Valentina's POV:
Valentina's lectures were a meaningless drone, a cacophony of words that blurred into an indistinguishable hum. Her mind was a battlefield, replaying the horror of Marco's video, Dante's chillingly calm face, and the agonizing scream that still echoed in her ears. The anger, cold and sharp, was a constant companion, preventing the tears that threatened to fall.
When the shrill ring of the last lecture bell finally pierced the haze, Valentina moved with a singular purpose. She didn't bother to pack her bag neatly, simply shoving her books inside and slinging it over her shoulder. Her feet carried her instinctively towards the campus café, the one place she knew Isabella would be.
Isabella was already there, perched on a stool at their usual window table, her brow furrowed with worry. As Valentina approached, Isabella's anxious gaze met hers, a silent question passing between them.
"Isa," Valentina breathed, sliding into the seat opposite her. The normalcy of the café, the low hum of student chatter, felt like a cruel joke. "It's worse than you can imagine."
She recounted everything, her voice low and steady despite the tremor in her hands. She described the video, Dante's casual cruelty, his horrifying declaration of possession, and the blood that had splattered across the screen. She didn't spare Isabella the details of Marco's defiant last words, or the gut-wrenching sound of his scream.
Isabella listened, her face draining of color with every word. When Valentina finished, Isabella reached across the table, taking Valentina's hands in a firm grip. "Val, oh my god. He's... he's a monster." Her voice was hushed, filled with a shared horror. "We have to get you out of here. Now."
Valentina shook her head fiercely. "Run? Isa, this is my life. My studies. Everything I've worked for. I can't just abandon it. I have to fight him." The words felt hollow, even to her own ears.
"This isn't a time for bravery, Val," Isabella countered, her gaze unwavering. "This is a time for survival. He won't stop. He's proven that. He has contacts everywhere. He'll find you. He'll make you his, no matter what you do. He's already 'handled' Marco. Do you think he won't come for you, for your family, for anyone who tries to help you?"
Valentina flinched. The cold logic of Isabella's words chipped away at her defiance. The fear that had been simmering beneath her anger began to solidify. Dante's reach was terrifyingly vast, a silent, unseen web.
"But where would I go?" Valentina whispered, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. "Even if I leave, he'll just track me down."
Isabella's eyes suddenly lit up, a spark of desperate inspiration. "I have an idea. It's... crazy. But it might just work." She leaned in conspiratorially. "My cousin, Leo. He lives in Australia. He's a total green flag, Val, believe me. And he's in a similar situation. His parents are hounding him to get married, but he's just not interested in a serious relationship right now. He just wants them off his back."
Valentina stared, her mind struggling to comprehend. "You mean... a marriage of convenience?"
Isabella nodded. "Exactly! On paper only. You'd be legally married, but you'd have completely separate lives. No physical, no intimacy, nothing. It's just a way for both of you to get what you need: you get a new identity, a new country, and a shield from Dante. He gets his parents off his back. You won't enter each other's lives in any meaningful way. It's just a solution."
The idea was outlandish, a desperate leap into the unknown. But the image of Dante's chilling smile, of Marco's screaming face, flashed behind her eyes. It was either this, or becoming Dante's possession.
"What about my parents?" Valentina finally asked, the words catching in her throat. "My brother? What will I tell them?"
"Tell them he's the love of your life," Isabella said, her voice gentle but firm. "That you met him, fell head over heels, and decided to elope. It's the only story that makes sense for such a sudden departure. It's messy, but it's believable enough to buy you time."
Valentina closed her eyes, the enormity of the decision crushing her. Her life, her carefully constructed future, was crumbling. But Isabella was right. This wasn't about bravery; it was about survival.
A fresh wave of panic washed over Valentina at the thought of facing this impossible future alone. "Isa," she whispered, her voice cracking, "If I go... I need my best friend. I need you. I can't... I can't live without you."
Isabella's grip tightened on Valentina's hand. "You won't have to, Val," she said, her voice firm and unwavering. "We're in this together. Always. I'll come with you."
"I... I need to think about it," Valentina said, her voice barely a whisper, though a sliver of hope had just flickered within her. "I'll tell you soon."
Isabella squeezed her hand again. "Be careful, Val. We only have two days. We graduate in two days. We have to escape then, not before, not after. That's when we have the best chance of slipping away without anyone noticing. It's our window."
Valentina nodded, her mind already racing. Two days. Two days to decide to marry a stranger to escape a monster. The clock was ticking.
Valentina left the café, the weight of Isabella's words pressing down on her. She still had her library shift. The familiar path to the campus library felt alien, every student, every passerby, a potential spy. She worked her shift on autopilot, shelving books, stamping returns, her mind a frantic hum of possibilities and fears. When it was time to collect her salary, Mrs. Arora, the head librarian, handed her the envelope with a kind smile. "For your graduation celebrations, dear." Valentina managed a weak smile in return.
