I scan every rooftop, every window, every face I pass as I make my way back to the hotel.
This isn't paranoia.
It's the reality of our world.
One mistake, and everything falls apart.
Valentina is waiting when I return, drinking the now tepid coffee I’d picked up for her this morning.
There’s so much I want to tell her, I want to ask her.
But as she looks up at me with resolve in her eyes, I know to keep my mouth shut.
I spot Adriano's sleek black Audi before he sees us, his tense profile visible through the windshield as he scans the area.
Relief floods my system.
We’re almost safe.
But that’s immediately followed by dread. Returning her to her family means handing her back to the men who sold her to Maksim.
"That's our ride," I murmur, guiding her quickly out the door toward the car with a light touch to her lower back that I instantly regret.
Even that small contact feels too intimate now.
Adriano steps out, his eyes hard and unreadable as they sweep over us.
I tell myself he’s looking for injuries, not signs that Valentina is no longer a virgin.
"Get in," he orders, not bothering with greetings.
Valentina slides into the back seat, and I want to follow, but I know Adriano wants me up front. He’s not a chauffeur.
He slams Valentina’s door shut and hurries to get into the driver’s seat. He pulls away in a hurry, making the tires squeal.
"Are you both okay?" he asks, eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror.
“Fine,” she answers with a calm that belies the danger we faced yesterday.
“I was able to take out a few of Maksim’s men, but at least two, maybe three, hunted us through the woods.”
Adriano nods, then returns his gaze to his sister. "What the fuck were you thinking writing a letter to Maksim?"
Valentina straightens, chin lifting in that defiant way that I admire and dread.
"You shouldn't have agreed to this arrangement if you weren't going to follow through," Adriano snaps. "Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm you've created?"
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to defend her. It's not my place. It would only raise suspicions.
"I'll follow through," Valentina says, her voice distant. All the fire seems to be drained from her. "The wedding will happen."
Adriano's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "Why did you write that fucking letter? We know it was you. You've made everything worse."
I risk a glance at Valentina. Her shoulders slump almost imperceptibly, but she doesn’t answer.
"Alessandro is meeting with Maksim as we speak," Adriano continues. "Trying to convince him he didn’t send the letter.”
I want to tell him to shut his mouth, that she's been through enough.