was coming to help me. So I ate the food they brought even though it irritated me that it was actually good.

I sat with everything I was feeling, the rage, the fear and the quiet devastation of what my father had done, and I let it all move through me without letting any of it make me fall apart.

During these quiet hours, I thought about my mother and the ways she would comfort me whenever I was scared. She had always said that courage wasn’t the absence of fear, it was deciding that something else mattered more.

I took a deep breath to stay calm and smiled at the fond memory. I honestly don’t remember much of her, but I remember how much she loved me.

By the third day, I made a quiet decision fueled by determination. Whatever was coming my way now, I was going to face it head on. I refused to give these people the satisfaction of seeing me break.

I was sitting at the edge of the bed when the door opened again, but it was someone else, and I felt him before I saw him. The man who walked in made the already large room feel smaller just by stepping into it.

He was very tall and built with dark hair, beautiful ivory skin and a scar running from his eyebrow down toward his cheek. There was something about him that felt dangerous and deeply unsettling.

His eyes found me almost immediately, and they were this piercing cold shade of blue that made something shift uncomfortably in my chest.

I had to stop myself from staring so hard and I stood up immediately because I could feel the dominance and power radiating off him.

He looked at me with quiet and unreadable eyes, like he was confirming something to himself rather than actually seeing the person standing right in front of him.

And then before I could open my mouth and release even one of the hundred questions I had been holding onto for three days, he turned around and walked back out.

I stood there completely still for a moment because I genuinely could not believe what had just happened. Three days in that room and this man had walked in, looked at me like I was barely worth his time and walked back out without a single word.

I didn’t know who he was yet but he had just made a mistake walking in here and acting like I wasn’t worth a single word.