Valarie’s POV

The house was too quiet.

Valarie stood by the window, arms crossed, staring at the dark street outside. Damien, Luca, and Ava had left, and the moment the door closed behind them, the silence crept in—heavy, suffocating.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples.

The breakup with Elijah had left a hollow ache in her chest, one she refused to acknowledge. It was better this way. She had made her choice. She had to protect him, no matter how much it hurt.

But damn, did it hurt.

Her gaze drifted to the living room.

The flowers were still there.

Slowly, she stepped forward, fingers brushing over the soft petals of a white lily. The scent was overwhelming, clinging to her skin like an unwanted memory. She traced the edge of a black rose, her expression unreadable.

Who sent these?

Her first thought was Elijah. But no, he wasn’t the type to do something like this, not now, not after everything. If he had something to say, he’d say it, not leave cryptic gifts behind.

Damien, as a prank? She snorted. He was more likely to leave a bullet casing than a bouquet.

Mikhail? The idea made her stomach twist. He was a sadist, a monster, but this didn’t feel like him. He was too direct, too brutal. This was something else—something more personal.

She frowned, running her fingers over the arrangement again. Someone had chosen these flowers carefully. White lilies for purity. Violets for loyalty. Red roses for love.

And then there were the black roses. Dark. Mysterious. A symbol of obsession.

A chill ran down her spine.

Who are you?

She had enemies. She had admirers. But whoever did this had gone to great lengths to make a statement. This wasn’t just a message. It was an introduction.

And she had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to like what came next.

****** Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips as he swirled the glass. The dim glow of his office cast long shadows across the marble floor, but his focus was solely on the large screen in front of him.

The surveillance feed showed Valarie Ivanov standing amidst the extravagant flowers he had sent her.

She was stunning.

Her golden-brown eyes flickered with confusion as she delicately touched the petals, her fingers trailing over the silk-soft texture. Her brows furrowed, lips parting slightly in thought. She was trying to figure it out—trying to figure him out.

Sebastian’s smirk deepened.

Good.

He wanted her to wonder. To be consumed by the thought of him.

He leaned forward, eyes drinking in the sight of her. She was so different from the women who usually threw themselves at him. Fierce. Untamed. A warrior through and through. Sebastian found himself utterly captivated by the fire that was Valarie Ivanov.

The way she carried herself. The sharpness in her eyes. The way she had snapped at Mikhail the ruthless mafia boss earlier, fearless despite the danger surrounding her.

She was magnificent.

And she was going to be his.

His tongue flicked over his lower lip as he watched her touch a black rose, her expression unreadable. He imagined stepping behind her in that moment, pressing his lips against the shell of her ear, whispering his name—watching the way her breath would hitch, the way her body would tense before melting against him.

Would she fight him? Would she push him away?

The thought made his blood hum with excitement.

Sebastian just didn’t want obedience. He realized it now.He wanted her—her fire, her defiance, her fury. He wanted to mold her into something that belonged to him alone.

His gaze flicked to her lips.

Soft. Plush. Slightly parted as she exhaled, deep in thought.

I wonder how you’d taste, Officer Valarie.

The idea of kissing her was almost too enticing. He imagined pinning her against the wall, one hand around her throat, the other tangled in her hair as he devoured that perfect mouth.

Would she whimper? Would she curse him?

Or would she gasp in reluctant pleasure?

Sebastian exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

Obsession was an unfamiliar feeling. He had played with women before—used them, discarded them. But this? This was different.

Valarie was different.

She wasn’t meant to be admired from afar. She was meant to be claimed.

And soon… she would realize that herself.

******* Elijah Carter’s POV

The glass trembled in his grip, the dim lighting of his apartment casting long shadows over the mess he’d created. Papers were scattered across the table—Mikhail’s movements, notes from old cases, surveillance photos that should’ve been turned in.

None of it mattered anymore.

His job? Gone. His badge? Will be Stripped from him. If he makes a move on Mikhail , But he didn't care.

None of it meant a damn thing.

Because he had lost Valarie.

Elijah exhaled sharply, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. His head throbbed from the alcohol, from the exhaustion, from the relentless ache in his chest. Eight years. Eight damn years with her, and now… she was slipping away.

He couldn’t live without her.

The very thought sent a sharp, unbearable pain through his ribs. Valarie was his. His stubborn, fiery, maddeningly reckless Valarie. The girl who once threw a punch at him when they first met, who rolled her eyes every time he teased her, but always, always looked at him like he was the only man in the world.

And now?

Now she was tangled up in a war that had nothing to do with her.

All because of Mikhail.

Elijah’s jaw clenched as he glared at the photos in front of him. Mikhail’s smirking face stared back, taunting him. That bastard had dragged Valarie into this mess, had put a target on her back, had forced him to let her go.

No. No more.

His hands curled into fists.

Damien and the others were playing their little chess game, planning and plotting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

But Elijah?

He wasn’t waiting. He wasn’t strategizing. He wasn’t going to sit back and hope they got it right.

He was going to kill Mikhail himself.

Alone.

Without Valarie knowing. Without Damien’s interference. Without anyone stopping him.

Elijah leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a grim smile.

He didn’t have his force with him anymore, but he still had his training. He still knew how to track, how to infiltrate, how to kill. Mikhail was powerful, but he wasn’t invincible.

And Elijah had nothing left to lose.

His gaze flickered to the engagement ring still sitting in its box on the table. The ring he never got to give her. The promise he never got to make.

But after this?

After he put Mikhail in the ground?

Valarie would be safe.

And she would be his again.

******

Love triangle?! I'm still confused who should i end Valarie with...tell in the comments