Trust is a luxury.
One I buried a long time ago.
Because the moment you trust someone in my world…
you give them the perfect angle to destroy you.
And Valentina Moretti?
She was all sharp edges and hidden angles.
Beautiful.
Brilliant.
And dangerous in ways I couldn't afford to ignore.
---
The shot fired.
Pain exploded through my shoulder.
Not a graze this time.
Deep.
Enough to matter.
I staggered back, the impact forcing the air out of my lungs as I hit the ground hard.
"Dante!"
Her voice cut through the haze—sharp, urgent.
I pushed myself up instantly, ignoring the burning sensation spreading through my arm.
"Stay down," I snapped.
"You're hit—"
"I said stay down!"
Another shot cracked through the air.
Closer.
Adjusted.
He was dialing in.
I grabbed her, pulling her down behind the ridge just as the next bullet tore through the space above us.
Too close.
Always too close.
---
"You're bleeding," she said, her voice lower now.
"I've been worse."
"That's not comforting."
"It's not supposed to be."
I pressed a hand against the wound, feeling the warm, slick spread of blood beneath my fingers.
Not good.
But not fatal.
Yet.
"We need to move," I said.
"You can barely stand."
"I can stand enough."
She didn't argue this time.
Didn't push.
Instead, she shifted closer, her hands already moving to assess the wound.
I grabbed her wrist instantly.
"Don't."
Her eyes snapped up to mine.
"Excuse me?"
"I said don't."
"I'm trying to help."
"I don't need help."
"Clearly, you do."
"I said I don't."
Silence.
Tense.
Sharp.
Then she slowly pulled her hand back.
Not offended.
Not hurt.
Just… watching me.
"You don't trust anyone," she said quietly.
I didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
"Even the person you're risking your life for," she added.
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because it's my job."
Her lips curved slightly.
"And nothing else?"
"No."
The lie came too easily.
I didn't like that.
---
Another shot rang out.
We both dropped lower instinctively.
"He's not letting up," she said.
"No," I agreed. "He's patient."
"And you're bleeding."
"Still standing."
"For now."
I glanced at her.
"You planning to let me bleed out?"
She met my gaze.
Steady.
Unshaken.
"No," she said simply.
Before I could react—
She moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Her hand pressed firmly against my wound, applying pressure before I could stop her.
Pain shot through me instantly.
Sharp.
Blinding.
I grabbed her wrist again, harder this time.
"Stop."
"No."
"I said—"
"And I said no," she cut in, her voice just as sharp. "You can't shoot straight if you pass out."
"I won't pass out."
"You don't get to decide that."
We stared at each other, the tension snapping tight between us.
Control.
Defiance.
Fire.
Ice.
Then—
I let go.
Not because I trusted her.
But because she was right.
I hated that.
---
Her hands were steady.
Careful.
Too careful for someone raised in chaos.
"You've done this before," I muttered.
"More times than I'd like," she replied quietly.
That tracked.
In her world, survival wasn't optional.
It was learned.
The hard way.
"You're full of surprises," I said.
"So are you."
A beat.
Then—
"You don't trust me," she added.
Not a question.
A statement.
"No."
She didn't look surprised.
"Why?"
"Because you don't follow orders."
"That doesn't make me untrustworthy."
"It makes you unpredictable."
"And that's a problem?"
"It gets people killed."
Silence.
Then—
"Or it saves them," she said softly.
I didn't respond.
Because part of me knew—
She wasn't wrong.
---
The engine from earlier roared closer.
Different direction this time.
More of them.
Of course.
"They're closing in," she said.
"Yeah."
I shifted slightly, testing my range of motion.
Pain flared.
Manageable.
Barely.
"We don't have time," she added.
"I know."
Another pause.
Then—
"I have an idea," she said.
I frowned immediately.
"No."
"You don't even know what it is."
"I don't need to."
"That's not how this works."
"It is when your ideas involve unnecessary risk."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Everything about this is risk."
"Not if we play it smart."
"Your version of smart is control."
"My version of smart is staying alive."
"And mine is winning."
That made me pause.
Winning.
Not surviving.
Winning.
Dangerous mindset.
Deadly, if unchecked.
---
"What's your plan?" I asked finally.
Her lips curved slightly.
Knew she'd get there.
"Diversion," she said. "I draw their attention. You take them out."
"No."
"Dante—"
"No."
"You don't have another option."
"I always have another option."
"Not with that shoulder."
I clenched my jaw.
She was pushing again.
Testing limits.
Seeing how far she could go before I snapped.
"You're not bait," I said flatly.
"I'm not fragile."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
I stepped closer, lowering my voice.
"The point is you stay where I can see you."
Her breath hitched.
Just slightly.
Then she tilted her head, studying me.
"That sounds less like strategy," she murmured, "and more like control."
"Call it whatever you want."
"I will."
A pause.
Then—
"But we're still doing it my way."
Before I could stop her—
She moved.
Again.
Fast.
Too fast.
She broke from cover, sprinting down the slope into open ground.
"Valentina—!"
Gunfire erupted instantly.
Exactly what she wanted.
A distraction.
Damn it.
I moved.
Ignoring the pain, using the chaos she created to reposition, taking out the first attacker before he even saw me.
Second—down.
Third—struggling to track her movement.
I ended him before he could.
Silence fell again.
But this time—
My pulse was louder.
Faster.
Angrier.
---
She walked back toward me like nothing had happened.
Like she hadn't just risked her life without a second thought.
"You're reckless," I snapped.
"It worked."
"You could've been killed."
"But I wasn't."
"That's not the point."
"It is to me."
We stood there, tension thick between us.
Then—
"You don't trust me," she said again.
"No," I replied.
She nodded slowly.
"Good."
That caught me off guard.
"What?"
"I don't trust you either," she said calmly.
A beat.
Then—
"Then we're even."
Her gaze held mine.
Longer this time.
Deeper.
"Not yet," she said softly.
Something about the way she said it—
Unsettling.
Like she knew something I didn't.
---
The night fell quiet again.
Too quiet.
I didn't like it.
Not after everything.
"Stay close," I said.
"Always so commanding."
"Always so disobedient."
A faint smile.
Then—
A soft click echoed behind us.
We both froze.
Slowly—
I turned.
And saw it.
A man stepping out of the shadows.
Gun raised.
Too close.
Too quiet.
Too late.
Valentina's voice dropped to a whisper beside me.
"…He's one of ours."
My blood ran cold.
Betrayal.
Up close.
Personal.
The man smiled.
And pulled the trigger.