Bound by Shadows

Valentina~

Pain.

It was all I could feel.

It crashed over me in waves, sharp and unrelenting, swallowing me whole.

I pressed my hand over my mouth, biting down on my own skin to keep from screaming.

I couldn't make a sound.

I couldn't let them hear me.

Because if they knew—

If my father found out I was in labor—

He would take them from me.

And I would rather die than let that happen.

Seven months.

Seven agonizing, endless months of being trapped in this hell.

I had lost track of time, of days, of hope.

But now?

Now, I was out of time.

I had felt it that morning—the first deep, twisting pain low in my belly.

At first, I thought it was stress. Exhaustion. Maybe even dehydration.

But then it had come again. And again.

And now?

I was hunched over in the darkness of my cell, my body torn between agony and terror, my breathing uneven as the contractions came faster.

This was happening.

Here.

Alone.

A tear slipped down my cheek, but I refused to break.

I would not break.

I had survived Alessandro De Luca's torture. I had endured seven months of isolation. I had fought every single day to stay alive—for them.

And I would not let him take them from me.

I bit down harder, muffling another strangled cry as another contraction ripped through me.

It was getting worse.

Closer together.

I had no one. No midwife. No doctor. No warm hands to hold mine and whisper that everything would be okay.

I had only myself.

Only my will.

Only my hatred for the man who had done this to me.

Another wave of pain.

I pressed my back against the cold floor, my legs trembling as I forced myself to breathe.

My body felt like it was breaking open.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

And then, through the blinding pain—

I felt it.

A shift. A pressure. A tiny, fragile life slipping free from my body.

A weak, muffled cry.

I gasped, my entire body shaking as I reached down with trembling hands, lifting my child onto my chest.

A boy.

My son.

Dante's son.

A sob wracked through me, but I swallowed it down.

Not yet.

It wasn't over yet.

I had no strength left.

But I didn't have a choice.

Minutes passed—maybe an hour. Maybe more.

And then, when I thought my body could take no more, when the darkness nearly swallowed me whole—

Another life slipped free.

My second son.

My twins.

A shaky, silent cry left my lips as I held them both against me, my hands trembling as I stared down at their tiny, perfect faces.

They were so small. So fragile.

And I would not let him take them.

I tore a piece of fabric from my dress, biting back the pain as I tied off their umbilical cords. My breaths came fast, shallow. The exhaustion was pulling me under, dragging me into unconsciousness, but I refused to give in.

I pulled my sons close, wrapping them in the tattered remains of my blanket, holding them against my chest.

Their tiny bodies were warm, their soft, shallow breaths the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

I closed my eyes, pressing a trembling kiss to their foreheads.

"Just a little longer," I whispered, my voice weak, but unbreakable.

"Dante is coming."

And when he did—

We would finally be free.

To Be Continued...