Valentine stood near the stairs, her breathing still uneven, her eyes filled with frustration and fear.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked again.
Artavius looked at her, his expression calm but distant.
"It's not my choice to kidnap you… or free you," he said flatly. "So stop asking me these dumb questions."
Valentine froze for a second, hurt flashing across her face.
"I can't stay here," she said quickly, her voice breaking slightly. "It's so dark here… and it's so dirty too… let me go. I'll give you millions of dollars…"
Artavius let out a small, tired breath.
"Ahh… those idiotic deals…" he muttered, already turning away.
"Please—!" her voice cracked, almost desperate now. "I don't want to be here…"
But he didn't stop.
A few minutes later, Artavius stood in the kitchen, silently boiling some meat. The steam rose slowly, filling the quiet space. He didn't think much while doing it—just something basic. Something necessary.
After a while, he walked back to the basement.
The door opened.
He stepped in and held the plate toward her.
"Here. Eat."
Valentine looked at it and immediately shook her head.
"I don't eat that… fish or whatever it is… it doesn't suit me."
Artavius paused.
Then glanced at her, slightly raising an eyebrow.
"Oh… so you have an allergy too?"
There was something oddly casual in his tone.
Something almost… personal.
Valentine didn't notice it.
But he did.
He turned away again, about to leave.
"Hey—please…" her voice came again, softer this time, weaker. "It's so dark here…"
He didn't look back.
"I can't do anything."
And then he walked out.
The door closed.
Locked.
The silence returned.
And then—
her quiet crying filled the space.
Outside, Artavius stood still for a moment.
He could hear it.
Every sound.
Every broken breath.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"…annoying," he muttered under his breath.
But he didn't move.
Not immediately.
A minute later—
he came back.
The door opened again.
Valentine looked up instantly, her eyes red, confused.
Before she could say anything, he stepped closer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
"Stay quiet."
She froze.
He cuffed one end to his own wrist.
The other—to hers.
The cold metal clicked into place.
Valentine stared at it… then at him, completely shocked.
"I'm accepting your demand," he said, his voice low and serious. "That doesn't mean I'm a good guy."
A pause.
"Don't ask for anything else. Understand?"
She didn't answer.
She was still trying to process what was happening.
"It's cold here," he added shortly. "That's why."
He turned slightly, pulling her along with him.
"Come."
He brought her upstairs.
Through the silent corridors.
Into his room.
The door opened.
"Go," he said, nodding toward the bed. "Sleep there."
Valentine hesitated for a second… then slowly walked toward it.
Still unsure.
Still confused.
Still watching him.
Artavius stepped back.
And locked the door.