Valeria's POV

My breath was still uneven as I left Emilia's house, the ghost of her touch lingering on my skin, her taste etched into my memory like an uninvited brand. The document she'd handed me felt heavier than it should, tucked securely inside my jacket pocket. It was more than just paper; it was a key to something dangerous—something I wasn't sure I fully understood.

The streets were empty, shadows stretching long under the dim glow of flickering streetlights. My mind raced, tangled in thoughts I didn't want to have. Emilia's boldness, the way she'd looked at me like she could see straight through my defenses... it unsettled me. I hated that it did. But there was no time to dissect my feelings. I had a job to do.

When I reached the meeting spot, Leo was already there, leaning against a battered car like he had all the time in the world. His sharp gaze snapped to me as I approached, cool and calculating.

"Valeria," he said, straightening up. "Didn't expect you so soon. Got the documents?"

I pulled the folder from my jacket, handing it over without a word. My fingers brushed against his for a second, cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth I'd just left behind.

Leo unfolded the papers, his eyes scanning the contents with practiced efficiency. Then his gaze flicked back to me, sharp as a blade.

"Is this everything?" he asked, suspicion curling around his words like smoke.

"It's what you asked for," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "No more, no less."

His brow furrowed slightly. "Did anyone stand in your way?"

I met his eyes, forcing my expression into one of indifference. "No. It was an easy job. In and out."

Leo didn't look convinced. He studied me, his gaze lingering just a second too long, like he was trying to peel back layers I couldn't afford to expose.

"Did you check the documents?" he asked finally, his tone casual but his eyes anything but.

I felt a flicker of tension in my chest, but I didn't let it show. "Checking the documents wasn't part of the order. My job was to retrieve them. I did."

Leo nodded slowly, folding the papers back up and tucking them into his coat. "Good. Leave now. I'll contact you with further orders."

I gave a small nod, turning to walk away, my footsteps echoing against the empty street. Despite the distance I was putting between us, I couldn't shake the feeling that Emilia Hayes had become more than just a complication. She was a risk—one I wasn't sure I could afford to take.

The tension didn't ease as I made my way back to Claudia's place. The familiar streets felt foreign, my thoughts too tangled to notice the usual markers along the way. When I finally arrived, I knocked once before letting myself in.

Claudia was at the small kitchen table, flipping through some papers, her sharp eyes lifting to meet mine. "You're back," she said simply, her voice a mixture of relief and curiosity.

I nodded, shrugging off my jacket and sinking into the chair across from her. "It's done. Leo has the documents."

She studied me for a beat, then set her papers aside. "And how did it go?"

"Easy job. In and out," I lied smoothly, though my heart hadn't stopped racing since I left Emilia's door.

Claudia didn't look convinced. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when she was reading between the lines. "Valeria, you don't have to pretend with me. I know you better than that. What happened?"

I exhaled sharply, my facade cracking just a little. "It was nothing. Just... complicated."

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, giving me that look—the one that said she wasn't buying it but wouldn't push. "Complicated usually has a name."

I didn't respond, but my silence was enough. Claudia's expression softened slightly. "Did you know about the plan?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

Claudia sighed, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. "Salvador told me."

I frowned, a flicker of frustration rising in my chest. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

Claudia's gaze held steady. "If I had, you wouldn't have gone. You had to see Emilia. You had to hear the plan from her."

I shook my head, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "It's a risky plan, Claudia."

She nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Risky, yes. But if it works... you'll be free."

The words settled between us, heavy and full of possibility. I wanted to believe her. I really did.

I sat there, Claudia's words pressing into me like a weight I couldn't shake. If it works... you'll be free.

Freedom.

It should have been a comforting thought, but all it did was stir the unease already curling in my chest. I ran a hand over my face, exhaling slowly.

"You still don't get it, do you?" I muttered, shaking my head.

Claudia frowned. "What don't I get?"

"It's not just about whether the plan works." I met her gaze, my voice quieter now. "It's about what it'll cost."

Her expression softened, but she didn't look away. "You trust her, don't you?"

I didn't answer right away. Not because I doubted it, but because admitting it out loud felt too raw. Too final.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a second before I spoke. "I do."

