Valentina’s POV The jungle was a green blur, branches clawing at my face as I stumbled through the undergrowth. Blood seeped from the gash at my waist, hot and sticky, soaking my torn shirt. The jaguar’s roar still echoed in my ears, its yellow piercing eyes burned into my memory. My legs burned, my lungs screamed, but I couldn’t stop. Not with Tariq Al-Mansour and his blood hound-like men somewhere behind me, breathing down my neck, their taunts slicing through the cicadas’ screech like knives. I pressed my hand against the wound, wincing as pain lanced through me. I could hear every rustle, every snap of a twig, but the jungle was a labyrinth, and I was running out of strength. My vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting dangerously. Keep moving, Valentina. You’re not dying here. Not today. The jaguar’s roar faded as I stumbled on, but Tariq’s men had heard it too—their voices cut through the jungle, closer now, drawn by my earlier screams and trail of blood.
Tariq Al Mansour’s POV “Miles!” I snapped. “Why the hell does she have to be deep in to the Peruvian jungle?” I flipped open the satellite phone, the heat from my fingers making the metal sweat. Miles wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Their last traceable transaction was hiring a local guide. Not exactly what we wanted but...” The air was thick with humidity. The jungle reeked of wet leaves and decay, cicadas shrieking in a nonstop chorus that drilled into my skull. Birds screeched overhead, each one a fresh insult to my patience. “My buyer’s getting impatient,” I muttered. “And so am I.” “How is a spoiled princess like her still alive?” Khalid grumbled, ducking beneath a fallen tree trunk and stepping over a patch of sucking mud. “She’s got a Ricchezza backing her,” Miles said with a slow grin. “And a frankly absurd amount of luck. But as you know, Khalid… luck doesn’t last forever.” “We were so close,” Khalid sighed. “We almost sniped her in Denmark
Valentina’s POV The air in the portable lab in Cusco was humid. Outside, the mountain peaks of the Andes in Peru became a dark blue silhouette against the twilight sky, their sharp peaks indifferent to the chaos unfolding within these walls. Inside, the air was sharp with antiseptic and the faint, lingering sweetness of the red flower’s pollen—a cruel reminder of the madness we’d barely escaped. Raffaele sat on the edge of his cot, his dark hair disheveled, his linen shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the sharp lines of his chest. The IV drip was gone, but his skin still carried a faint sickly pallor, a ghost of the flower’s grip. He was awake. They all were—captain Hembapu, Tatekulu, Commander Kalenga, Chief Nangolo, Kaifeng Lei, Professor Calancha, and the two Bone Sons. The sacred water from Gurudongmar Lake had worked, just as Deva Pran promised. But the relief flooding my veins was tangled with doubt and guilt, and the weight of what I’d done back in that curse
Valentina’s POV The mobile lab thrummed on the outskirts of Cusco in Peru, its sterile walls vibrating with the pulse of machines. Beyond the windows, the Andes loomed, their peaks slicing upwards towards a twilight sky. Inside, the air was thick with antiseptic and dread. All of them—Raffaele, Captain Hembapu, Tatekulu, Commander Kalenga, Chief Nangolo, Kaifeng Lei, Professor Calancha, and the two Bone Sons—lay motionless on cots, pale as death, IV drips still feeding into their arms. Their shallow breaths formed a haunting rhythm, each one fighting the red flower’s poison from Machu Picchu, the garden of madness. The orichalcum coin from Gilgamesh’s tomb glinted under the lab’s harsh lights, a relic of my father’s obsession—and my own. Matteo hunched over the spectrometer, his fingers darting across the controls. “The red flower’s serum bonds with orichalcum in a way we’ve never seen,” he said, voice tight with excitement. “It’s a chain reaction—exponential energy ou
Valentina’s POV “You sound tired, Valentina,” Domenico said casually, patiently waiting for my answer. “I just watched everyone I care about try to kill each other,” I muttered. “So yeah, I’m tired.” I felt the exhaustion in my bones already. He let out a quiet laugh. “So… Machu Picchu lived up to it’s reputation. And now you call me when you are already in a pickle. Not earlier, when it could’ve made a difference?” “You knew.” My voice was flat. “Of course I knew,” he replied easily. “Valentina, I fund and oversee everything tied to the Ricchezza Research Network. That includes the oil subsidiaries, the labs, and the teams working under Raffaele. Everyone reports to me.” I rubbed my temple. “And you didn’t feel like telling me because…?” “Because I didn’t think you’d listen. Or care, for that matter. You’ve made your loyalties very ambiguous for a wife…” He paused just long enough to let the venom sting and land through the phone. “Though from what I hear, Raffaele nearly
Valentina’s POV I knelt on the edge of the terrace, the jungle pulsing with heat and humidity around us. The garden shimmered like a fever dream. Petals the color of blood and flame swayed in the misty air—flor de fuego, the fabled “flower of fire.” I couldn’t look away. It was so beautiful. I reached up to brush a strand of hair from my face when my bracelet—an 18k gold filled stainless steel one slipped from my wrist. It was an earlier gift from Raffaele. I didn’t want to risk losing a real 24k one. “No—!” I gasped. It fell, tumbling into the bed of blossoms with a soft thud. Then came the hiss. A curl of smoke. The bracelet melted within seconds, falling tarnished and deformed into the petals as if swallowed by acid. My breath caught. “Oh my god…” The flower could really melt stone, and even metal! And this? This confirmed the myth. A breeze stirred through the clearing—playful at first, then sharp. It picked up the golden pollen and flung it into the ai