Chapter 165

• VALENTINA
• Sunlight came through the kitchen window too bright, too sharp. I stood at the counter with black coffee in my hand. It tasted bitter. Burned going down. I didn’t care. Last night kept playing in my head—Adrian’s voice low and serious, saying he loved me. Really loved me. Not the game. Not the information. Me. The words felt like a trap snapping shut. I’d gone there to hurt Gustavo back. To prove something. Instead I just made everything messier. Regret sat heavy in my stomach. Thick. Constant.
• I told myself the worry I felt wasn’t love. It was practical. I knew about the sabotage. The shipments. The plans. If Gustavo went down, everything around him could collapse. Including me. That was all. Not that I cared about him. Not like that.