2

VALERIA

I noticed her the moment she walked into the hall.

Not because she tried to be seen or because she was loud. But she didn’t.

She entered the room beside a man who wore confidence like a borrowed suit, comfortable enough, but never quite his. Her hand rested lightly on his arm. The kind of touch that came from time, not urgency.

She looked real.

In a room filled with people with polished smiles and rehearsed laughter, she was untouched by the performance. Her dress was simple but so elegant. Green. Soft. It reminded me of something alive.

I shouldn’t have looked twice. But I did anyway.

“Elena,” Marcus said when he introduced her to me, pride thick in his voice.

Girlfriend.

The word landed something sharp in my chest.

There was something about her. The moment I shook her hand, I felt it. It was quiet but dangerous. Not hunger or lust but recognition. The kind that unsettles you because it doesn’t ask permission.

Her fingers were warm. She pulled back too fast.

Interesting.

“You look beautiful tonight,” I told her, keeping my voice neutral.

Her heart jumped. I saw it. The slight catch in her breath, the way her pupils widened before she tried to mask it with politeness.

She was nervous. I told myself. Nothing more.

I didn’t mix business with pleasure. Ever.

Desire made people careless. Carelessness got people killed.

So I stepped away.

But even as I spoke to investors and donors, even as I tried to focus on the role expected of me, my eyes kept finding her.

She was watching the room as if she didn’t belong in it. Like she was waiting for the night to end.

When our gazes met again near the window, I felt something. between us.

I looked away first.

That should have been the end of it.

Two weeks later, Marcus requested a meeting.

A business dinner, somewhere quiet and private.

I agreed.

Marcus was an ambitious man and careless too. The kind of man who thought confidence could easily replace caution. Men like that were bound to make mistakes. The only question was how costly they would be.

We met at a restaurant I owned but never visited publicly. The lights were low, with heavy wood. No windows.

Marcus was already seated, smiling like he was already winning.

“Valeria,” he said, standing. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“Sit,” I replied calmly.

We placed our order. Wine was served. He talked while I listened.

He spoke about business expansion, about further partnerships. About numbers that didn’t add up.

He believed he was convincing me so I let him.

He mentioned names he shouldn’t have known. Routes he shouldn’t referenced, private dealings that were never meant to leave closed room.

I didn’t interrupt.

When the plates were cleared, I folded my napkin and placed it beside my glass.

“I see you’ve been busy,” I said.

He laughed. “That’s business and I’m a businessman.”

“No,” I corrected. “That’s theft.”

The smile on his face faded immediately.

Before he could respond, the door behind him opened. Three of my finest men entered. Black suits. No expressions.

One stopped behind Marcus’s chair. Close enough that Marcus stiffened.

“What is this?” he asked, forcing a laugh.

I leaned back slightly, calm as ever.

“You stole from me and thought I wouldn’t know, Marcus?” I said.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t dare to steal from you,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Two. You made a deal you couldn’t afford,” I said again. “You sold information that wasn’t yours.”

“I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, too quickly.

The man behind him placed a gun against the back of his chair. Not touching him yet.

Marcus swallowed.

I leaned forward. “And worse of all,” I continued softly, “you involved something that belongs to me.”

His eyes widened. “Valeria..”

I raised a hand. “Not another word.”

Silence filled the room.

Marcus's breath came unevenly, his eyes darted around the room like he was searching for a quick exit.

I stood.

The man behind him gripped his shoulder firmly. Another took his arm. Marcus struggled, panic flashing across his face.

“Wait…Valeria, please,” he said. “This is a misunderstanding.”

I turned away. “Take him,” I said calmly.

They didn’t drag him, they didn’t have to. Fright did most of the work.

The restaurant had a private exit that led down a narrow corridor and out into the night. A black vehicle waited outside, engine running. Marcus was pushed inside. I followed shortly after, sliding into the seat across from him.

The drive was quiet.

He tried to speak twice but the look from both men beside him shut him up.

We arrived at my house, a place no one was allowed access to unless I allowed it. The car descended underground, the doors opening into a wide cold space of concrete and steel.

The basement.

At this moment, Marcus’s confidence was gone now, completely stripped.

They tied him to a chair bolted to the floor. They weren’t rough, they were precise, efficient.

I dismissed everyone except one of the guards.

Then I stepped closer.

“You still don’t know what you’ve done, do you?” I said.

“I swear…” he started.

I placed a folder on the table in front of him. Documents spilled out from the folder, it contained banl transfers, messagess, recorded calls. Names circled in red, highlighted dates, mapped routes.

Proof.

His eyes dropped to the papers in disbelief. It widened.

“You stole from me,” I said in a sharp tone. “And you sold private information to my people.”

He shook his head violently. “No. No, that’s not…”

I leaned down, melting his gaze.

“What?” I asked quietly. “You thought I would invite my enemy to an important event without knowing who was leaking to them?”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

No word came out.

“I don’t make mistakes like that,” I I continued. “People betray me in this line of business and I prepare for it.”

He laughed. “You’re wrong. You are. I didn’t…”

“Think before you speak,” I interrupted.

I circled him slowly. “You know,” I said softly, my heels clicking with each step, “people always think torture is about pain.’”

I stopped behind him, resting my hands on the back of his shoulders. “It’s not.”

He swallowed hard.

I stepped around to face him and crouched so that we were eye level. From the table beside me, I picked up a thin baton, clean, no bloodstains.

He flinched before I even touched him.

I smiled at that.

“Good,” I murmured. “Your body understands before your mouth does.”

I tapped the baton against his knee. Light but sharp. Enough to make him hiss but not scream. I waited, watched his reaction.

“Still want to lie to my face?” I asked.

He shook his head quickly. “I….I don’t know anything.”

I sighed, standing. “That’s a lie.”

I picked up a thin wire from the table. “You see,” I continued, winding it slowly around my fingers, “I don’t enjoy pain. I enjoy honesty. Pain is simply how we reach it.”

I looped the wire around his finger and pulled it just enough to make him gasp. enough to feel the pressure. I held it there, unwavering.

Seconds passed. Minutes.

His body began to tremble from the pain.

“That’s the problem with men like you,” I said quietly. “You think torture is about how hard I can hurt you,” my eyes hardened. “It’s about how long I can wait.”

I loosened the wire. Relief flooded him too fast.

I slapped him. Not hard enough to knock him out but hard enough to disorient him.

“Don’t mistake mercy for weakness,”I said. “Where’s my money?”

I stepped back and nodded at the guard.

The light went off.

panic set in immediately. He thrashed, the chair creaking beneath him, his breath breaking into shallow gasps.

My voice came from behind him.

“One last chance,” I whispered, my breath brushing his ears. “Tell me where it is.”

He broke.

“Okay,” he whimpered. “Okay I did it.”

I scoffed.

“I needed money,” he continued. “Just a loan. Just to get ahead. I was going to fix it quietly. I swear.”

“You think you will,”I replied.

“I can pay you back,” he said quickly. “Give me some time. I’ll redeem myself. I promise.”

I studied him.

Then I asked. “With what?”

Without hesitation, he said, “I’ll give anything. Anything.”

I smiled. I turned, walking slowly around him. The thought of green fabrics flooded my thoughts.

When I stopped in front of me, my decision was made.

“I need a collateral,” I said.

He nodded eagerly. “Of course. Yes. Whatever you want.”

I leaned in. “Whatever I want?”

“Yes,” he said.

I wicked smile curved on my lips.

“I want her.”

Confusion crossed his face. “her?”

I held his gaze.

“I want Elena.”