Claudia tilted her head. "Then why do you sound like that's a problem?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Because it is."

Because trust was dangerous. Because I had spent my whole life being careful, making sure I never let anyone in far enough to hurt me. And yet, Emilia had slipped past my walls so easily, so effortlessly, it terrified me.

Claudia watched me for a long moment, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "You care about her."

I clenched my jaw. "I care about all of us making it out of this alive."

Claudia gave me a look—one that told me she wasn't buying it for a damn second.

"You're scared," she said simply. "Not of the plan. Not of the risk. Of what happens after."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "There is no 'after' if we don't survive this."

"But if you do?" She raised an eyebrow. "Then what?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I didn't have an answer for that.

Because the truth was, I had no idea what 'after' looked like. I had spent years running, fighting, surviving. I didn't know how to be anything else.

And Emilia—Emilia made me want more.

That was the problem. That was the risk I hadn't accounted for.

Claudia sighed, sitting back. "You trust her. You want her to make it out of this. And that scares you more than anything."

I exhaled sharply. "I can't afford to be scared."

"Then don't be," she said simply. "But don't pretend it doesn't matter."

I looked away, my hands tightening into fists in my lap.

Claudia's eyes stayed on me, unreadable. "So, what are you going to do now?"

I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension creeping up my spine. "I'm going to Emilia. I need to understand the full plan."

Claudia frowned, leaning back against the table. "You don't think this is dangerous?"

I met her gaze without hesitation. "Of course it's dangerous. But Leo is on his way to Dominic right now. That means, for a little while at least, they'll be too focused on whatever he's telling them to be watching me."

She didn't look convinced. "And if you're wrong?"

"Then we're not taking any chances," I said, grabbing my jacket. "We take one car, drive around, make sure we're not being followed. If it looks clean, I go to Emilia."

Claudia studied me for a moment longer, then nodded. "Fine. But we stay sharp."

We moved quickly. Outside, the air was thick with that kind of tension that made every small sound feel amplified. Claudia slid into the driver's seat while I took the passenger side. Neither of us spoke as she pulled out onto the main road, the hum of the engine the only sound between us.

I kept my eyes on the side mirrors, scanning the street behind us. Every turn, every passing car, every shadow—we tracked them all, waiting for the feeling of being watched.

Claudia's grip on the steering wheel was firm. "Anything?"

I took another glance at the mirror before shaking my head. "Not yet. But let's do another round to be sure."

She made a sharp left, bringing us down another stretch of road, this one quieter. My fingers tapped lightly against my knee, not out of impatience, but out of instinct. It was the kind of restlessness that came with knowing one wrong move could cost us everything.

After another ten minutes, Claudia exhaled. "Looks clear."

"Yeah," I agreed, though my body was still coiled tight. "Pull over near the alley."

She did as I asked, slowing the car to a stop. The street was dimly lit, but empty. No lingering eyes. No suspicious cars.

"Go," Claudia said, her voice low but firm. "I'll wait a bit before circling back."

I nodded once, then slipped out of the car, keeping my steps even, unhurried. Just another person walking through the city at night.

But my destination wasn't random.

It was Emilia.

And whether I liked it or not, seeing her again felt like stepping into something even more dangerous than the plan itself.

Slipping into Emilia's house unseen should have been impossible in broad daylight. But I wasn't just anyone. Years of survival had taught me how to move through places like a ghost, unseen and unnoticed.

The servants' wing was the easiest way in. I crouched by the window, pried it open just enough to slip inside, and landed softly on my feet. The air smelled like coffee, faintly sweet with something indulgent, like vanilla and cinnamon. Emilia always smelled like that.

I shook off the thought and moved toward the kitchen.

Inside, Claire sat at the counter, slouched over a steaming mug, staring at it like it personally owed her money.

I smirked, stepping up silently behind her before leaning in close.

"Look who's brooding now."

Claire let out an actual yelp, almost launching her coffee across the counter as she whirled around. "Jesus, Valeria, what the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

I grinned, slipping into the seat across from her. "Didn't know it was that easy to take you out. That's disappointing."

She scowled, hand over her chest. "I need two things before dealing with criminals—coffee and a warning."

