"You okay?" I asked, already moving toward the door.
"Fine. Adrenaline wearing off, I think." She pulled on the jacket, and I caught the way she swayed slightly before steadying herself. "I'm good. Let's go."
We took the private elevator down to the underground garage. My security team had already swept it twice and positioned two guards at each entrance. The bodies from upstairs were being removed, blood cleaned, and evidence secured.
By morning, there would be no trace of what happened here. Just another expensive penthouse in the city.
My backup vehicle waited in the far corner—an armored Mercedes, bulletproof glass, run-flat tires. Keys already in the ignition courtesy of Domenico's efficiency.
"In," I said.
Valentina moved around to the passenger side, but her steps were slightly uneven. I noticed immediately—the careful precision she'd shown all week was gone, replaced by something looser, less controlled.
"Valentina?" I crossed to her side of the car.
"I'm fine." She reached for the door handle, missed it by an inch. Tried again, her movements sluggish. "Just tired. It's been a long night."
But her pupils were dilated. Too dilated for the ambient lighting. And her skin had gone pale, almost gray.
"Valentina, look at me," I ordered, tilting her chin up.
Her eyes struggled to focus, kept sliding away from mine. "Alessio, I don't feel—"
Her knees buckled.
I caught her before she hit the concrete, her weight collapsing against me in a way that sent ice through my veins.
"Valentina. Valentina, stay with me."
She tried. Her mouth moved, but words wouldn't form properly. Just slurred sounds that might have been my name.
That's when I saw it. Small dart embedded in her neck, barely visible beneath her hair. Hidden by the high collar of the jacket I'd tossed her.
Professional-grade tranquilizer. The kind designed with a delayed absorption—built-in safety mechanism so the operative has time to extract before the target drops.
"No, no, no." I pulled the dart free and checked her pulse. Still strong but slowing with each beat. "Stay with me. Don't you dare—"
"Sorry," she managed, voice barely a whisper. "Should've… told you… something felt wrong…"
Her eyes rolled back.
She went limp in my arms.
CHAPTER 8
Valentina
Iwoke slowly, consciousness returning in fragments.
Soft bed. Clean sheets. The smell of pine and wood smoke. Sunlight filtering through unfamiliar windows.
Not the penthouse. Not the car. Somewhere else entirely.
My body felt heavy, sluggish, like I was moving through water. My neck throbbed where—
The dart. The garage. Collapsing in Alessio's arms.
I sat up too fast, the room spinning. Strong hands caught my shoulders, steadied me.
