MY CASANOVA MAFIA CHAPTER 7

He got up from the bed, his presence still choking her even though she had physical space. He took one last lingering look at her and turned to leave the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

 Valentine lay there, shivering with a mix of anger, fear, and confusion. Her wrists throbbed from where he had held her; it was her pride, however, that hurt the most.

She would never give in to him. Never.

No matter how much her body might betray her, her spirit would be unbroken.

Arnulfo paces the room, his cell phone wedged into his ear. The sharp tone of his second-in-command, Marco, came through loud and clear, each word tightening the coil of tension in his chest.

"Boss, it's Victoria," Marco said, his voice heavy with urgency. "She knows about Valentine. She's furious—and she's issued orders to find her. The Giupere gang is already mobilizing."

 Arnulfo's jaw clenched, and his free hand balled into a fist at his side. What he had fought hard to prevent-precisely that, was happening.His enemies were closing in, and Valentine, not even aware that there was a storm brewing around her, was the target.

"How did she find out?" Arnulfo demanded, his voice low and growling with anger.

"There's a mole in the group," Marco confessed awkwardly. "We still can't track who, but the news leaked faster than we anticipated."

Arnulfo muttered under his breath for a string of curses, his mind racing. Victoria Giupere was not just furious; she was dangerous. Her wounded pride, ambition, and ruthless goal made her a fierce opponent, and now, her eyes were on Valentine.

"Double the security at all known locations," Arnulfo said. "I don't want a single loose end."

" And Valentine?" Marco asked cautiously.

Arnulfo's grip on the phone tightened. His gaze flicked toward the room where Valentine was, her presence a mix of fire and fragility that he couldn't afford to lose.

"I will handle Valentine," he declared firmly. "No one gets near her. Not Victoria, not anyone."

"Understood boss," Marco replied.

Arnulfo ended the call, his face grim as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. He'd expected threats, even known that his enemies would retaliate, but the involvement of Victoria complicated matters. She was relentless, and her connections ran deep.

He went back to Valentine, his head churning on plans of keeping her inside. As he entered, she was still sitting in the bed, eyes squinted at him approaching.

"What next?" she asked sharply.

Arnulfo didn't answer right then. He leaned against the door frame and looked at her warmly. She was headstrong, obstinate, and completely oblivious to danger.

“Pack your things,” he said suddenly, his voice sharp.

Valentine blinked, surprised. She only had a small bag with her from when she went to the diamond club for rehearsal. The memories of being kidnapped by Arnulfo flooded back. “What? Why?” she asked, confusion and fear mixing in her voice.

“We’re leaving,” Arnulfo replied, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Valentine’s eyes blazed with defiance. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

"You have no option," he said unhesitatingly, stepping nearer. "Victoria knows everything about you. She will bring her men to look for you and rest assured Valentine, you don't want to get caught between those arms of hers." Just by mentioning Victoria, gave her an icy shiver and yet she fought to compose herself. "So what, then you mean to say I should put all my trust in you, Valentine, the man who abducted me?"

Arnulfo's expression turned solemn. "Would you really think I would go through all this trouble just to hand you over to them? You're safer with me."

Valentine crossed her arms, still not convinced. "Why should I believe anything you're telling me?"

"Because," he said, his voice dropping low, "as much as you hate me, they will do worse. They'll use you to hurt me, and when they're done, they won't let you live.

He hung the words of his and, heavy and hard to ignore, like a dropped weight on the silent air. She hated the truth in them; a small fear fell inside her.

"Pack your things," he repeated, softer this time. "Please."

A long moment they stood still, the tension thick between them. Finally, Valentine nodded, her resolve wavering just enough to follow his lead.

Arnulfo stepped out of the room, giving her some space. His mind raced with plans. He wouldn’t let Victoria—or anyone else—hurt Valentine.

Not while he was still alive.

Valentine sat on the bed's edge, her heart pounding as she stared at the small bag in front of her that she had brought to the Diamond Club that fatal night. It was a sharp reminder of the life she had left behind—a life that seemed like only a remote memory these days. She fumbled through the bag with shaking hands. Essentials and a change of clothes and a makeup kit-all that she had brought with her.

She could hear Arnulfo pacing outside the room, the heavy footsteps echoing down the hall. The weight of his words lingered in her mind. Victoria knows about you. The name itself carried an ominous weight, and though Valentine hated to admit it, she believed Arnulfo. There was no reason for him to lie about something like this, especially when he seemed so genuinely agitated.

Her thoughts swirled, trying to make sense of everything. Was Arnulfo trying to protect her or another layer of manipulation?

The door creaked open slightly, and Arnulfo's voice called out. "Are you ready?"

Valentine bit her lip and stood, slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I don't have much to pack," she muttered, opening the door to face him.

Arnulfo's eyes drifted over her, his face unmoved. "That's enough," he said. He reached as if to take her bag, but she retreated.

"I have it," she said sharply.

He darted a faint smirk, and a flicker of amusement chased down a strictly horizontal line along his usually tense features. "Suit yourself."

They walked down the beige hallway, with the stress between them so palpable. Valentine could feel Arnulfo at her side; every step he took had a precision to it that seemed deliberate.

As she followed him into the main room, she couldn't help but steal glances at him. He slung a sleek black duffel bag over one shoulder, moving with an air of control and purpose that somehow rivaled even the mayhem around them.