Valarie's pov

The gun felt heavy in Val’s grip, but her hands didn’t shake. Not yet. She had trained for this, had seen the worst humanity had to offer in her years on the force—but nothing had prepared her for this. For him.

Damien Volkov stood before her, an immovable wall of control and arrogance, his gloved hand gripping Luca like a possession, his other hand pressing a gun to her brother’s temple. Luca’s breath was ragged, his eyes blown wide with fear, his body locked in place against the mafia king’s chest.

Valarie aimed straight at Damien’s head. “Let him go.”

A smile curled at the corner of his lips, something cold and knowing. “You’re interrupting something, Officer Ivanov.”

Her fingers tightened around the trigger. “You have five seconds.”

Luca whimpered, barely audible, but it shattered something inside her. He was broken—more than she had ever seen him. And Damien knew it.

He leaned down, pressing his lips close to Luca’s ear. “Look at her,” he murmured, loud enough for Val to hear. “Your brave sister, thinking she can take you from me.”

Luca flinched. “Val—”

“Shh, darling.” Damien’s grip didn’t waver, his thumb stroking over Luca’s ribs possessively. “We both know she won’t pull that trigger.”

Val’s heart pounded. She needed to think. Damien wasn’t bluffing. He had Luca in a perfect position—one wrong move, and he would pull that trigger. But there was something else, something more terrifying.

Luca wasn’t struggling.

Her baby brother—who should be fighting, resisting, something—was frozen, his body betraying him. Was it fear? Or something darker?

Valarie forced her mind back into focus. She had to act.

“You have no way out, Volkov,” she said, voice sharp as a blade. “My team is surrounding the building as we speak.”

Damien chuckled, low and taunting. “You think I don’t know that?”

A sinking feeling hit her stomach.

He had planned for this.

As if on cue, her radio crackled. “Valarie, we have a problem—the perimeter’s compromised. They were waiting for us.”

No.

She gritted her teeth. Damn it. Damien’s men were already in position.

The realization must have flashed in her eyes because Damien hummed in satisfaction. “You walked straight into my world, detective. And you thought you had control?”

Luca let out a soft, strangled sound. “Val, please—”

“Shh, sweetheart.” Damien pressed his lips to Luca’s hair, mockingly tender. “Let the adults talk.”

Val’s stomach twisted. The way he touched Luca—possessive, claiming—it made her blood boil.

“You will let him go,” she ground out.

Damien tilted his head. “Or what?”

She didn’t hesitate. She fired.

The shot rang through the room, shattering the tension.

For a heartbeat, everything was still.

Then Luca gasped—his body wrenched from Damien’s grasp as the mafia king stumbled back. Blood bloomed across his shoulder, staining his crisp white shirt.

Val’s hands were steady as she aimed again. “Next one goes between your eyes.”

Damien’s guards moved, guns drawn—but Damien lifted a gloved hand, stopping them. His expression remained unreadable as he pressed his fingers to the wound, glancing at the blood as if it was merely an inconvenience.

Then, he smiled. A real smile.

The kind that made her stomach drop.

Luca whimpered as Damien stepped forward—unbothered, as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“You’ve impressed me, Officer Ivanov.” His voice was low, dangerous. “I don’t take many wounds.”

Val stood her ground. “There’s more where that came from.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I believe you.” His eyes flickered to Luca, filled with something unreadable. “But you made a mistake.”

Val tensed. What—

A sudden noise—a distant explosion. The walls trembled.

Then her radio screamed with voices. “We’re under attack! Multiple casualties—”

No. No, no, no—

Damien’s men had launched a counterstrike.

Valarie ’s grip tightened on her gun, but Damien only smirked. “You should run, officer. Go save what’s left of your team.”

Her pulse roared in her ears. Think, think, think.

Luca was shaking. Terrified. She needed to get him out.

She had one chance.

Val fired again—not at Damien, but at the lights.

The room plunged into darkness.

“Run, Luca!”

Chaos erupted. Gunfire, shouting. A hand grabbed her wrist, but she twisted free, shoving forward, reaching for Luca—

Then arms locked around her throat.

Her air cut off.

A voice, a whisper in the dark—

“You should’ve taken my offer.”

Damien.