Valentina #2
Silence fills the kitchen.
Then she lets out a long, slow breath and drags a hand through her perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a way that tells me she's more rattled than she wants to admit.
"You guys are making this so hard on me," she mutters.
I blink. "You guys?"
"Yes." She turns to face me fully. "Salvatore summoned me a couple of days ago.."
Everything in me goes still.
"What?"
"To my fucking surprise," she continues, leaning back against the counter, "he didn't tell me to drop the case."
"What did he say?"
Her expression shifts, something heavier settling into her features.
"He told me to make sure I didn't put you in harm's way again."
I see the guilt flash across her face, quick and painful, and suddenly we're both back in that moment. Her looking at my bruised face on the video call, with tears streaming down her face, apologizing over and over for something that was never her fault.
"I hate what happened to you, Valentina," she says quietly. "I hate that I—"
"Don't," I cut her off, stepping closer. "Lin, I wouldn't have taken that chance if it were anyone else. You told me not to go alone. That was on me. Not you."
Her face crumples slightly.
Mine probably does too. “That shit was fucking nuts, Lin. Like… a really bad movie.”
“I can see that. You’ve always been a terrible actress,” she says dryly.
I huff out a laugh. “Okay, fair. But at least I’m not worse than you, right?”
She smirks. “Oh, I won’t argue with that.”
And then we're both laughing and crying at the same time, the tension breaking in the only way it can between best friends who've been through too much to keep pretending they're fine.
"I missed you," I say through the tears.
She shakes her head, wiping under her eyes with the heel of her hand. "God, this is insane."
"Tell me about it."
She looks down at the envelope again, her expression sobering.
"So," I ask her quietly, "what do you think? Take the money and run?"
I let out a slow breath, leaning against the counter beside her.
"I don't know."
She studies me for a long moment, her sharp lawyer's gaze seeing far more than I'm comfortable with.
Then she shakes her head.
"I can't tell you what to do, Val. You already know what you want."
My chest tightens.
"Do I?"
"Yeah," she says softly. "You do. You just don't want to admit it yet."
She reaches over and squeezes my hand.
"You don't need my permission, or anyone else's, to love who you want to love."
"But I'm afraid," I admit, the confession tearing out of me before I can stop it. "I'm afraid of who I'd become. Of what loving him means."
Her expression softens in a way that makes my throat tight.
"You're so incredible, Val," she says gently. "Strong and smart and good. I don't think he could make you darker even if he tried."
A pause.
"If anything…" Her smile is small but genuine. "I think you'd make his life lighter."
I wasn't expecting that, but I’m so glad to get her perspective.
"What are you going to do?" she asks.
"I don't know." I take her hands into mine.
"But if I do go through with it…" I hesitate, then meet her eyes. "Will you be there? As my maid of honor?"
Her answer is immediate.
"I'll be there."
Relief crashes through me, and I almost start crying again.
"But," she adds, pointing at me with mock sternness, "if you don't show up, I will come find you. And we'll drink expensive wine and eat our weight in cheese and never look back.”
"Deal."
“Seriously, you don’t owe anyone anything. Not even Salvatore.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “If anything, he owes you. Everything in that envelope? That’s barely a start after the way he forced himself into your life.”
I laugh through the emotion clogging my throat.
"Don't feel pressured," she says more softly. "Do what's in your heart, Val. Not what you think you're supposed to do.”
"I love you so much, Lindsay," I say. "I missed all your wisdom."
"And I missed all your chaos," she shoots back with a grin.
We're both laughing again, the weight lifting just enough to breathe.
Then she claps her hands, her eyes brightening.
"Now," she says, "take me for a spin in that fancy Mercedes I know he bought you."
I raise a brow. "Please. You drive a Maybach on your days off."
"Yes," she says, grabbing her bag, "but you used to drive a Honda."
I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling as I follow her toward the door.
"When will he realize you don't actually care about any of this luxury?" she asks over her shoulder.
"Who knows," I say. "But it's fine."
I glance back at her, a small smile playing at my lips.
"He can spoil me. I enjoy his efforts."
Lindsay laughs, shaking her head. “You’re in way too deep.”
I don’t answer right away.
Because the truth is… she might be right.
* * *
Later that night, I sit alone in my apartment.
I haven’t been here for nearly three months. Everything is exactly how I left it, including the leftover lasagna on the counter that I apparently forgot to put away.
“Hm. I was supposed to have you for dinner after work.”
I pick it up and toss it into the trash.
I look around at the space I once loved. It’s clean, soft lighting, carefully chosen details meant to make it feel warm, and cozy just how I like it.
It should feel like home, but… it doesn’t.
Not anymore.
Because the truth is, even before I ended up in his mansion… the moment Salvatore walked into that library, something shifted. Something I didn’t understand then, but I do now.
He consumed me.
I sink back against the couch, my fingers curling into the fabric as memories creep in, uninvited and impossible to ignore.
That night plays in my mind, the way my body reacted to him before I even knew his name, just…
Sal. The way I lay awake afterward, restless, aching, wanting something I couldn’t explain.
Wanting him.
And now…
Now I know what it feels like when he actually touches me.
Not the version I imagined in the dark, not the safe, distant fantasy I could control, but the real thing. The weight of his presence. The way his hands claimed me.
It was more than I ever imagined.
More dangerous.
More consuming.
I close my eyes, pressing my lips together as heat floods through me.
The memory of him, his length pressed against me, buried deep inside me, taking my body in ways I didn't even know were possible.
The way he kissed me like a man starved, whispering he loved me against my mouth.
The way he looked into my eyes while he drove himself to the hilt, unapologetic and possessive, claiming every inch of me like it was his right.
But it's more than that.
It's the way we sat together in the garden, in the quiet moments, when he encouraged me with that steady, unwavering voice. The way he trusts me with his darkest desires, peeling back layers no one else gets to see.
The envelope rests on the table in front of me.
Freedom.
A life that could be anything I want it to be.
All I have to do is walk away.
My fingers hover over it, trembling slightly.
I think about my mother’s advice.
Never give up your power.
I think about the girl I used to be, the one who believed in right and wrong, in justice and truth, in a world that made sense.
And I think about the woman I'm becoming. The woman… I became.
The one who understands that nothing is that simple.
The one who's fallen for a man who’s surrounded by darkness.
The one who might be willing to step into the darkness with him.
My phone buzzes. A text from Lindsay. Should I come over? Stay the night?
Me: I can’t believe he’s letting me choose.
Lindsay: He loves you. I’ll give him that.
I pick up the envelope, feeling its weight in my hands.
Then I stand, walking to the window, looking out at the city that's become both prison and home.
Somewhere out there, Salvatore is probably standing at his own window.
Waiting.
Wondering.
Giving me the space to decide.
I think about my life with Salvatore. Glamorous, intense, all-consuming in a way that somethings leave no room to breathe. Then I think about the life I had before… and the one I could still have. Something steady. Something I built on my own. A life I can be proud of. A life that’s mine.
I had a dream once, before him.
And the truth is… Salvatore didn’t take that from me. If anything, he made it possible. Because of him, doors opened. Opportunities I never would’ve reached on my own are suddenly within reach.
But loving him?
Wanting him?
That’s where everything gets complicated.
Because nothing about him is simple. Nothing about us is.
And I can’t help but wonder… how can one man be worth risking all of it?
I close my eyes, the weight of the question settling deep in my chest.
When I open them again, the answer is there.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
The only thing left to figure out…
Is whether I’m brave enough to follow through.