Adrian grabbed her arm hard enough to pull her backward into the shadows beside the stairwell.

“What the hell are you doing down here?” he hissed under his breath.

Valentina barely heard him.

Because she couldn’t stop staring at the cells.

At Eva curled against the mattress.

At the bloodstains darkening concrete floors beneath fluorescent lights.

The underground corridor suddenly felt less like part of Luca’s estate and more like something buried beneath a war zone.

Adrian stepped directly in front of her, forcing her attention upward. “Listen to me carefully. You need to leave right now.”

“You knew about this.”

The accusation came quieter than she intended.

Adrian’s jaw tightened instantly.

“I knew there were holding rooms.”

“Holding rooms?” Her voice sharpened. “There are prisoners chained underground beneath my home.”

“Lower your voice.”

“Don’t tell me to lower my voice.”

The rage inside her chest finally broke through shock hard enough to burn.

Luca was trafficking people.

Torturing them.

Keeping women imprisoned beneath the estate while politicians drank whiskey upstairs pretending civilization still existed.

And Adrian—

Adrian knew enough not to look surprised.

Before either of them could speak again, footsteps echoed from above.

Several people this time.

Male voices.

Closer.

Adrian’s expression changed immediately.

Dangerous again.

Focused.

“We’re out of time,” he said quietly.

Valentina’s pulse spiked. “Who’s coming?”

He already knew.

So did she.

Luca.

The voices descended rapidly toward the basement corridor while security radios crackled overhead.

Then Luca appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

And smiling behind him walked two armed guards dragging a bloodied man between them.

Valentina recognized him vaguely from previous dinners.

Marco Ricci.

One of the dock supervisors.

Or at least he had been.

Marco’s face looked almost unrecognizable now. One eye swollen shut. Blood running from his mouth onto his torn dress shirt while the guards shoved him forward violently through the corridor.

Luca stopped cold the second he saw Valentina standing there.

For one dangerous moment, absolute silence filled the underground hallway.

Then Luca laughed softly.

Not warmly.

Never warmly.

“Well,” he murmured, loosening his gloves slowly. “This is becoming an interesting night.”

Valentina forced herself not to step backward.

Fear fed men like Luca.

Always.

“You keep prisoners beneath the estate,” she said coldly.

Luca glanced casually toward the cells around them. “Temporary guests.”

“Is that what you call torture now?”

“No.” His smile widened slightly. “That’s what lawyers call it.”

The guards laughed nervously.

Adrian didn’t move.

Valentina noticed that immediately.

Too still.

Like a man calculating twelve different disasters simultaneously.

Luca’s attention shifted toward him next. “And somehow my bodyguard also happens to be here.” His eyes narrowed faintly. “You’re becoming very attached to each other lately.”

Nobody answered.

Wrong move.

Luca always distrusted silence more than excuses.

Marco suddenly tried speaking through blood. “Please—please, Luca, I swear I didn’t steal anything—”

One of the guards slammed him hard against the concrete wall.

Luca didn’t even look at him.

His eyes remained fixed on Valentina instead.

“You shouldn’t come down here,” he said softly. “Places like this ruin people.”

Valentina stared at him in disbelief. “You think this place ruins people? Not the things happening inside it?”

For the first time all night, Luca’s smile faded completely.

There he was.

The real version.

Cold.

Empty.

Violence wearing an expensive suit.

“You still misunderstand something important,” Luca said quietly. “Men like me don’t create monsters. We survive them.”

He nodded once toward the guards.

They forced Marco into one of the interrogation rooms near the end of the corridor.

The man started begging immediately.

Real begging.

Panicked.

Animal terror.

Valentina felt nausea rise sharply into her throat.

Luca noticed.

“Good,” he murmured. “At least one of us still has a conscience.”

Then he started walking toward the interrogation room.

Valentina moved instinctively. “Luca—”

Adrian caught her wrist before she reached him.

Hard.

Not painful.

Desperate.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

The single word stopped her cold.

Because Adrian sounded afraid.

Not for himself.

For her.

The interrogation room door slammed shut moments later.

Then the screaming started.

Valentina froze.

The sound tore through the underground corridor sharp enough to cut skin.

Not movie screaming.

Real screaming.

Human screaming.

The kind people made when pain became bigger than dignity.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Inside the room, something heavy crashed against metal.

Marco screamed again.

Adrian’s grip tightened around her wrist automatically.

Not controlling.

Steadying.

Valentina looked up at him slowly. “How long has this been happening?”

Too long.

She saw the answer immediately before he spoke.

“Years.”

The word hollowed something inside her chest.

Another scream echoed through the basement.

Then another.

The guards outside the interrogation room barely reacted anymore.

Routine.

Jesus Christ.

This was routine.

Valentina pulled sharply against Adrian’s grip. “Make him stop.”

Adrian’s expression darkened instantly. “I can’t.”

“You stopped him from hurting me.”

“That’s different.”

“No,” she whispered. “It isn’t.”

But they both knew it was.

Because Luca viewed Marco as disposable.

Luca viewed Valentina as his.

Ownership changed the rules.

A crash exploded inside the interrogation room followed by wet choking sounds.

Then silence.

Terrible silence.

The door opened moments later.

Luca stepped back into the corridor removing bloodstained gloves slowly while one of the guards dragged Marco’s barely conscious body behind him.

Valentina felt ice spread through her veins.

Luca’s white dress shirt carried blood across one cuff.

Not accidental blood.

Fresh.

Close-range blood.

He looked almost calm again now.

That frightened her most.

“You should go upstairs,” he said casually to her. “You clearly don’t enjoy business discussions.”

Valentina stared at him in horror.

“How can you do that to another human being?”

Luca looked genuinely confused by the question.

“Because he betrayed me.”

“That doesn’t justify—”

“Yes,” Luca interrupted softly. “It does.”

The certainty in his voice terrified her.

Not rage.

Not cruelty.

Belief.

Luca truly believed violence became moral once loyalty was broken.

Monster.

The word settled fully into place now.

Not difficult husband.

Not dangerous criminal.

Monster.

Luca stepped closer toward her, eyes unreadable beneath the harsh basement lights. “You look disappointed.”

“I look sick.”

“That’s because you still think the world works fairly.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “It doesn’t.”

Valentina refused to look away.

“You’re going to die eventually, Luca.”

One of the guards inhaled sharply.

Even Adrian went still beside her.

Luca stared at her for several long seconds.

Then suddenly smiled again.

Softly.

Almost affectionately.

And somehow that felt worse than the violence.

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But not before everyone who betrays me does first.”

The words landed like a threat.

Not general.

Personal.

Luca looked toward Adrian then, and the atmosphere shifted instantly.

Because now the threat included him too.