Valeria's POV

"I'm scared..." Emilia's voice cracked as she spoke, the words trembling out of her like a confession she didn't know how to make. Her eyes darted away from mine, her vulnerability raw and open, filling the space between us.

I didn't say anything at first, letting the weight of her words settle. And then she continued, her voice even quieter, as though speaking it aloud might break her.

"I keep having nightmares. Every time I wake up, everything feels... wrong. Too soft, too comfortable. It hits me like a wave." She hesitated, her breathing uneven. "It's like..."

"Like you're trapped in that room," I finished for her, my voice steady and low. "Like someone will drag you back there the moment you let your guard down."

Her head snapped up, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto mine. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she bit her bottom lip hard, as though trying to keep it together, but the fight was futile. Her hand darted up to wipe away the tears, but her shoulders still shook, betraying the pain she was trying to contain.

"Their voices," she whispered. "I can still hear them. The smell of that place... it's everywhere. Sometimes, I swear they're right here with me, laughing, whispering... waiting. It's like..." She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. "It's like this life isn't real. None of it feels real."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I saw her pain, felt her fear, and it was all too familiar. It was my life-the life I'd grown up with. Except for her, it was new, suffocating, a reality she never asked for.

She hesitated, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice thick with guilt. "You probably think I'm just a weak, spoiled daddy's girl. I'm complaining about two weeks when your whole life..." She trailed off, unsure of how to finish without offending me.

She stepped away from the door, as if retreating would erase her words. As if it would erase her pain.

I stared at her, debating whether to say anything at all. But then I spoke. "True," I said softly. "I've lived my whole life in that place, in that danger. But it's all I've ever known. You..." I looked her in the eyes, wanting her to feel the weight of my words. "You were dragged from heaven to hell, and now everyone expects you to live in heaven again. But you can't-not when you know hell exists. Your feelings are valid, Emilia. Don't ever apologize for them."

Her lips trembled, and a soft, broken sob escaped her mouth. It was the same sound she made when she begged me to help her that night, and it twisted something deep inside me.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers closing around the familiar handle of the pocketknife she'd given me. Her gaze followed my hand, her expression unreadable as I pulled it out and held it toward her.

Her eyes flickered with confusion as she hesitated. "Are you... are you returning my gift?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her tears glistening in the soft light.

"No." I shook my head, the corner of my mouth lifting in a faint smile. "This is mine. I'm lending it to you... for safety."

She stared at the knife in my hand, her trembling fingers reaching out to take it. When she did, she clutched it to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Her lips curved into a smile-a smile so radiant, so pure, it made my chest ache. Why was she this happy over a knife? This girl had everything, yet she looked at me like I'd given her something priceless.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with something I couldn't place. Gratitude? Relief? Something else entirely?

But then her smile faltered, and her brows knitted together in concern. "What about you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What will you do when you have nightmares?"

I chuckled softly, unable to help myself. Her face flushed red at my reaction, and I didn't understand why.

"I'll manage," I said simply, stepping toward the door.

She clutched the knife tightly, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. As I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, her voice stopped me.

"Valeria..."

I turned slightly, glancing over my shoulder. She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing like she didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," she said again, her voice softer this time, filled with something deeper.

I nodded once, turning away quickly before she could see the emotion building in my own chest.

As I walked down the hallway, her words stayed with me, lingering like a ghost. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel so alone.

Emilia's POV

I close the door softly behind her, leaning against it as I let out a shaky breath. My mind replays everything that just happened, and a small, disbelieving smile spreads across my lips.

She had it. She actually carried the pocketknife I gave her.

The same knife she had rejected, scoffing at the idea that it would keep her safe. But now... now I know she's been carrying it, trusting it for her safety. And tonight, she handed it back to me-not as rejection, but as a gesture of something deeper. Trust? Acceptance? I don't know.

But she carried it. She carried my gift.

I let out a soft laugh, walking over to my bed and collapsing onto it, hugging a pillow tightly to my chest. My heart is racing so fast it almost hurts, and I clutch the pillow tighter, trying to calm myself.

Then, I remember.

That sound.

Her laugh.

It wasn't much-just a brief chuckle-but it was real. She laughed with me.

I can't stop the giggle that escapes me, burying my face in the pillow. Valeria laughed. She actually laughed with me.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, the memory of her soft laugh etched into my mind. It was so beautiful, so unexpected. I've spent days wondering if I'll ever see her drop her guard, if I'll ever get past those walls she's built around herself. And tonight... tonight, she let me in, even if just for a moment.

My heart swells as I think of her-her guarded expressions, her fierce determination, and that brief flicker of vulnerability when she laughed. She's so beautiful, even when she's angry, but when she laughed?

