CHAPTER 1: THE CHASE

Valentina's POV 

My heart pounded in my chest with every step I took, the cold night air biting at my skin as I raced through the darkened streets. I was running—running from him, from Franco Russo, my Father. A man who in every way that mattered, had never treated me like his daughter.

I could hear the shouts of his men echoing in the distance, their footsteps closing in. I had to hide. I had to find a way out. My breath came in ragged gasps as I ducked into a narrow alley, pressing myself against the cold, damp wall.

My pulse raced as I peeked around the corner, watching the shadows move swiftly under the streetlights.

“She couldn't have gone far,” I heard one of them bark, his voice laced with frustration. “Franco wants her back—now.”

This wasn't the first time I had tried to escape, but tonight felt different and I'd come further than the other times. I was desperate. I couldn't go back. Not to that suffocating house. No… not to the cold glares and cruel remarks.

“Franco will have our heads if we don't find her,” another voice muttered, this one tinged with fear.

The memory of my mother flashed in my mind. The last person who had ever shown me an ounce of love. She had died protecting me, taking a bullet that was meant for me. That day had changed everything.

Franco's cruelty towards me had only intensified after her death. He blamed me—still blamed me—for her death.

“She died because of you, Valentina. You killed her,” his voice echoed in my mind, that familiar taunt cutting through me like a knife.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. I couldn't dwell on that now. I had to focus on surviving and escaping from Franco's grasp.

I peered around the corner, watching as the men turned their backs momentarily, lamps in their hands, pointing at every corner of the darkness. It was my chance. I darted out from the corner where I hid myself and tiptoed quickly down the alley, my footsteps silent as I moved.

But just as I thought I was safe, a harsh beam of light caught me in its blinding glare.

“There she is! Don't let her escape!”

I ran. I ran faster than I ever had in my life but I could still feel them getting closer. The alleyways seemed narrower, the city itself felt like it was turning against me. I could hear their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, their shouts growing louder.

My lungs burned, my legs felt heavy but I refused to stop. I refused to let them catch up with me. But the city still felt like a maze and every turn seemed to bring me closer to them. Panic clawed at my throat. There was no way out.

I looked back over my shoulder to see how far they've come closer to me but just as I turned my head, I stumbled again, my ankle twisting painfully beneath me as I fell to the ground. My hands scraped against the cold pavement.

I bit hard on a cry, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I tried to push myself up but my body was betraying me. I was exhausted. I was broken.

But I couldn't give up.

I glanced up, blinking through the pain. And in the distance, I heard the low growl of engines. Franco. I guessed. He was coming. I could hear my heartbeat as I dragged myself to my feet, limping toward a dumpster.

I pressed my back against the cold brick wall, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I heard their voices. They were too close.

“Spread out!” one of them screamed. “She couldn't have gone far… This is her necklace… she must be around… search every corner.”

I immediately reached for my neck, touching every path of my chest. I lost it… it must have fallen off when I stumbled. 

It was the only possession I had of my mother. It was a gift from her on my twelfth birthday. I peeped to see who found the necklace but I couldn't get a clear view. Yet, I could not afford to lose it.

I bit down on my lip, stifling a sob as I glanced down at my ankle. The pain was unbearable. I could feel the sting of blood where my skin had torn. My blonde hair was a mess, tangled and stained with dirt. My shoulder throbbed where it had scraped the pavement and I could feel the warmth of blood trickling down my arm.

I thought of my mother again—her gentle voice, her soft hands, the way she had always tried to protect me. But that thought was replaced by Franco's continuous accusations.

“This is your fault. She died because of you, Valentina.”  the words echoed, tearing through the fragile walls I'd built around myself over the years.

I squeezed my ears shut, trying to block it out but it only grew louder. “You killed her… because you wouldn't listen.”

I bit down my lip, forcing myself not to cry. Not here. Not now. But I couldn't stop the flood of memories, the accusations that had followed me for as long as I could remember.

I'd been just a child. A child who watched her mother die right in front of her. The bullet had been meant for me but my mother… she had shielded me, taking the hit without hesitation. I didn't even have time to scream before she was on the ground.

And then came Franco's wrath. He never saw my mother's death as a tragedy to mourn— only as a weakness to be blamed on me. 

“She would still be alive if it weren't for you.”

I swallowed hard as I wagged my head. How many times has he said that to me? How many times had he made sure I understood the reason for his anger?  No matter how much I wanted to forget, his words wrapped around me like chains. Franco never let me forget and no matter how much I tried to push it down, the guilt gnawed at me everyday.

