Valentina lay awake, staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit bedroom. The air was thick with tension, the events of the night still fresh in her mind. Adrian’s rage, his possessive grip on her wrist, the way his enemies cowered in his presence, she had seen men kill before, but there was something terrifyingly different about Adrian Costa.
She turned onto her side, her fingers brushing over the bruises on her arm. A reminder of how easily he could break her. Yet, what disturbed her more than his violence was the way he had shielded her. Protected her. As if she belonged to him.
A soft knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She hesitated before opening it slightly, only to find an unfamiliar face, a woman, tall and elegant, dressed in black silk. Her piercing green eyes studied
