Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Chapter 9

The thing about Victor Santoro is, he doesn’t have to raise his voice to make you feel like you’ve already lost. He doesn’t have to yell, doesn't have to slam his fists on the table. He just looks at you... that quiet, cold gaze that tells you he’s already five steps ahead, already decided if you walk outta this room breathing. And right now, that gaze is locked on Vanessa...

Victor leans back in his chair, fingers drumming against the armrest, watching her like a cat watches a bird that flew a little too close to the ground.

The office is quiet. Too quiet. Dario’s standing behind her, solid as a damn wall, but he ain't saying a word. Nobody is.

Vanessa forces herself to step forward, into the glow of the chandelier. The heaviness pressing on her chest is damn near suffocating, but she doesn’t let it show.

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, boss…” she says, her voice even, controlled.

Victor raises a brow like he’s humouring her, but still, she continues.

“I wasn’t successful…” she continues. “I thought you’d want a full report immediately.”

Victor’s lips curve slightly, but it ain't a smile. It's something sharper, something that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Is that so…?” he murmurs.

Then, slow as anything, he rises from his chair, moving like he’s got all the time in the world. The floor creaks under his weight as he circles the desk, his hands clasped behind his back, the picture of patience. But Vanessa knows better.

She follows him with her eyes, every muscle in her body coiled tight.

“So tell me, Vanessa,” he says, voice like silk wrapped around a blade. “How does my best hitwoman leave a target alive?”

Her stomach knots, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t drop her gaze. She won’t.

“I underestimated him,” she says flatly. “It won’t happen again.”

Victor stops just short of her, tilting his head slightly, like he’s studying a piece of art he ain't quite sure he likes.

“Underestimated him?” he echoes, mocking. “That’s not like you. You’re always so… precise.”

Dario shifts behind her, barely noticeable, but she knows he’s just as tense as she is. He might have her back, but even he ain’t stupid enough to get between her and Victor.

Vanessa’s jaw tightens. “He was expecting me,” she says, her voice firm. “His guards were already in place. He fought back...”

"Seems like you got real close to him, huh?" Victor’s brow raises slightly, but there’s no real surprise there. Just mild amusement.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Rosa?” he asks, his tone so casual it makes her skin crawl. 

She hates when he calls her that. Rosa. Her real name. The name that makes her feel like the scared little girl he pulled out of the gutter all those years ago... She was Rosa Nivelio... And now, she goes by Vanessa Santoro... An alias that Victor permitted, just to help her get away from her past... 

And that’s when it slips... before she can stop herself. 

“Why didn’t you give me his name?”

The air in the room changes.

The question hangs between them, heavy as lead.

Victor stills, his expression colder than before. Then, slowly, like he’s savouring the moment, he exhales. “So you’ve started questioning your orders now, hm, Vanessa?”

Vanessa clenches her fists, ignoring his question and going back to her own. “Was it because it was Arturo Castellano…?”

For the first time, Victor hesitates. It’s slight... a flicker in his eyes, the briefest pause, but she sees it.

She hit a nerve.

Victor steps closer, his voice dropping lower. “So you figured it out?”  

“He told me himself,” Vanessa says, her voice sharper now. “Right before he got the better of me...”  

Victor’s jaw tightens, his fingers flexing at his sides before he turns away from her. He moves to the window, staring out into the night, the dim light casting his shadow long and twisted across the floor.  

“I didn’t tell you for a good reason, Isabella,” he murmurs. “I knew you would get distracted. And it’s clear, that’s what happened.”  

Vanessa’s breath catches in her throat. “He is a Castellano. He’s part of the family that murdered mine. And you were just going to send me in blind? How could you do that to me?”  

Victor doesn’t turn around. His hands clasp behind his back, his shoulders broad, unmoving.  

“You promised me,” Vanessa says, her voice cracking slightly. “You promised me one day I’d get my revenge. And when the opportunity finally came, you made it seem like just another job.”  

Victor turns back to her, his gaze sharp, unreadable.  

“Dario,” he says, his voice smooth as silk, “leave us.”  

Dario tenses beside her. She doesn’t look at him, but she can feel his hesitation.  

“Boss,” Dario starts, his voice tight.  

Victor doesn’t take his eyes off Vanessa. “That wasn’t a request.”  

A tense moment passes. Then Dario exhales sharply, stepping back. His hand brushes her arm as he walks past, a silent warning, a reminder to be careful.  

The doors close behind him with a heavy thud.  

And just like that, she’s alone with Victor.  

He moves slowly, stepping toward her, the silence stretching longer and longer.  

“Not only did you fail your mission,” he says finally, his voice deceptively calm, “but now you think you can question me?”  

Vanessa forces herself to hold his gaze, even as her heart hammers against her ribs.  

Victor takes another step forward, his voice dropping to something almost gentle. “Tell me, did you let him live on purpose?”  

“No.” The word leaves her lips instantly, but then—she hesitates.  

Just for a second.  

Victor catches it.  

His expression doesn’t change, but she feels the shift in the air, the way the tension coils like a snake preparing to strike.  

Vanessa’s voice is steadier when she speaks again. “No, boss. I didn’t.”  

Victor exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Vanessa… believe it or not, I was only trying to protect you.”  

Her breath catches. “By keeping the truth from me?”  

Victor meets her gaze, his expression softer now, almost paternal. “I thought it would be best that way.”  

Vanessa swallows hard. “Why?”  

“The Castellanos are too powerful for you to take on alone,” Victor says, stepping closer. “So I figured, we’d start with the son. Arturo. Get his father’s attention and bring him out in the open.”  

Vanessa’s chest tightens. “You were using me.”  

Victor doesn’t deny it. Instead, he places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I raised you. I gave you a home. And I promised you revenge—but you have to be smart about it. Do you think I’d just send you in without a plan?”  

Vanessa doesn’t answer.  

Victor leans in slightly, his grip tightening. “I’ll give you another opportunity to make things right,” he murmurs. “But it’ll be much harder now. Arturo knows who you are. He’ll be expecting you.”  

Vanessa’s stomach twists, but she nods. What else can she do?  

Victor watches her for a moment longer before finally releasing her. He walks back toward his desk, picking up his whiskey and taking a slow sip.  

“You can go now,” he says. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”  

Vanessa turns to leave, her steps steady, controlled. But as she reaches the door, Victor’s voice stops her cold.  

“Oh, and Vanessa?”  

She freezes, her hand hovering over the doorknob.  

“If you fail me again,” Victor says, his voice soft, almost affectionate, “I won’t be so forgiving.”  

A chill runs down her spine.  

She doesn’t look back. She just walks out the door, her pulse pounding in her ears, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her like an iron fist...

She leans down, pressing her lips to his throat, nipping at the skin just enough to make him groan. His hands slide up her back, his warmth sinking into her like he wants to brand himself into her bones.

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