As she stepped out into the twilight, clutching the envelope, her eyes scanned the street. Just beyond the campus gates, parked subtly under the shade of a large oak tree, was a sleek, black sedan. It was far enough away not to draw immediate suspicion, but close enough to make Valentina's blood run cold. It wasn't moving. Just sitting there, watching. She quickened her pace, her heart thumping against her ribs.
She practically ran the rest of the way home, locking the door behind her with trembling hands. Her apartment felt less like a sanctuary and more like a cage. She threw her bag onto the floor, the heavy silence amplifying her paranoia.
Just as she was about to take a much-needed shower, her phone rang. It was her mother. Valentina took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
"Valentina, darling? How are you?" Her mother's voice was warm, but a little too cheerful. "Your father and I were just talking. With graduation coming up so soon, we thought... well, we've had a few lovely young men reach out. Very respectable families. You should meet them. Just a few dates, you know. Pick the one you like."
Valentina's stomach churned. Arranged marriages. Another kind of cage. The irony was bitter. "Mom, please. I'm really busy with exams and graduation. I'll... I'll see to it and tell you later. I promise." She forced a lightness into her voice she didn't feel.
"Alright, darling. Just don't wait too long!" her mother chuckled, oblivious to the storm raging inside her daughter.
"I won't," Valentina mumbled, quickly ending the call. The world was closing in on her, from every direction.
Exhaustion finally claimed her. She forced down a small dinner, the food tasteless, then took a quick, scalding shower, trying to wash away the creeping sense of dread. She collapsed into bed, the last two days weighing heavily on her mind, and fell into a deep, uneasy sleep.
Sometime in the night, a warmth settled behind her, spooning against her back. A heavy arm draped over her waist, pulling her flush against a firm, unfamiliar chest. Valentina stirred, half-asleep, her mind clouded by dreams. A breath stirred the hair at her temple, then a soft press of lips against her neck, followed by a series of gentle nips that sent a faint tingle through her skin. She mumbled something, subconsciously leaning into the warmth, thinking it was a dream, a comforting phantom from a forgotten past.
The kisses deepened, trailing down her neck, lingering. A hand, large and possessive, slid slowly from her waist to her hip, settling there, holding her close. She shifted slightly, still lost in the haze of sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The presence behind her remained, a silent, watchful shadow through the long hours of the night. He simply held her, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to her hair or the curve of her neck, a terrifyingly tender guardian of her unconscious state. He didn't leave. He simply stayed, a dark sentinel.
The first sliver of dawn painted the sky outside her window. A slight shift in the bed. The weight lifted, the warmth receded. A final, lingering touch on her hair, and then silence. He was gone.
She woke abruptly minutes later, the weak sunlight doing little to dispel the lingering chill in her bones. A faint soreness in her neck. She stretched, then moved towards the bathroom, her reflection in the mirror catching her eye.
Her breath hitched.
On her neck, just beneath her jawline, were several dark, purplish bruises. Hickeys. They weren't from a passionate embrace; they were possessive marks, stark against her pale skin. Her eyes widened in horror. She hadn't dreamed it. He had been there. In her bed. While she slept. All night.
Her hand flew to her throat, a choked gasp escaping her lips. The violation was absolute, bone-deep. She felt dirty, terrified, sickened to her core.
She stumbled back into her bedroom, her gaze frantic. And then she saw it. On her nightstand, where her alarm clock usually sat, was a single, neatly folded piece of paper. Not the crumpled note from yesterday, but a fresh one. Her hands trembled violently as she unfolded it.
The elegant, familiar script filled the page:
"Just one more day before I make you mine completely. Yours, Dante."
The paper fluttered to the floor as Valentina sank to her knees, dry heaving, her mind reeling. He hadn't just watched her; he had touched her. He had stolen her peace, her safety, her very body in her sleep. And he was counting down. One more day.
The terror was an icy grip around her heart, squeezing, suffocating. The shame, the revulsion, the absolute powerlessness. All her defiance, all her stubborn pride, shattered in that moment. There was no fighting him. There was only running.
Her phone lay on the bed, a lifeline. With trembling fingers, she picked it up and dialed Isabella, her voice a strained whisper as soon as her friend answered. "Isa. It's me."
"Val! What is it? You sound..." Isabella's voice trailed off, hearing the raw terror in Valentina's tone.
"Tell me everything about Leo," Valentina choked out, her voice barely audible. "We leave tomorrow. No matter what. And... and we need to make the plan today. Come to my home. Now. ASAP."
There was a moment of shocked silence from Isabella's end, likely processing the absolute finality and desperation in Valentina's voice. Then, a quick, sharp intake of breath. "I'm on my way," Isabella said, her voice grim, understanding the gravity of the shift without needing further explanation. The line clicked dead.
Valentina dropped the phone onto the duvet, her gaze falling back to the monstrous hickeys on her neck. One more day. He wouldn't get it. Not if she had anything left to fight for. The clock was ticking, and this time, she was truly running for her life.