Chapter 78

Chapter 78
~Valentina~

Damian stands framed by the doorway, his presence filling the room, making the air feel tight and electric, his dark eyes sweeping over the chaos in front of him, the shattered dishes scattered across the floor, the tea soaking through the front of my white dress, Yolanda clutching her cheek with one manicured hand, and me frozen in place with my fists clenched so tightly my fingers ache. My chest rises and falls too quickly, my breath uneven, fear rushing through me in hot waves, yet tangled within it is something else entirely. A flash of relief I hate myself for feeling passes through me, because despite everything, despite what he represents, seeing him here makes me feel less alone than I have felt since the moment I was dragged into this world.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he demands, his voice filling the room and settling into my bones, and the silence that follows feels thick and tense, like the entire house is terrified of him.

Yolanda reacts instantly, her posture changing, her voice softening into something falsely distressed as she turns toward him, but I barely hear her at first, my focus caught on the way Damian’s gaze shifts briefly to me, the way his eyes linger just long enough to notice the tremble in my hands, the way my dress clings to me, ruined and stained. My chest tightens painfully as my thoughts spin, memories of him walking away during the meeting flashing through my mind, and I wonder if this is the moment he finally chooses his side...

“Damian,” Yolanda begins, her tone sweet and breathless, but the sound fades under the rush of blood in my ears, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs.

“She is absolutely crazy,” Yolanda continues loudly, her words tumbling out as she gestures wildly around the room. “Santoro told me to show her to her breakfast, and she started throwing a fit. She made such a mess and even struck me. Just look at the damage she has caused@”

Her voice rises with every sentence, her performance growing more dramatic, and that is when I notice Isabella stepping into the dining room behind Damian, her expression shifting from confusion to concern as her eyes take in the scene, the broken porcelain, the spilt tea, my trembling form standing near the table like a child caught doing something unforgivable.

“We need to keep her locked up,” Yolanda presses on, stepping closer as if I'm nothing but a criminal. “She is completely dangerous. She is putting everyone at risk the longer she remains here.”

My throat tightens painfully as panic grips me, my mind racing with the terrifying image of locked doors and dark rooms and endless days trapped alone, and I glance helplessly at Damian, my lips parting as if to speak, as if to beg.

Damian says nothing at first. He looks at Yolanda, then slowly turns his attention back to me, and the room feels unbearably quiet as his eyes settle on my face.

“Is that true, Valentina?” he asks.

His tone is calm, almost gentle, and there is something in it that makes my chest ache, something that tells me he does not believe her, not really, and I cling to that feeling like a lifeline.

“N-no,” I manage to say, my voice shaking as I swallow hard. “I was just trying to have my breakfast when she attacked me...”

Yolanda’s reaction is immediate and explosive.

“LIAR!” she screams, her voice piercing as she steps toward me, and I flinch instinctively, my eyes squeezing shut as my jaw clenches, bracing myself for another blow.

“I will have you sleeping with the dogs since you want to behave like an animal!” she continues, her words dripping with hatred, her hand lifting as if she might strike me again.

“Yolanda.”

Damian’s voice cuts through the room, and the moment I open my eyes, I watch as Yolanda freezes mid-movement.

Damien steps forward, his movements slow and unhurried, his attention fixed entirely on her now, and the tension in the room shifts so suddenly it feels dizzying. I open my eyes cautiously, watching as he closes the distance between them, each step making Yolanda visibly uneasy.

“You would not be lying to me, would you?” he asks her, his voice quiet yet terrifying.

“N-no...” she stammers, her confidence crumbling as she backs away slightly.

“Really,” Damian replies, tilting his head as his gaze shifts briefly to my dress. “Because it does not make sense for Valentina to pour a searing cup of tea on herself. Does it...?”

The words hang in the air, and Yolanda’s face pales as she scrambles for an answer.

“W-well, like I said, sh-she is crazy,” Yolanda says hurriedly, her eyes darting toward me and then back to him. “She is probably just doing it for attention...”

Damian stops a few feet in front of her, his presence looming, and for the first time since he entered the room, I see real fear flash across her face.

“Yolanda...” he says again, his voice calm, immediately making my stomach twist. “If I see you go near her again... I will kill you myself. Do you understand?” He says, his tone not once changing.

The room goes completely silent as all our gazes fall on Yolanda, waiting carefully for her reaction. Her body is now physically trembling, her fear now becoming impossible to hide.

“But Santoro appointed me as her handler,” Yolanda protests weakly, her voice just above a whisper now. “He will not be happy if-...”

“I said,” Damian interrupts, taking another step closer, and the threat in his voice is unmistakable. "If I see you near her again..." He warns, and at this point, Yolanda's back has hit the chest, and she has absolutely nowhere to go...

"I will kill you." He says with finality.

There is no doubt in his words, no hint of exaggeration, and Yolanda’s demeanour collapses entirely as tears spill down her cheeks, her body vibrating with sheer terror.

“Am I understood?” Damian asks.

“Y-y-yes,” she sobs, nodding frantically. “I-I understand...”

“Good,” Damian says, turning away from her as if she is no longer worth his attention. “Now have someone clean up this mess before Santoro hears about it.” He lets out, finally making way for her to pass.

Yolanda stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over her heels as she scrambles away from him, her earlier confidence replaced with pure terror, and within seconds, she disappears through the doorway past Isabella, leaving the room eerily quiet in her absence.

Once she is gone, Damian turns back toward me, his expression softening as he takes a few careful steps closer until he is right in front of me, and my breath catches as he says my name...

“Valentina.” He calls out delicately, and the way he says it makes my chest tighten.

"Are you okay?" He then asks, towering over me as he stares down at me with concern, leaving me completely stunned, my mind struggling to reconcile the man standing in front of me with everything I know about him, everything he has done...

“I-I am fine,” I whisper, though my body tells a different story, my hands still shaking, my skin burning where the tea soaked into my dress.

He nods slowly, then turns his attention to Isabella.

“From now on, you are watching over Valentina,” Damian says. “I will relay the message to Santoro.” He explains, and Isabella takes a few steps into the room, crossing her arms with a frown resting on her brows.

Isabella raises an eyebrow slightly. "You think the old man is going to be happy with that...?" She asks as she stands a few feet away from me.

“I will handle him.” Damian replies simply before he looks back at me, his gaze careful and thoughtful.

“Take Valentina to get cleaned up,” he tells Isabella. “We still have to leave in an hour.” He says, and that's when Isabella nods swiftly.

“Come on, Valentina,” Isabella says gently, stepping closer and offering me her arm. I hesitate only briefly before taking it, my legs feeling weak as she begins to guide me toward the door. I glance back over my shoulder, my eyes finding Damian one last time, and my chest tightens painfully as gratitude rises through the fear and confusion. I stand there for a moment, still trying to process everything that just happened, my thoughts tangled and confused. These people brought me here. They destroyed my life. And yet they stand between me and someone who would gladly hurt me, risking Santoro’s wrath without hesitation.

That's when I finally decide to speak up, tears filling my eyes and my expression softening, I stare back at Damian...

“Thank you,” I whisper, the words barely audible.

His own expression softens for a moment, before it returns to the same stern one he had on before. He then gives me a small nod in response, his eyes following me as Isabella leads me out of the room, and as the door closes behind us, I cannot stop the thought that lingers in my mind, unsettling and impossible to ignore...

I do not understand him.

But I am no longer sure he is completely my enemy...