Matteo's obsession

Valentina's Pov

"Beautiful, dangerous, innocent. That's exactly what I want." His tone lowered like stone dipped in water. His voice wrapped around me like a cloak.

He wrapped a hand around my neck before yanking me closer to him. His hot breath sent thrills through my body.

His grip got tighter as the string I was wearing was doing very little to cover me up.

My chest heaved and I knew he liked it.

"She's one of our best strippers bosses. You can have her for as long as you want. My hand tried to release the grip he had on his neck.

He looked down, with a very dangerous smirk on his face. I shrunk under his gaze.

"I...I have to perform soon. I'm...I'm next..." I stuttered while he leaned in closer.

"Oh no sweetheart, you're serving me tonight." I yelped when he lifted me so I was hung over his shoulder.

"Mr Russo." I struggled against him. "Please let me go. If you don't I might lose my job." I complained. I heard a loud smack that stilled me. "You just..."

"Behave." He warned. Then we entered a room with him staring at me with hungry eyes.

"Mr. Russo, I signed a no sexual agreement. I believe it's against the rules to sleep with me." I said, but he took both my hands and placed them above my head before he leaned in closer.

"And your father signed a marriage contract for you." He said, causing my eyes to widen.

"He would never." I growled.

"Don't you dare growl at me." His tone lowered to a foreboding one. "If you want to know the truth, you can ask him."

"How do you know my father?" I asked while he chuckled, the sound of it so pleasing to me.

He caressed my thighs. "I know so many things about you." He leaned closer before whispering. "Valentina Alexia Baldini, daughter of Giovanni Ricco Baldini, age nineteen, school attendance history, drop out. Your father knows you're a stripper and wants you married so you can stop."

"Are you stalking me?" I asked with annoyance.

"I'll advise you not to give me that look. I'm not a very kind man, sweetheart." I said.

"Tell my father that he can fuck off with the stupid contract. I never asked for marriage!" I screamed.

He chuckled humorlessly. "You speak as though he doesn't know the type of world you live in." His grip on my hand tightened. "And I'm getting impatient here." He said and while I wanted to break away from him, I realized that was a terrible idea because I had a terrible pain shoot up my arm."

"Fuck." I cussed out of pain.

"Look at me." He started but I was too occupied with getting away from him. Then he pressed me against the bed so I could feel every inch of him. My eyes widened. "Your escape plan is making it worse." He growled out, obviously struggling to hold himself.

"Please... please let me go." I said,hoping my features looked pleading enough. His eyes lingered on mine for a moment too long , before he straightened.

"Strip." He said, causing my eyes to widen.

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." He growled.

I was barely clothed already but I was hesitant. I was usually so confident in front of men but today I felt different.

"I won't hesitate to do it for you." He stated impatiently. Hesitantly, I took off my g-string, before taking off the strings attached to my chest. It barely covered it anyway.

He closed the gap between us, before gripping my ass and giving it a squeeze. He looked down at me while making sure I felt his manhood.

My cheeks flushed as heat crept to my face.

"For someone who's a stripper, you don't seem to have had a lot of experiences with men." He said before leaning down and whispering. "I like that, cause you're my whore."

"I don't belong to you." I blurted trying to shield my fear. "I know one." He gripped my neck.

"Let me tell you this so you can keep it in your stubborn head. I own this place, just as much as I own every single woman working under me." He stated.

"W...why did you not go for another woman? Why me?" I stuttered.

"You see Sabrina," He moved closer to me, causing me to lean backwards. "I know what I want, and I go for what I want." His

My chest heaved, causing his eyes to lower. He smirked when he noticed how affected I was.

He traced his thumb down my face, his piercing eyes boring into mine like they were boring into my soul.

"Didn't you act like you didn't want me seconds ago? Care to explain why you're so responsive then?" He said.

"You aren't helping so much either." I retorted and saw his lip twirl upwards.

"Smart mouth there I see." He stated.

He was doing too much, teasing me this way.

"Still won't say anything?" He questioned.

"Mr. Russo." I

"So now you know my name." His voice sent thrills down my spine. It was so heavy and smooth.

