The room felt smaller.
Too quiet.
Too controlled.
Valentine shifted slightly, the chain giving a soft clink.
"…take me outside."
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it wasn't weak either.
Artavius didn't look up immediately.
"…why?"
She exhaled.
Trying to stay calm.
"I can't breathe in here."
A pause.
"…at least let me get some air."
Now he looked at her.
Properly.
"There's nothing outside."
Flat.
"Just trees. Forest. Distance."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And a hundred ways for you to try something stupid."
Her jaw tightened.
"I'm not stupid."
"…you're desperate."
That hit.
"And desperate people run."
A pause.
"…you won't get far."
Silence.
Valentine's eyes hardened.
"Who do you think you are?"
No response.
"Kidnapping someone doesn't make you powerful."
Still nothing.
"It makes you a coward."
That made him look at her.
Slowly.
"…are you done?"
Her breath sharpened.
"And a pervert."
Silence.
Sharp.
For a second—
something dangerous flickered in his eyes.
But it disappeared just as fast.
"…careful," he said quietly.
Not loud.
Not angry.
But controlled.
"You're not in a position to throw words like that."
Valentine stepped closer.
As much as the chain allowed.
"Then let me go."
"No."
Immediate.
"I don't want to stay here."
"…you don't have a choice."
Silence.
The same wall again.
She looked away first this time.
Frustration building.
Minutes passed.
Heavy ones.
Then—
unexpectedly—
"…do you play cards?"
Valentine frowned.
"…what?"
"I asked—do you play cards?"
Suspicion immediately.
"…why?"
He leaned back slightly.
Casual.
Too casual.
"If you win—"
A pause.
"I'll take you outside."
Silence.
Her eyes searched his face.
Trying to find the trap.
"…and if I lose?"
"You don't go."
Simple.
Too simple.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
She hesitated.
This could be a trick.
A distraction.
Something worse.
But—
it was still a chance.
"…fine."
A beat.
"I'll play."
Artavius nodded once.
"Good."
And for the first time—
the tension shifted.
Not gone.
Just…
changing shape
The cards lay between them.
Scattered.
Uneven.
Valentine held hers too tightly.
Like pressure alone could change the outcome.
Artavius watched.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
She's bad at this.
It was obvious.
From the way she hesitated.
From how long she took to decide.
From the small mistakes she didn't even notice.
His fingers tapped once against the table.
This isn't even a challenge.
Across from him—
Valentine bit the inside of her cheek.
Eyes fixed on the cards.
I have to win.
Her grip tightened.
I have to.
Another round lost.
Her shoulders stiffened.
"…again," she muttered.
Artavius didn't react.
Just dealt.
Calm.
Precise.
Unbothered.
Minutes passed.
And the result didn't change.
She was losing.
Badly.
Frustration built with every move.
Why is this so hard?!
Her breathing grew uneven.
Across from her—
Artavius leaned back slightly.
Watching.
Analysing.
Not mocking.
Not smiling.
Just… certain.
This will be over soon.
Final round.
Silence settled again.
The air felt tighter now.
Valentine's fingers hovered over her cards.
Shaking slightly.
This is it.
She swallowed.
Artavius reached forward.
Last move.
He had to pick.
Her hand froze.
Then suddenly—
She shut her eyes.
Turned her face slightly away—
and held the cards out.
"…just pick," she said quickly.
Too quickly.
Suspicious.
Artavius paused.
His expression shifted—
What is she doing…?
For a second—
he just looked at her.
Eyes closed.
Tense.
Waiting.
Not strategy.
Not skill.
Just—
hope.
A quiet breath left him.
Idiot.
His gaze dropped to the cards.
He already knew which one to take.
It was obvious.
One move.
And it would end.
Silence.
Then—
he reached forward.
And chose—
The wrong one.
A beat.
Valentine's eyes snapped open.
She looked at the cards.
Then at him.
Confused.
"…I—"
She checked again.
"…I won?"
Artavius leaned back.
Unbothered.
"Yes."
Flat.
No reaction.
No explanation.
Valentine stared at him.
Trying to understand.
Something felt off.
"…you picked wrong."
A pause.
"I know."
That—
didn't help.
Her brows pulled together.
"…why?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"You said to choose fast."
Simple.
Dismissive.
Like it didn't matter.
Silence.
Valentine looked at him.
Still unsure.
But she didn't push further.
"…you said if I win—"
"I remember."
He stood up.
The chair scraped lightly.
"Get ready."
And just like that—
the game ended.
But something about it—
didn't feel like a win.