Chapter Four: Captured
828 Words
The moment the masked men rushed her, Valentina moved.
Instinct took over.
She turned sharply to the side, dodging the first attacker's grip, her body a blur. Her elbow drove into his stomach, pulling a harsh grunt from his lips. She didn't allow him time to draw breath before she spun, kicking out at the second man's knee.
He stumbled, but they were too fast.
A hand cracked at her wrist. She spun around, but another closed behind her, tying her arms at the wrists. She kicked back with her heel, knocking the man over and hissing in pain, but there were too many of them for her.
The statistics had never hindered her before.
Taking a broken breath, Valentina slumped down, warding them off for a moment of time. Time enough.
She grabbed for her gun—
Too late.
Pain lanced through her head as something hard hit the side of it. A blinding white flash behind her eyes.
The floor tilted.
Her eyesight faded.
She staggered, her knees buckling beneath her.
She never hit the ground.
Instead, two firm hands closed around her wrists, yanking them behind her. Cold metal wrapped around them, the unmistakable click of handcuffs snapping home.
No.
She tried to spin freely, but the hit had left her off-balance. The room was spinning.
Footsteps.
Slow, heavy exhalation.
Dante.
Valentina's eyes flashed upward, smoldering with rage. He stood facing her, still clutching his glass, watching her with infuriating calm.
"Done yet?"
She snarled. "Go to hell."
Dante grinned and moved his weight on his leg. "You go first."
He pointed at the men. "Take her downstairs."
Her gut dropped.
"No."
It was not a plea. It was a threat.
She struggled against the bonds, twisting, thrashing. If they were going to take her, they'd have to fight for her.
The men jerked her forward. She kicked, pulled free of their hands for an instant—
Then pain exploded in her ribs. A savage punch.
She gasped, her body betraying her as the air burst out of her lungs.
Dante watched all this, unmoved, untroubled.
With a last tug, Valentina was dragged toward the door, her boots scraping along the extremely glossy floor. The last thing she noticed before they dragged her away from there was Dante, looming behind his desk, sipping his cocktail like this was a mere business transaction.
And then—
Darkness.
---
She awoke lying on cold concrete beneath her cheek.
Valentina took a deep breath, agony stabbing through her ribs. Her wrists ached from the restraints, her head spinning from the impact.
She raised her eyes gradually.
A pale light hung above, casting ethereal shadows along the walls. Dampness filled the air, the reek of iron and dust hovering over it.
A basement.
A cell.
She rolled onto her back, teeth clenched against the agony.
Footsteps echoed from down the corridor beyond the bars. Heavy. Intentional.
She saw him before he entered view.
Dante.
He stepped into sight, his form casting a shadow in the room like a storm about to break.
"You held your own," he said, fists jammed into his pockets. "I would have suspected no less."
Valentina strained to sit up, her motions jerky but controlled. "If you're waiting for me to thank you for the compliment, you'll be waiting a long time."
Dante grinned.
He drew his hand from his pocket, something small and metallic in it. With a flick of his fingers, her knife appeared.
"Fine workmanship," he said, studying the blade. "Custom work. Balanced to perfection. A killer's knife."
Valentina did not respond.
Dante crouched in front of the bars, close but out of reach.
"I did some research on you," he said, twirling the knife between his fingers. "Valentina Russo. Orphan. No family. No past. No records prior to the last decade." He waited. "A ghost."
She didn't flinch.
Dante's smirk increased. "I like ghosts. But the thing about ghosts is… they're so easy to wipe out."
She did not blink, did not allow even a glimmer of doubt to catch his eye.
"You should have killed me," she said softly.
Dante's eyes went black. "Perhaps."
A moment passed, thick and oppressive, between them.
Then Dante moved forward, his voice low but firm.
"I am giving you an offer, Valentina."
She arched a brow. "A bargain?"
"You are now in my service."
Valentina let out a hard, humorless laugh. "No hope in hell."
Dante did not change expression. "The other choice is death."
She c****d her head, looking at him. "Then kill me."
Most men would have stuttered. Most would have taken a step back from the level calm in her tone.
Dante didn't.
Rather, he simply stood up, shoving her knife into his pocket as if it was his.
"You have twenty-four hours to decide
," he told her, moving towards the door. "Don't waste them."
The cell door slammed shut behind him.
And Valentina was alone in the darkness.
---
- Writer