"Mr. Russo, you're not even supposed to be here. This is wrong."

"As wrong as your boyfriend cheating with your step sister?"

My eyes widened.

"What do you mean by..."

"Shh, don't act like you're all that innocent, you're a stripper." He reminded me, as he stroked me with his fingers. My jaw dropped out of pleasure.

"I've never given myself out to any man and he knows that." I managed to say even though I was still contemplating his statement. How true was what he said?

He cocked a brow at me.

"What do you call a woman, at the mercy of another man who wishes to take her right here right now?" He asked, causing me to worry. "No joke, she's so responsive."

"You don't have to be so blunt." I said, trying to pull away, but with his stronger strength, he pinned me down and made me look at him in the eyes.

They were striking blue, and dark. One could tell there were so many mysteries clouded in those eyes.

"Why are you feeling guilty?" His question really made my heart skip.

"I don't feel guilty, I just don't believe he would do such a thing." I said.

"It's pointless talking about it then." He leaned closer before kissing me right above my cheekbone.

"Wha...what are you doing?" I asked, breathless. Then threw my head back as his eyes darkened, staring into my eyes.

"You're innocent." He smirked and before I could speak.

"Oh my gosh, we just met." I was unable to believe his bluntness.

"I've known you for eleven years sweetheart." He said. "So you're not so new to me.

Eleven years? That was pretty creepy, but why wasn't I scared?

"You're stalking me?"

"Your boyfriend never cares that much about you?" His question made me gasp.

"He...he..." I stuttered.

"I see. You've made your point."

"I swear he's not a bad person. He makes me laugh and smile."

His eyes narrowed at me. "So why can't I see it in your eyes? If he makes you happy, why are you still a stripper?"

"That's none of your business." I said, trying to push me off him but he wouldn't budge.

I kept squirming uncomfortably. My brows scrunched.

"You look so cute in this position." He said while I glared at him. He chuckled. "I have a proposition for you."

"What's that?"

"I don't know. Depends on how willing you are."

VALENTINA'S POV

"Mr. Leonardo. I sincerely admire your paintings." Mark started shaking Mr. Leo's hand with a firm grip. "It's truly an honor to finally meet you in person."

I stood behind him, sipping my champagne, totally uninterested as I recalled Russo's words from yesterday.

'Work with me, and I'll give you everything you ask for.'

Work with him? He never mentioned what for. Now I am currently with my boyfriend.

Besides, he didn't bother introducing me. It was as though I was non-existent to him.

I rolled my eyes and looked around, sighting all the gentlemen and women laughing amongst themselves with elegance.

I mentally mocked myself. I could never be one of these high classes. I was just too unsophisticated.

A professional stripper raised in the hoods.

"And who is this beautiful lady?" Mr. Leonardo asked, catching my attention.

"Oh, this is my fiancee." Mark finally introduced. I nearly rolled my eyes again, but instead forced a professional smile.

A smile that seemed real after so many months of practice. Being a stripper is huge work.

"Pleasure to meet you ." He complimented while I gave a warm smile.

"And you too Mr. Leo." I said before he gave Mark a knowing look.

"You really outdid yourself Mr. Valdin." Mr. Leo let out a laugh while Mark forced him just to join him.

I was sick of this place already. Can we get out of here?

I was here not because I wanted to be, but because I was invited by my boyfriend Mark.

The scent of prosecco mingled with the sharp tang of fresh paint filled my nostrils.

As an artist, he had his painting mixed with the prestigious paintings of the cavernous space of Galleria d'Oro.

Flickers of tiny fairy lights cast warm glows on the polished marble floors.

Tonight was the opening of Marco Rossi's latest exhibition, "Luce e Ombre" as I heard... meaning light, and shadow.

I had no idea that Leo was already gone till Mark gripped my hand and pulled me close.

"I saw what you fucking did there Sabrina. Flirting with a man in front of me." His grip was so painful I winced.

"But I did nothing, I didn't even speak until he spoke to me." I defended myself.

"Talking back. You're fucking starting to grow wings. " He eyes were so menacing that I couldn't even bring myself to utter another word because of the terror of what he'd do that whirled in me. "Now behave."