I grasp my chest, feeling my racing heart as I try to calm down, but it's no use. My emotions are all over the place.

I close my eyes, picturing her in my mind-her laugh, her soft smile, the way she hesitated but still spoke to me.

Tomorrow... please let her be like that again, I think, clutching the pillow tightly. Please let her keep her walls down, just a little.

As sleep begins to pull me under, the last thing I think about is her.

Her laugh. Her smile. Her beauty.

And how, in that brief moment, she made me feel like maybe I could actually reach her.

Valeria's POV

The sun streams through the curtains when I wake up, but the warmth does little to soothe the cold knot in my stomach. My dreams were restless, filled with shadows of Dominic and his men, their voices a constant hum in the back of my mind.

I sit up slowly, my ribs protesting with a dull ache. I glance at the phone on the nightstand, the one Emilia insisted I keep. My fingers hover over the screen before I finally dial the only number I care about.

"Val?" Cesar's voice comes through the speaker, bright and full of relief. "Val, is that really you?"

A smile tugs at my lips despite myself. "Yeah, it's me, kid. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" he says quickly. "Lucas comes by at night with food and stuff. He says it's safer that way, so no one sees him."

"Good," I reply, though my chest tightens at the thought of him being alone all day. "And the neighborhood? What's going on there?"

Cesar's voice drops, growing more cautious. "It's bad, Val. Dominic killed Ramon."

I freeze, gripping the phone tighter. "What? Why?"

"Because he was drunk and let that girl escape," Cesar whispers, as if saying it too loudly might summon Dominic himself.

My blood runs cold. "Do they know?" I ask, my voice low and trembling. "Do they know it was me who helped her?"

"No," Cesar says firmly. "At least, not yet. I haven't heard anything about you. But Carlos is going to notice you're gone sooner or later."

I close my eyes, exhaling shakily. "Cesar, listen to me. You stay low, okay? Don't go anywhere you don't have to. And if you hear anything-anything at all-you call me."

"I will," he promises, but then his voice falters. "Val... Emilia's father paid the ransom, but they were still planning to kill her.."

"That's what I don't understand," I admit, but the knot in my stomach tightens as dread builds in my chest. "It doesn't make sense."

Cesar hesitates before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I heard something. Some other businessman... he paid Dominic to kill her. It wasn't about the ransom. The kidnapping was just a cover so Dominic could get paid twice."

My heart stops.

I grip the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white, my breath shallow as the truth sinks in. This wasn't just about money. Emilia has a target on her back.

"Cesar, I'll call you back," I manage to say, my voice shaking.

I hang up before he can reply, throwing the phone onto the bed as I rush to pull on my shoes. My hands are trembling as I leave my room, my mind racing.

---

The moment I burst through the doors to the main house, I can hear the faint clicking of a camera. I follow the sound, my breath quick and uneven as I navigate the unfamiliar hallways.

I find her in a large, open room, surrounded by bright lights and sleek equipment. Emilia stands behind the camera, her focus on the model in front of her, but all I see is the danger she's oblivious to.

"Emilia!" I shout, my voice cracking from panic.

Everything stops.

The model freezes, the assistants exchange confused glances, and Emilia's head snaps up in alarm. She drops the camera without a second thought, rushing to me.

"Valeria? What's wrong?" she asks, her hands hovering near me, unsure if she should touch me.

Before I can answer, another voice cuts in.

"What do you think you're doing?" This girl snaps, stepping forward with a scowl. "This isn't the streets where you came from. You can't just barge in here like-"

"Dani!" Emilia's voice is sharp, cutting through the tension. She turns to glare at her assistant. "Talk to her with respect."

Dani looks taken aback, but before she can respond, I place a hand on Emilia's shoulder.

The argument dies instantly. Emilia's eyes soften as she turns back to me, her warm smile disarming me in a way I'm not prepared for.

"Valeria?" she says gently, her voice filled with concern." I am here. Are you okay?"

I quickly pull my hand away, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "We need to talk," I say, my voice steadier now, though my chest still tightens with panic.

Emilia nods without hesitation. "Of course."

She turns back to her assistants, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Everyone, take a break. Now."

I glance around the room, feeling the weight of the stares on me. My instinct is to run, to hide, but I force myself to stay. Emilia's hand hovers near my back, guiding me gently out of the room.

As the door closes behind us, sealing us away from the curious eyes, I turn to her, my heart pounding.

"There's something you need to know," I say, my voice low and urgent.

Her brows furrow, worry etched across her face. "What is it?"

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "You're in danger, Emilia. More than you realize."