"Where's the fun in that?" I smirked, propping my feet on the chair next to me. "I think you should just be more alert."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting the undead assassin to show up in my kitchen at noon."

"You work for Emilia," I pointed out. "You should always expect criminals. Or worse, Dani"

"Yeah, well," she said, taking a sip of coffee, "some of us don't thrive in constant paranoia, Valeria."

"Maybe that's why you haven't been fired yet."

Claire hummed, setting her mug down dramatically. "That and my immense charm."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

She huffed, crossing her arms. "You have one near-death experience and suddenly you're a comedian. So, what are you actually doing here? Realized life is unbearable without me?"

I placed a hand over my heart. "You caught me. The cold, cruel world was too much. I needed the warmth of your endless sarcasm."

She grinned. "Admitting it is the first step. Next, we work on your emotional range beyond brooding and threatening murder."

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Look at you. Drinking coffee, dishing out therapy advice. Who are you, and what have you done with Claire?"

She took another long sip. "Character development, Valeria. You should try it sometime."

I leaned in slightly. "Alright, fine. I'll bite. What's got you sitting here looking like you just discovered the meaning of life?"

Claire narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you're here for something bigger than just my company?"

I tilted my head. "Because you're not wrong. I need to see Emilia."

Her teasing smirk faded slightly. "Oh, now it makes sense. And here I was thinking you missed me."

I grinned. "What can I say? Emilia's hard to ignore."

Claire rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, tell me about it."

Then, before I could react, she pulled me into a hug.

I stiffened, caught completely off guard.

Claire? Hugging me?

For a second, my body tensed, instincts screaming to pull away, but she didn't let go. And after a moment, I let myself sink into it—just a little.

"You're safe," she murmured. "I'm glad."

I didn't know what to say to that. It felt... unfamiliar. Warm. Weird.

I swallowed, my voice rougher than I intended. "Didn't know you were the sentimental type."

Claire scoffed but didn't let go. "I'm not. You just looked like you could use it."

Before I could even process that, a voice cut through the air.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Claire and I pulled apart just as Emilia stepped into the kitchen.

She froze.

First, her gaze flicked to me—surprise in her expression because she hadn't been expecting me.

Then... her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw Claire standing close. Jealousy.

She masked it almost instantly, her posture relaxing, but I caught it. The slight clench of her jaw. The way she took one breath too deep, like she was making herself stay calm.

Claire, ever oblivious, smirked. "Look who finally decided to wake up."

Emilia's gaze didn't leave me. "And look who decided to drop by unannounced."

I tilted my head slightly. "You sound surprised."

Her lips pressed together briefly. "Should I not be?"

Claire, sensing the shift in tension, grinned knowingly. "Ooooh, this is interesting. Should I leave, or should I grab popcorn?"

"Get out, Claire," Emilia said, not even looking at her.

Claire held up her hands, flashing me a smirk. "Try not to die."

Then she grabbed her coffee and sauntered out, way too amused.

As soon as the door shut, Emilia turned fully toward me.

Then, to my surprise, her face softened.

"You came back," she murmured.

It wasn't a question.

For a moment, I saw it—the relief. The quiet, undeniable happiness that I was here.

Despite the jealousy, despite the situation, she was glad I was standing in front of her.

I took a step closer, voice lower. "Of course I did."

Something flickered in her gaze—something hesitant, something warm.

Then, before I could overthink it, Emilia reached forward and gently took my hand.

"Come with me," she said. "We have a lot to talk about."

And just like that, I let her lead me away.

She grabbed my shoulders and, with effortless grace, wrapped her legs around my waist. Instinct took over as I caught her, my hands gripping her thighs, holding her up with ease.

Her breath was warm against my lips, her fingers threading into my hair as she whispered, "I know actions speak louder than words, but I need to hear you say it. Say you missed me."

Her voice was raw, filled with something almost desperate, something that made my chest tighten.

I swallowed hard, my hands pressing against her hips. I missed her. More than I wanted to admit. More than I was ready to say.

But I did.

"I missed you," I murmured, and before the words had even fully left my lips, she crushed her mouth against mine.

The kiss was urgent, filled with something deeper than just passion. She was clinging to me like she had been holding onto the fear that I wouldn't come back, like she needed this to believe that I was really here.

