Mara Chen's POV
The training facility smells like gun oil and sweat.
Lucia puts Mara through six hours of relentless work—how to hold a weapon, how to shoot, how to identify threats, how to kill efficiently. Her hands blister. Her shoulders ache. Lucia is merciless.
"In this world, hesitation equals death," Lucia says, watching Mara's aim improve with each round. "Can you kill someone to protect Valentina?"
Mara thinks of the way Valentina touched her back in the penthouse. The way their hands lingered.
"Yes," she says.
By the hundredth shot, she's hitting center mass. Something dark awakens inside her—she's good at this. She likes it. And the knowledge that she's becoming dangerous for Valentina somehow makes her feel alive.
Hours pass. When Lucia finally calls a break, Mara's shaking with exhaustion.
"Shower," Lucia commands, pointing to a back room. "There's a locker with clothes. When you're done, we'll work on hand-to-hand."
Mara stumbles to the bathroom and strips off her sweaty clothes. The hot water is a small mercy, and she stands under it for longer than necessary, trying to calm her racing heart.
She's trying to kill for a woman she barely knows.
She's trying to die for a woman she can't stop thinking about.
When she emerges, dressed in black tactical gear that Lucia provided, she finds Valentina waiting in the training room.
Mara stops cold.
Valentina is leaning against the wall, watching Lucia pack away weapons. She's still wearing the blood-red suit from earlier, and her dark eyes shift to Mara the moment she enters.
Something flickers across Valentina's face—approval, maybe. Or hunger.
"How's she doing?" Valentina asks Lucia, but her eyes never leave Mara.
"Better than expected," Lucia admits grudgingly. "She's a natural with weapons. No hesitation. No mercy."
"Good," Valentina says softly. She pushes off the wall and walks toward Mara. Each step is deliberate. "That's what I need."
Valentina stops in front of her, close enough that Mara can feel the warmth radiating from her body. She reaches out and adjusts the tactical vest Mara is wearing, her fingers brushing against Mara's collarbone.
"You're sweating," Valentina says quietly.
"Training," Mara replies, but her voice comes out breathless.
"That's not the only reason," Valentina says. It's not a question.
Lucia clears her throat loudly from across the room. "I'll get the hand-to-hand equipment ready," she announces, walking away pointedly.
The moment they're semi-alone, Valentina steps even closer. Her hand moves to Mara's face, and she traces the edge of Mara's jawline with one finger.
"You're stronger than I thought," Valentina whispers. "Already."
"I have good motivation," Mara says.
Valentina's eyes darken. "Which is?"
"Survival," Mara says.
"That's not the only reason either," Valentina says, echoing her own words from moments before. "Look at me and tell me you don't feel this."
Mara looks up. Valentina's dark eyes are intense, vulnerable, dangerous. She's letting her mask slip, and Mara can see the woman beneath the power—scared, lonely, hungry for something.
"I feel it," Mara admits.
Valentina leans in. For a second, Mara thinks she's going to kiss her. Her heart stops. But instead, Valentina just breathes against her ear.
"This is dangerous," Valentina whispers. "What I feel for you. What's happening between us."
"I don't care," Mara says, echoing her own words from the alley.
Valentina pulls back slightly, her hand dropping to Mara's waist, holding her like she might disappear.
"You should," Valentina says. "Everyone close to me becomes a target. Everyone I care about dies."
"Then let me be your exception," Mara says.
Valentina closes her eyes like that sentence physically hurts her.
"Valentina," Lucia calls from across the room. "We have a situation."
The spell breaks.
Valentina releases Mara instantly, stepping back, rebuilding her walls. By the time she turns toward Lucia, her expression is ice-cold.
"What?" she asks.
"Contact from Marco," Lucia says, checking her phone. "Konstantin just hit one of our warehouses. Five soldiers dead."
Valentina's jaw tightens. She pulls out her own phone and makes a call.
"I need to leave," she tells Lucia. "Business."
"I know," Lucia says. She glances at Mara, and something like sympathy crosses her face. "She'll be safe here."
But Valentina doesn't look at Mara as she walks toward the exit. She can't. If she looks at Mara again, she'll stay. And she can't afford to stay.
Mara watches her go, feeling the sudden cold where Valentina's warmth was.
Lucia walks over and hands Mara a bottle of water.
"Drink," she says. "Before you collapse."
"She's going into danger," Mara says. "Shouldn't I—"
"No," Lucia says firmly. "You're not trained yet. You'd be a liability. And Valentina..." Lucia pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Valentina is always more dangerous when she's protecting someone she loves. Don't distract her from that."
Mara's stomach drops.
"Loves? She doesn't—"
"I've known Valentina for fifteen years," Lucia interrupts. "I've never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you. Not once." Lucia's expression is unreadable. "That makes you either the best thing that ever happened to her, or the worst. Time will tell."
Before Mara can respond, alarms blare throughout the facility.
Not gentle. Not practiced. This is real.
"Stay here," Lucia commands. She's already moving toward the weapons, arming herself with lethal efficiency. "Don't move. Don't leave this room. Understand?"
"What's happening?" Mara asks.
"Someone's breaching the facility," Lucia says grimly. "Someone knows Valentina was here."
The doors lock down with a pneumatic hiss.
Mara is sealed inside, safe and helpless, while Valentina is out there fighting for her life.
And all Mara can think about is the way Valentina looked at her. The way she said: Let me be your exception.
The gunfire that erupts outside isn't muffled by the thick walls.
It's loud. It's violent. It's terrifying.
And Valentina is in the middle of it.