Bound To The Devil

Valarie's POV

The mission had been brutal, but it was worth it.

Valarie tossed the bloodstained gloves onto the table, her body aching from the last few days of non-stop work. She had gathered everything-lists of Mikhail's allies, secret shipments of weapons, and coded messages between his men. This was it. The leverage they needed to finally tear him down.

She pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Volkov."

"Get to my house. Now," she ordered, voice sharp, allowing no room for refusal.

A low chuckle. "Missed me already, sister-in-law?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up and get here. It's important."

Ten minutes later, Damien pulled up, stepping out of his sleek black car with his usual arrogant swagger. He was in his signature all-black attire, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips.

"Tell me you have good news."

"I have better than that." She held up the documents. "Weapons. Men. Allies. Mikhail's network is crumbling, and I've got the cracks right here."

Damien's smirk widened. "Well, well, Officer Ivanov. You've been busy."

Together, they entered her house-only to freeze in place.

The air was thick with an overwhelming scent of flowers.

Valarie's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her.

Her entire living room was filled with flowers. Not just any flowers-expensive, rare ones. Deep red roses, white lilies, orchids, violets... and among them, black roses. Dozens of them.

Damien's expression darkened instantly. His usual amused arrogance vanished, replaced by something cold and dangerous.

Valarie's stomach twisted.

"What the fuck is this?" she whispered.

Damien stepped forward, eyes scanning the room, sharp and calculating. He reached out, plucking a single black rose from a crystal vase.

"Who knew you liked flowers this much, Val?" he mused, but there was no humor in his voice.

She swallowed hard. Her heart pounded.

Because she knew exactly what this meant.

This wasn't a gift. It was a message. from whom?

*

Her fingers curled into fists. The scent of roses was sickly sweet, clinging to her like a warning.

Damien turned to her, still holding the black rose between his fingers. His dark eyes glinted with something unreadable.

"Who did this?" His voice was calm-too calm. That was when he was most dangerous.

Valarie exhaled sharply. "I don't know."

Damien's gaze sharpened, scanning her face for any hesitation.

"You're telling me someone broke into your damn house, filled it with flowers, and you have no idea who it could be?" He took a slow step forward. "You don't have some stalker, some admirer?"

Valarie clenched her jaw. She had many enemies, but this-this was different. This was intimate. Personal.

"I would've noticed .."

Damien scoffed. "You sure about that, Officer Ivanov? Or have you been too distracted by other things?"

She shot him a glare. "Shut up and help me figure this out."