He really seemed to have forgotten that I got him to this level in his life. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't be here today and he remains so ungrateful.

For weeks I helped him prepare for this night. My heart swelled with so much pride for him and yet, he had never done one big thing for me.

Not as much as buying chocolate gifts on my birthday.

I sighed before turning to walk away. He gripped my hand again.

"Where the hell are you going?" He questioned angrily.

And before I could open my mouth to say anything a commotion erupted at the entrance.

Four men in black leather jackets and menacing expressions walked in, their eyes darting around the room.

Perplexed, an unsettling chill snaked down my spine as realizations dawned on me.

Intruders.

The leader, a man with a cruel twist to his lips and a shaved head etched with a menacing scar, shoved a security guard aside with a sneer.

He reached into his pocket, and my breath hitched as the glint of a switchblade caught the light.

He wasn't here for art appreciation.

"Questa festa è finita," he growled, his voice gravelly and laced with menace. (This party is over.)

"Run." I said and Mark saved himself, leaving me to stand. Coward.

People scramble back knocking over glasses and spilling wine.

A shriek pierced the air as a crystal sculpture toppled, shattering into a million glittering pieces.

I spotted Enzo Ferrari, the owner of the rival gallery. He stood there in shock,his eyes darting between the intruders and Marco Moretti.

"Pensavi di potermi superare, Enzo?" The leader whose name I later knew as Luca spat, his voice dripping with disdain. (Did you think you could outdo me, Enzo?)

Moretti straightened his spine, a flicker of defiance replacing his initial shock. "La galleria è mia," he retorted, his voice surprisingly firm. (The gallery is mine.)

"Non più," Luca snarled, pulling a gun from his jacket holster. (Not anymore.)

A deafening gunshot pierces through the air, splintering another one of the chandeliers. Glass rained down like a deadly hailstorm.

The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I had to do something, anything. My eyes darted around the room, desperate for a weapon. My gaze fell on a fallen wine bottle, the ruby liquid shimmering on the polished floor.

Without a second thought, I snatched it up, the cool glass biting into my palm. With a wild throw of my arm, I launched the bottle at Luca's head. It sailed through the air with surprising accuracy, the impact connecting with a satisfying crack.

The bottle shattered against his temple, sending shards of glass flying. Luca stumbled back, momentarily stunned, the gun falling from his numb fingers. It clattered across the floor, skidding several feet away.

Enzo didn't waste the opportunity. He lunged at Luca, tackling him to the ground. They grappled like wild animals, a flurry of fists and kicks. But this time, Enzo seemed fueled by a righteous fury, raining blows down on Luca.

The silence that followed was thick and heavy. People began to stir, murmuring amongst themselves.

But the jovial atmosphere of the evening was gone, replaced by a lingering sense of unease.

A folded piece of paper caught my eye nestled beneath a fallen easel.

Curious, I picked it up. It was just a white card, smooth and pristine.

"You know too much about Valentine. And I'm coming for you."

My heart jumped to my throat as I read the content in the paper.

I looked around trying to see any suspicious movements lurking between the crowd.

My eyes suddenly landed on a pair of cold calculating eyes.

They belonged to a man that I never thought I'd see again.

His lips were curved into a chilling smile, one that could send shivers down your spine.

His eyes pierced through my soul, and I found it difficult to look away.

A silent threat trapped in a single look.

VALENTINA'S POV

He pushed me against the bed.

"Mark, do not do this." I warned while he went ahead to take off his clothes.

"How long am I supposed to wait?"

"You know I'm not ready yet." I said while he removed his belt.

"Then when will you ever be?" He was frustrated. "I really wish you could be more like her."

"Like who?" I questioned with furrowed brows .

"Kaitlyn!" He yelled.

This wasn't the first time he'd mention that to me though.

"If you loved her that much, you should have never left her." I said and his face twisted to something terrifying.

"What did you just say?" He questioned.

I was sick and tired of him thinking he could boss me about.

"I have somewhere to be Mark. I really don't have time for this." I said, about to leave when he thrust me back onto the bed.

