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Chapter 2 – Valentina’s POV

I can’t breathe. I CAN'T FUCKING BREATHE!

I keep pacing around this huge living room like some trapped animal, my hands shaking so badly I have to wipe them on my jeans every two seconds. My clothes are still wet from the rain. My hair is sticking to my face. I look like someone dragged kn the fllor.

Maybe they did.

I don’t know anymore.

The man, that ice-eyed stranger who saved me and scared me and ruined my life all in the same hour stands near the giant window like he owns the whole damn earth. He probably does. He hasn’t said a single word since the ‘you marry me’ part.

My headtrying to recover.

‘This isn’t real,’ I mumble. My voice sounds so thin and cracked. ‘No, no, no. This is some nightmare. Or… or a movie. I don’t know. Marcus, say something.’

My uncle sits on the couch, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. He looks older than he did this morning. His suit is wrinkled. His gun holster is still on.

He looks broken. Immediately, i realise… this wasn’t a surprise for him. He has been waiting for this.

‘Val,’ he says quietly, not looking at me. ‘Listen to him.’

‘Listen to him?’ I snap, my voice breaking. ‘He just told me my father wasn’t my father and my parents didn’t die in an accident. And now I’m supposed to marry—’ I point at the man like he’s a demon. ‘—him?’

The man turns slowly at that. Those pale eyes cut right through mesharply I swear my knees start to give out again.

‘You’re not marrying a stranger,’ he says in a calm voice. ‘You’re marrying the only man who can keep you alive.’

‘That doesn’t make it better!’ I shout back.

My voice echoes around the big apartment. Immediately, silence follows. I swallow.

He finally steps closer. I move back instinctively. He steps again. I move again. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t even blink.

He is just watching me.

‘You think Petrov will stop because you hide behind your uncle?’ he says. ‘You think those men in the alley were a random attack?’

I shake my head. I can’t think. I can’t breathe.

‘You’re Lorenzo Castellano’s daughter,’ he continues. ‘Your blood is a target. Your name is a weapon. And now that you’ve been seen—’ He stops walking as he corners me to the wall, ‘—they won’t stop until you’re dead.’

I press my hands over my mouth to hold back a tear and sob. I look at Marcus again, hoping he’ll say this is all some prank or…some… some messed up undercover operation. He doesn’t. Instead, he stands, walks to me and places his hands on my shoulders. His eyes are wet and his breath is shaky.

‘Val… he’s right.’

I feel the floor tilt. My stomach drops. The world blurss in my eyes.

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘No. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this. I just wanted… I don’t know… a quiet life. My job. My counseling. I just wanted—’

The door explodes like…literally explodes.

A very loud bang fills the air. The door flies off its hinges, wood scattering everywhere. I scream and hit the floor without thinking. My ears ring. Smoke fills the room.

Marcus pulls me behind a table. He’s already drawing his gun. The ice-eyed man doesn’t flinch or even blink. He just turns his head, slow, his movements deadly.

Men storm in wearing black tactical gear, theor guns raised, shouting in a language I don’t know. Russian maybe. It was just a harsh language.

Marcus fires. One drops to the found. Just then, the others start to shoot back. I cover my head, squeezing myself into a ball, shaking so hard my teeth clack. My heart is smashing inside my chest. I can’t think. I can’t breathe.

Everything is just only noise and bullets and screaming.

The ice-eyed man then moves like he is a shadow.

He grabs one attacker, twists the gun, shoots another with the same gun, then elbows someone else in the throat. It’s too fast for my eyes to follow. Like a fight scene on fast-forward.

Someone grabs me from behind. I scream and struggle, kicking, clawing, anything to get free. His hand is on my mouth. He drags me backward toward the hall.

‘Let go! LET GO!’ My voice sounds like a dying cat. ‘HELPPP!!!’

Marcus sees. He yells my name and shoots. The bullet hits the man holding me. Blood sprays on my arm. He collapses, pulling me with him. I fall hard, my elbow smashing agnsaidt the floor.