I could feel her shaking slightly, and that realization sent a sharp ache through me.

She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, resting her forehead against mine. "How are you here?" she whispered.

I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself. "We need to talk."

She exhaled, and I felt her pout against my lips before she kissed me again, slower this time. More deliberate. "We will talk," she murmured, voice softer now, "but I miss you."

Her hands roamed my shoulders, fingers brushing over my pulse, and I let out a low sigh before kissing her back.

"Princess," I whispered against her lips, forcing myself to pull away even though every part of me wanted to keep going.

"What?" she whined, her breath warm against my skin.

I chuckled, pressing another kiss to her jaw. "I want to do this all day," I admitted, "but I don't have much time."

She let out a dramatic sigh, resting her head against my chest. Her fingers curled into my shirt, like she wasn't ready to let go just yet.

"Tell me about your plan," I said, my voice quiet but firm.

She hesitated for just a moment before pulling back, looking me in the eye. There was something in her expression—something guarded, but also certain.

Wordlessly, she took my hand and led me to the edge of the bed, sitting down beside me. I stayed standing for a second before exhaling and settling next to her, watching her closely.

"The documents I gave you," she began, voice measured, "the ones Leo took back to Dominic... they weren't just financial reports. They were planted transactions."

I nodded slowly. "To make it look like Ignacio has been hoarding money."

She met my gaze. "Exactly. Offshore accounts. Fake wire transfers. Deals that seem like he's pocketing millions while throwing Dominic scraps."

I exhaled sharply. "He's going to lose it."

Emilia tilted her head slightly. "You know Dominic better than I do. Is this enough to make him believe it?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Dominic already operates on paranoia. It's how he stays alive. He doesn't trust anyone—not fully. And if there's even a sliver of doubt in his mind about Ignacio, he won't ignore it. He can't afford to."

Emilia's lips curled slightly, like she had expected that answer. "Then it's only a matter of time before he starts questioning everything."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "If he thinks Ignacio is keeping money from him, his first instinct won't be to lash out—he's smarter than that. He'll dig. Try to get proof. But the second Ignacio brushes him off, that's when the cracks start forming."

She nodded. "And if Ignacio underestimates him?"

"Then he's as good as dead," I said without hesitation. "Dominic doesn't do second chances. If he truly believes Ignacio has been playing him, he won't stop until he's wiped him out."

There was a pause, thick with understanding.

I rubbed my hands together, thinking through the possibilities. "But here's the thing—Ignacio isn't stupid, either. He's too careful, too calculated. He won't let himself go down that easily. If he gets wind that Dominic is turning on him, he'll strike first."

"And if that happens?" Emilia asked, tilting her head.

"Then we get exactly what we want," I said simply. "A war between them."

She studied me, her gaze sharp, assessing. "You sound confident."

I let out a small smirk. "That's because I know Dominic. And if we push the right buttons, we won't even have to do the dirty work. They'll destroy each other."

She leaned back slightly, a flicker of admiration in her eyes. "You make it sound easy."

I scoffed. "It's not. If we miscalculate, we'll be caught in the crossfire."

Emilia exhaled, nodding slowly. "Which means we need to be smart about the next steps."

I glanced at her. "And what exactly are those next steps?"

She let the silence stretch for a moment before responding. "We wait. We let Dominic get the documents, let him stew in it. Then, when the paranoia starts setting in, we give him a little push."

I arched a brow. "A push how?"

She smirked, but there was something dangerous behind it. "That's where you come in."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Of course it is."

She reached out, fingers brushing over mine, grounding me. "You're the only one who can get close enough to feed him the final piece of doubt. To make him certain Ignacio is betraying him."

I didn't respond right away. I already knew she was right. But that didn't mean I liked it.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, exhaling. "If I do this, if I go near him again, I need to be careful. If Dominic gets even the smallest sense that I'm lying to him, he won't hesitate to kill me."

Emilia's fingers curled around mine. "That's why we make sure he doesn't."

I met her gaze, something unspoken passing between us.

A mutual understanding.

A promise.

If we did this right, Dominic and Ignacio would destroy each other.

And Emilia and I?

We'd be free.

For the first time in a long time, the possibility felt real.