"You're going to your stripper's lodge again aren't you. To sleep with men again isn't it?"

"I told you I'm sleeping with nobody. It's to make money. And you know it's the money I get out of it that I use to sustain the both of us." I said, wearing my lace.

"You whore." He murmured, causing me to pause what I was doing and raise my gaze.

"What did you just call me?" I cocked a brow.

"You fucking whore."

I couldn't believe the gut of this guy. "So now I'm the whore. When you had absolutely nothing to give to our relationship, who stepped up to do that? Me! I got you everything people give you credit for even to the position you have right now and all you can call me, is a whore? You spend my money, I let you keep yours all the time so you can enjoy it. And what do you give me in return?!" I yelped when I felt his hand connect with my face. My eyes widened in shock.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me." He said and I'd never felt this disappointed in my life. "My mother warned me about you, but I refused to listen. Aside from money, what else do you bring to the table?! Nothing. Don't blame me for your demise bitch. You're in a relationship, so those are your responsibilities." He said before smacking the belt in his hand down and leaving the room.

The cheeked he slapped me stung and I nearly broke down in tears.

After a few minutes I packed what I needed to pack. When I was ready to leave I opened the door...or tried to because the door was locked. It wasn't when Mark was here...

"Mark! Mark opens the door!" I yelled on top of my lungs. "Mark, why the hell are you doing?!"

My fist pounded against the door. Fear, cold and sharp twisted in my guts. This wasn't even a fight anymore. This was different.

"Mark! This isn't funny at all!" I yelled, my voice hoarse.

Silence.

Did he move the refrigerator? I was hearing a steady him in the distance.

Fuck fuck fuck. I was going to be late. I was going to get fired. How was I going to explain this to them?

I scanned the room for anything useful. My phone was on the nightstand, charging. Thank goodness. I reached for it and a sickening realization hit me.

My phone wasn't there.

Not on the nightstand or on the floor, not even in my purse by the door.

He took it.

My fist instinctively clenched while I gritted my teeth.

"Mark if you don't fucking open this door! I swear to god I'll..." My threat died in my throat as a sound as a sound reached me, faint but unmistakable.

A muffed "thump-thump-thump", steady and rhythmic. Not from inside the apartment, more like from somewhere...below.

My blood ran cold because the first thing that I could think about was. What the hell was that sound?

I strained my ear to listen. The thumping grew louder, accompanied by a scratching noise.

My eyes darted to the air vent on the floor. Something I'd never noticed before. My brows furrowed.

What the hell was Mark hiding under this place?

Ignoring the tremor in my legs I grabbed a nearby shoe and period at the grate.

The metal bent with a sickening screech, revealing a cramped, dimly lit crawl space.

The scratching sound intensified, a frantic scraping against the concrete floor.

Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my body through the narrow opening.

The air was thick with dust and the metallic tang of fear.

The space was tight, forcing me to crawl on my hands and knees.

I followed the sound, the darkness pressing in on me, suffocating.

The scratching turned into a desperate banging, and then, I saw it.

A small, metal hatch set into the concrete floor, secured with a heavy padlock.

That's where the sound was coming from.

My heart hammered in my chest as I fumbled with the lock, its combination a mystery.

The banging grew frantic, pleading. Who was trapped down there? And what did Mark have to do with it?

My fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. A key.

It wasn't on my keychain, but there it was, glinting faintly in the dust.

With trembling hands, I inserted it into the lock. It clicked open.

Hesitantly, I lifted the hatch. A wave of stale air and a muffled scream hit me.

As I went down the stairs, a lady came into view. Like she's been waiting for someone to come save her.

The stench that hit me nearly made me dizzy.

What the hell...I stepped down the stairs while she began to struggle against the chair.

Her scream muffled the cloth in her mouth.

What she wore left very little to the imagination.

Her body was scarred with both healed and I healed wounds.

I was in disbelief as I shuffled towards her, her doe eyes silently pleading with me to rescue her.

Mark? Did Mark really do this?

Then I heard footsteps coming towards me.

Fuck.

I've never been as terrified as this in my life.

I had to get out of here. Now.