Her Ruthless Obsession

Chapter 5 – Ghosts in the Smoke

Valentina’s POV

The blade digs deeper into my neck, a warning that bleeds heat across my skin.

“Gun. Now,” the man growls. His voice isn’t Luca’s. It’s sharper, colder, laced with an accent I can’t place. Eastern, maybe Russian.

I drop the weapon, let it clatter across the concrete. My pulse stays steady, but my mind spins, calculating.

Three ways out of this room, and all of them are blocked. Carmine’s still firing, pinned behind a stack of steel barrels. He can’t get to me without getting riddled with bullets. Which means for now I’m on my own.

The stranger wrenches my arms behind my back, zip-tying my wrists. Cheap plastic. Easy enough to snap if I get leverage. But the knife against my throat says he’s not giving me that chance.

“Move.”

I’m shoved forward, dragged through the chaos while Carmine yells my name. Gunfire ricochets off metal. I don’t look back. Looking back gets you killed.

The men funnel me toward a black SUV idling at the far loading dock. Luca’s gone, but his shadow is here, grinning in every set of dead eyes waiting for me.

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, tasting copper. He wants me to be scared. Wants me broken.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

They shove me into the backseat. My shoulder slams the door, pain spiking down my arm. The knife finally leaves my throat, but the zip ties cut into my wrists. I lean back, calm mask locked in place, even as my heart hammers against my ribs.

Luca thinks this is checkmate.

But the game’s not over.

Not by a long shot.

Dominic’s POV

The call comes through at 11:07 p.m.

“Your queen’s been taken.”

That’s all my contact says before the line dies, static swallowing the words.

For a second, I just stand there on the rooftop, wind knifing across my face, the city sprawled below like a board of broken pieces. I should let it go. Walk away. This isn’t my war.

But the thought of Valentina in someone else’s hands—Luca’s hands, hits me like a bullet to the gut.

I move.

Within minutes, I’m in the Aston, engine roaring, pulling every thread of intel I’ve got. Luca’s network bleeds faster than he knows; I’ve got men on the inside feeding me whispers. And right now, the whispers say she’s alive. Being moved.

I floor it, weaving through traffic until the warehouse district rears up in front of me. Smoke stains the air. Gunshots still echo, distant and fading.

I park two blocks out, grab the suppressed rifle from the trunk, and disappear into the shadows.

Ghost mode.

The bodies at the warehouse entrance tell me everything I need to know. Carmine held his ground. Blood paints the concrete in dark swathes, but Valentina’s not here. Which means she’s in transit.

I duck inside, sweep the corners, and find Carmine bleeding from a graze on his arm, rage carved into every line of his face.

“Where is she?” I demand.

He startles, gun raised until he sees me. His eyes narrow. “You.”

“Answer the question.”

“They took her. Black SUV. Eastern dock route.”

My pulse spikes. I don’t waste time with comfort or promises. “Stay alive,” I say, then vanish back into the night.

Because if I don’t get to her first, Luca will bury her in pieces.

Valentina’s POV

The SUV jolts over potholes, the city blurring past through tinted glass. I test the zip ties again. Too tight. My skin’s raw where it cuts, but I’ve broken worse.

The man across from me watches like a hawk, fingers drumming against his rifle. His eyes are pale, almost colorless. Shark eyes.

“You bleed easy?” he asks, accent thick, mocking.

I smile, slow and venomous. “Try me.”

He chuckles, but it doesn’t reach those dead eyes. “Boss says you talk too much. Maybe I can fix that.” He lifts a knife, presses the flat against my cheek.

Rage flares in me, sharp and dangerous. I want to lunge, want to rip his throat out with my teeth. But I wait. Timing is everything.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: men like him always underestimate women like me.

The SUV takes a hard turn, tires screeching. And then—

Chaos.

The windshield explodes inward with a suppressed crack. Glass rains down. The driver jerks, blood spraying the dash. The SUV swerves, metal screaming as it slams into a barrier.

The shark-eyed bastard curses, lunging for me, but the side door rips open before he can strike.

And there he is.

Dominic.

All shadows and steel, eyes burning as he raises his weapon and fires a clean shot through the man’s skull. Blood spatters across my face, hot and metallic.

For a moment, everything slows. The gunfire, the shouts outside, the rush of my own breath. It’s just him, looming over me, hand reaching for my wrists.

“Hold still,” he growls, slicing through the zip ties with a knife. His fingers brush my skin—rough, calloused—and something sparks, hot and wrong and undeniable.

I hate that my body reacts. I hate that my pulse trips faster, not from fear, but from him.

He pulls me free, his gaze locking with mine. “You okay?”

“I don’t need saving,” I snap, shoving the words between us like armor.

His mouth curves—half smirk, half something darker. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Our faces are inches apart, his breath hot against my cheek, blood and smoke thick in the air. For a second, too long, the world shrinks to just that space between us.

If I leaned in, if he did—

But before the thought can take root, another gunshot cracks through the night, shattering the moment.

“Move!” Dominic snarls, dragging me out of the SUV as bullets spray the metal.

We hit the ground hard, rolling behind cover. My lungs burn, my blood sings, and my body remembers too much about his weight, his hands, his mouth….

No. Not now.

Not ever.

We’re pinned, the air screaming with lead. Luca’s men are everywhere. And for the first time in years, I feel it, not control, not command, but the razor edge of chaos.

And beside me, Dominic grins like the devil.

“Ready to burn the city, bella?” he asks.

Before I can answer, the grenade clatters across the pavement at our feet.

The pin has already been pulled.