Crimson vows

**Chapter 6: The Edge of the Abyss**

**Valentina's POV**

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I'm dressed in minutes, my hands trembling as I pull on my jacket. Luca's waiting by the door, his body radiating tension like a coiled spring. He hasn't said much since he barged into my room, and the heavy silence between us only amplifies the dread crawling up my spine.

"What's going on?" I ask, as I follow him into the hall. My voice comes out steadier than I feel, but Luca doesn't answer. He just keeps moving, his strides long and determined.

I bite back the urge to press him for answers, knowing it's pointless. Luca doesn't tell me anything unless he has to. And even then, it's always wrapped in cryptic warnings or half-truths. It's like trying to pry open a locked box with my bare hands—futile, frustrating, and exhausting.

We step outside, and the cold night air hits me like a slap. The city is eerily quiet, the streets empty, as if the world is holding its breath. I glance at Luca, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a predator on the hunt. He's always in control, always calculating, but tonight... something's different. There's a tension in him that I haven't seen before, and it makes my stomach churn.

"What are we doing?" I ask again, this time more insistent. "Where are we going?"

Luca finally stops, turning to face me. His eyes are dark, filled with something I can't quite place—fear, anger, maybe both.

"The Russians are making a move," he says, his voice low. "I need to deal with it. And you're not safe here alone. Matvey's people are circling, and I can't take any chances."

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a blanket of dread. Matvey. The name alone sends a chill down my spine. I barely know him, but the memory of his cold eyes and cruel smile is enough to make me feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the abyss.

"So, what? You're just going to drag me along while you... handle things?" My voice wavers, and I hate the vulnerability in it, but I can't help it. This is all too much. The violence, the danger, the constant fear that hangs over me like a dark cloud.

Luca's expression softens, just for a moment. "I'm not dragging you into anything. I'm keeping you alive."

His words hit hard, and I don't know how to respond. He says it like it's a simple fact, like it's the only thing that matters. And maybe, in his world, it is. But I'm not used to this. I'm not used to being someone else's responsibility, someone else's *problem*.

I look away, my chest tight with emotions I don't have the energy to sort through. "I never asked for this."

"I know," he says quietly. "But it doesn't matter. We don't always get a choice."

The way he says it makes me think he's not just talking about me. There's something heavy in his tone, something that makes me wonder if Luca Moretti has been trapped in this life just as much as I have.

Before I can say anything else, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. After a brief, tense conversation, he motions for me to follow him toward the sleek black car parked at the curb.

"Get in," he orders.

I hesitate, staring at the car like it's some kind of cage. But what choice do I have? I slide into the passenger seat, and Luca slams the door behind me. A few moments later, he's in the driver's seat, starting the engine with a low growl.

We pull away from the curb, the city lights blurring outside the window as we speed through the streets. I steal a glance at Luca, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his face set in stone. He's so controlled, so focused, like nothing can shake him.