The phone vibrates in my pocket, a low hum that sets my nerves on edge. By the time it rings again, my heart feels like it's going to burst from my chest.
I answer on the second ring.
"It's a representative of the Valenti Syndicate," comes the calm response.
Professional, as if announcing the weather.
It was this fast.
I barely have time to answer before the alley is swallowed in shadows. Four men appeared, their presence ... Too much.
Black suits, black sunglasses, and holstered weapons, the unmistakable uniform of Ren Valenti's enforcers.
Panic comes.
My feet take a step back, but the men move in, tightening the circle around me.
"Hello, Miss Elena," one says smoothly.
"H hello," I stutter, my voice cracking. My gaze went to the mouth of the alley, searching for an escape. There's none.
"Um...how is Mr. Valenti?"
I asked dumbly again..
"He's fine, thanks to you, Miss Elena. Very grateful," the man replies, his tone devoid of gratitude, though his words drip with menace.
I swallow hard.
"Oh, good. I'm glad to hear he's...he's okay." My voice falters, and my knees feel like they might give out.
Ren Valenti doesn't forgive, doesn't forget. This is what everyone knows ... What everyone learned.
I've thrown myself into the lion's den.
I force a weak laugh. "Tell Mr. Valenti thanks, but really, there's no need to express his gratitude. I'd rather not... um, get involved further."
I take another step back, but one of the men is right behind me now, preventing me from going any farther.
The man in front of me steps closer, his smile almost kind ... almost.
"You're involved now, miss Elena" His eyes flicker and paused to the blood seeping through my apron ...
"We can't let you walk around with a target on your back. Someone might get ideas. Might hurt you." His tone drops, low.
I open my mouth to protest, but the words die in my throat. Two of the men step to my sides, their presence a physical wall.
"Where are you taking me?" I manage to croak.
"To see Mr. Valenti."
Oh no.
Oh no oh no oh no.
No one's have ever seen him and the one's who did ...
Never returned.
The bottom drops out of my stomach. "No, no, no. Please."
One says, his voice almost gentle. "We're not going to hurt you."
"Not until you get me to him," I whisper, trembling.
He frowns. "Why would Mr. Valenti hurt you? You saved his life, miss Elena"
He exchanges a look with his men,
I take their moment of distraction as my opportunity.
Im not going to die without a fight, anyway.
I ran when one of the men grab me,
with a desperate cry, I drive my fist into the nose of the enforcer, he stumbles back with a curse.
" Fuck," Blood streams down his chin as he tries to grab me.
I ran faster, the pain in my side awful, but adrenaline propels me forward.
Two steps,
three ...
A hand clamps around my arm like a steel vice, yanking me backward.
"Enough!" The enforcer twists my arm behind my back, slamming me into the side of a black SUV. The breath whooshes out of my lungs, and i bite down hard on my lip to keep from screaming.
I kick but its useless.
"Don't struggle." he growls.
Shoving me toward the open door.
Tears of frustration burn in my eyes.
I'm in deep trouble.
I'm going to die.
Ren Valenti is going to have me killed. But why bother to take me to him first?
Maybe to torture me before I die?
To make an example of me to anyone who might think of trying to do anything to him?
God. What did I do?
Why didn't I just mind my own business?
I'm going to go down in the annals of history as the stupidest girl who ever lived.
Ren Valenti's assassins are taking me to the man himself and there is nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is close my eyes, pray and try not to throw up.
----
The room is cold.
Ren Valenti has a reputation for being cold. A man who can't be touched by emotion.
Some people say he was born without the capacity. Others say the ability to care was taken from him.
I never really believed those stories, even though my mother warned me about him the moment I started working at the café before she passed away.
She grew up on the streets of this city and knows all the rumors, all the stories.
The worst ones are about the man I'm currently being dragged before.
Ren Valenti stands silhouetted against a wall of glass, the glittering cityscape stretching out behind him.
His posture is rigid, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the horizon like a predator surveying its territory.
This city is his and everyone in it, including me, is a pawn on his chessboard. My life is nothing but a game to him.
I know I'm in trouble.
I'm nothing but a problem for him to solve.
And he's known to have a ruthless method of solving problems.
The man drag me forward, my ribs throb with every breath, but I force myself to stand tall.
"Leave us," Valenti orders without turning around.
The enforcer obey instantly, filing out and shutting the door behind him.
"Sit," he commands, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
My legs move before I can think, and I sink into the chair, gripping the armrests to keep my hands from shaking.
I'm barely holding on to my sanity as it is.
Valenti turns, and I finally see him clearly.
He looks surprisingly young ...
He's tall and broad ,his frame powerful yet lean. A tailored black suit clings to him like a second skin, immaculate despite the chaos of the day. His face is all sharp angles and cold precision,
but it's his eyes that send a shiver down my spine.
His blue dark eyes. burning with a fury that threatens to consume me whole.
There's a cut on his cheek and one on his forehead,but other than that, there is no outward sign that he was just involved in a shooting.
I half expect to see blood covering his clothes, but there isn't any.
Just a man who looks like he belongs on the cover of a fashion magazine ... that's not the right time to think of this
... Shit.
"Why did you save me?"
The question catches me off guard. "I... I don't know," I stutter.
"You don't know?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous.
"I didn't think," I whisper, my throat dry. "I just acted."
"You acted," he repeats.
"Yes," I whisper. "And now you're going to kill me."
He looks surprised, "Kill you?"
"Y yes,"
"Why would I kill you?" he asks, his dark brows arching.
He's too intimidating ...
I blink. "Because you think I was involved in the assassination attempt."
"Why would you think that?"
"Because I pushed you from a bullet meant for you. Of course you think I was involved in it."
He doesn't speak for a long moment. Finally, he shakes his head. "No. That never occurred to me."
"What? Never?" I'm confused.
"I know everyone in this city, Miss Marlowe. I have eyes and ears in every corner of every street. If you were involved, I would have known about it beforehand."
"You're saying you have spies?"
"Yes," he agrees, leaning back in his chair. "If I didn't, I'd be dead by now."
"I suppose that's true," I say, staring down at my hands in my lap.
"Look at me," he says, and his voice is hard. Demanding.
Slowly, I lift my chin and meet his eyes.
Silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.
Finally, he leans forward, his hands braced on the desk. "Miss Marlowe, you've done something no one else has dared to do. You risked your life for mine."
I flinch, expecting him to lash out, but instead, he studies me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.
I stare at him for a long time before I say anything.
"I don't...I don't understand."
"Don't play dumb, Miss Marlowe." His smile is thin and cold.