Another man lunges for me. But i hwar a gunshot. His head jerks back fast and he falls.

The ice-eyed stranger is there right above me. His face is hard and his tie slightly crooked from killing people.

‘Get up,’ he says.

I try but slip. My hands are shaking. My legs feel like noodles. He grabs my arm, not gently but not painfully either and pulls me behind him. More men flood in. They were just too many.

‘How did they find us?!’ Marcus shouts.

‘There’s a mole,’ the stranger says. His voice is like ice cracking. ‘Move.’

He pushes me toward a side hallway. Bullets hit the wall behind us, spraying dust. I scream again. I’m screaming so much I don’t even sound like myself anymore. My lungs burn. My throat aches. We reach a second door. He slams his fist into a metal keypad on the wall. It beeps and the door slides open, revealing some hidden staircase. He shoves me forward.

‘Down. Now.’

Marcus covers us, shooting at anyone who comes close. We stumble down the stairs. I can hear boots above us. Voices of Russian shouting. They’re coming!

‘Why are they after me?!’ I cry, almost tripping again. ‘Why won’t they stop?!’

‘Because you’re the last Castellano,’ he says. He’s breathing hard now, but his voice still sounds like a man who’s used to running into bullets. ‘Your father—’

A gunshot hits the stair railing beside my head. Dust fly around. I scream and duck. Marcus returns fire.

‘Move, Val!’

I run. I don’t see where I’m going. Just running. The stairs end in a dark underground garage. At least ten SUVs are lined up. The stranger grabs my wrist and yanks me toward one of them. My arm hurts but I don’t care. I just want to live.

‘Get in,’ he orders.

I climb in, trembling. Marcus jumps into the passenger seat. The stranger gets behind the wheel and starts the car. The garage door begins rising. I see dome shadows behind us and figures running down the stairs.

‘They’re coming!’ I cry.

‘I see them,’ he says.

Gunshots hit the car. The windows don’t shatter. It's bulletproof. The stranger slams the accelerator. The SUV shoots forward so fast I git myself against the seat.

The Russians burst into the garage. There are more gunfire and more shouting. We break out onto the street, tires screeching on the road floor. I turn back, panting, watching the garage shrink behind us.

I think… we made it.

Then a black van bursts out after us. My heart drops.

‘They’re still following!’ I choke out.

‘They won’t for long,’ the man says.

He takes a sharp turn and another one again. The city blurs in my vision. The van keeps coming and it's do fast. ‘Who the hell ARE these people?!’ I sob.

The stranger doesn’t answer. His jaw flexes. His eyes fixed om the road. Marcus reloads his gun.

‘If they catch us,’ he says, voice low, ‘they won’t kill you. Not at first.’

I choke on air. ‘Wh-what does that mean?’

‘It means,’ he says, glancing at me for the briefest second, ‘you don’t want to find out.’

The van swerves closer beside us. A man leans out the window with a gun.

Marcus shouts, ‘Down!’

I duck.

Bullets rain. The stranger swerves hard. The van hits us. Metal slams metal. The car jerks violently. I scream so loud my throat tears.

Another hit.

Another.

The stranger yells, ‘Hold on!’

He turns the wheel so sharply my body flies sideways. The SUV crashes through a barrier, smashing into a narrow side alley. The car spins and everything tilts. We slam into a wall. My head hits something and i see starts. I almost pass out. The world is ringing and shaking and blurry in my head and eyes. I hear Marcus groaning. The stranger curses under his breath. He tries to restart the engine but doesn’t start.

The van screeches to a stop behind us. I look through the shattered front window. Men are walking toward us, their guns raised, their faces covered.

One steps forward and lifts his mask. I know his face. I freeze. ‘Uncle…?’ I whisper.

Marcus’s head snaps up. The man smirks.

‘Hello, Valentina.’

Marcus gasps, voice breaking. ‘Daniel…? No. No. You’re supposed to be dead. They said you died in Moscow—’

Daniel raises his gun and points it right at me.

‘Come with us, Valentina,’ he says with a cold smile, ‘or everybody in this car dies right now.’