“You're nothing but a burden.”      

A tear slid down my cheek as I shut my eyes but at that moment, I was snapped out of my thoughts as a flashlight beam cut through the darkness. I froze. The men were standing just a few feet away.

“There she is!” one of them shouted triumphantly. 

The flashlight hit me, blinding me for a second. I raised my hand to shield my eyes. I panicked. No. My heart dropped into my stomach. Not like this 

I tried to run but they were faster. One of them grabbed me roughly, his fingers digging into my arm as he dragged me forward.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, but my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” the man sneered, pulling me toward the street. “Franco wants you home. You know what happens when he doesn't get what he wants.”

Before I could respond, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the alley and at that moment, my heart sank.

“Well, well, the runaway returns,” Franco's voice was calm, too calm as he stepped into the light. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Did you really think you could hide from me, huh?*

I could barely breathe. His presence was suffocating, like a weight pressing down on my chest. I wanted to scream, to fight but all I could do was glare at him, my fear mingling with anger.

“I don't want anything to do with you,” I said, my voice shaking. “You've made my life a living hell.”

Franco's smile twisted, cold and cruel. “Your life is a gift, Valentina. One you don't deserve.”

“A gift?” I spat, my fists clenching at my sides. “You've kept me locked up like a prisoner, blamed me for things that weren't my fault—”

“Wasn't it your fault?” His voice rose, sharp as he interrupted. “You think you're innocent?” He stepped closer, his face inches from mine now. “Your mother died because of you. She took that bullet because of your stupidity.”

His words were like knives, cutting deeper with every syllable. I staggered back, my chest tightening as the tears I fought hard to hold back stung my eyes. I'd heard it all before. But hearing it now, again, felt like a fresh wound being ripped open.

“I was a child!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “I didn't kill her!” My voice faltered and tears finally spilled over, running down my cheeks. “I couldn't have done that to my mother.”

Franco frowned. “You don't get to absolve yourself,” he hissed. “She would still be alive if it weren't for you.” 

I shook my head, trying to force the words away but they clung to me like a curse. The guilt, the shame—it was too much. I couldn't breathe.

“Now listen to me girl.” He shot out his hand and grabbed me by my chin, forcing me to look at his face. “You belong to me.” 

I tried to lose his grip but he was too strong. “As long as you breathe, you're mine to control.” He grinned, releasing his hold. He turned to his men and ordered one of them to take me back to the mansion.

The man without hesitation grabbed me around my arm. My ankle gave out again, sending a sharp jolt of pain through me. I screamed as I held my arm but the man was less concerned. He forcefully dragged me toward the car that was up ahead.

We were nearing the car when my eyes caught something on the ground—a discarded metal pipe lying half-hidden by debris. This is it, I thought. My only chance.

I stumbled deliberately, letting out a sharp cry of pain, clutching at my ankle. The man holding me loosened his grip, startled by my sudden lurch.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his focus slipping for just a moment.

That's all I needed.

With a surge of adrenaline, I twisted sharply, yanking my arm free from his grasp. Before he could react, I lunged down, my fingers closing around the cold metal pipe. With all the strength I could muster, I swung it at him, at his leg, piercing his skin.

“You little—” he cursed, stumbling back as pain shot across his leg 

I didn't give him time to recover. With a fierce cry, I jabbed the pipe again and this time, I aimed for his ribs. He let out a loud grunt, staggering further away. The other men rushed forward, toward me.

I turned around to run but then, I bumped into him. Franco. My eyes locked with his—cold and furious.

“Do you really think…” His voice was slow, deliberate. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, I think it's time for it again.”

I blinked, confused. Time for what? My mind raced, trying to piece together what he meant.

“You've caused enough trouble tonight.” he snarled, his eyes darkened.

Before I could react, he swung his hand and caught me with the side of his palm at the back of my neck. I barely registered what had happened.

I staggered backward, stars filling my eyes as the world spun violently. Breath, Valentina, breathe. But I couldn't. My legs gave out and I crashed onto the cold pavement , my head striking the ground with a sickening thud. The impact rattled through my skull and I cried out but the sound was lost in the dizzying fog that clouded my senses. 

Move! Run! My mind screamed at me but my body betrayed me. And then, through the blur, I heard him—Franco’s voice , distant and hollow. “Sleep,” he muttered.

The last thing I saw was his shadow looking over me. Then everything went black.