Vale's POV
The door swung open with a loud creak that made me jump. My heart felt like it might burst right out of my chest. A man stepped inside, and he was nothing like what I expected.
He was huge. Not just tall, but built like someone who could break things with his bare hands. His shoulders filled the doorway, and when he moved, every muscle seemed to know exactly what to do. His hair was black as midnight, messy like he'd been running his fingers through it. But it was his eyes that made me forget how to breathe.
They were silver. Not gray or light blue, but actual silver, like polished metal. They caught the dim light from the bulb above and seemed to glow from the inside. I'd never seen eyes like that on any person before.
"Get up," he said, his voice still rough and commanding.
I pressed myself harder against the wall, trying to make myself disappear. "I don't understand what's happening. Where am I? Who are you?"
He took another step into the room. Each footstep sounded heavy and final, like he was used to people doing what he said without question. "My name is Dante. You're in my cabin, in the middle of nowhere. And you're not going anywhere."
The way he said it made my skin crawl. Not mean, exactly, but like he was stating a fact that couldn't be changed. Like gravity or the sun rising in the morning.
"Why?" The word came out as a whisper. "What do you want with me?"
Dante's silver eyes studied my face like he was looking for something specific. "You really don't know, do you? You have no idea who you are."
I shook my head, feeling tears start to build up behind my eyes. "I can't remember anything. Not my name, not where I live, not how I got here. Please, if you know something, just tell me."
For a moment, something that might have been surprise crossed his face. Then it was gone, replaced by a coldness that made me shiver.
"Your name is Valentina Rossi," he said. "But everyone calls you Vale. You're twenty-three years old, and you're the daughter of one of the most dangerous men on the West Coast."
"Dangerous?" I couldn't hide the shock in my voice. "What kind of dangerous?"
"The kind that kills people who get in his way." Dante's hands curled into fists at his sides. "The kind that destroyed my family three nights ago and left me with nothing."
I tried to process what he was saying, but it felt like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. A dangerous father? A family destroyed? None of it made sense.
"I don't understand," I said. "If my father hurt your family, why did you take me? What does that solve?"
Dante's laugh was bitter and sharp. "Because Marco Rossi loves exactly one thing in this world. His precious daughter. And now I have her."
The words hit me like a slap. He'd kidnapped me to hurt someone I couldn't even remember. To use me as a weapon against a father whose face I couldn't picture.
"That's not fair," I whispered. "I didn't do anything to you. I don't even remember this Marco person."
"Fair?" Dante's voice got louder, and I saw something dangerous flash in those silver eyes. "Was it fair when your father's men broke into my home? Was it fair when they killed my mother while she was sleeping? Was it fair when they burned down everything I'd ever cared about?"
Each word came out harder than the last. His hands were shaking now, not with fear like mine, but with pure rage. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and I pulled my knees closer to my chest.
"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. "I'm sorry that happened to your family. But I swear I don't remember any of it. I don't remember anything about having a father or being part of whatever he did."
Dante stared at me for a long moment. His silver eyes seemed to be looking right through me, searching for lies or tricks. But there weren't any. I was telling the truth, and somehow he could see that.
"You really don't remember," he said finally. It wasn't a question anymore.
"No. I woke up here with cuts and bruises, and everything before that is just... empty. Like someone erased it all." I touched the side of my head where a particularly bad bump was forming. "Maybe I hit my head too hard?"
Something changed in Dante's expression. Just for a second, he looked almost... concerned? But then the cold mask slipped back into place.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "You're still his daughter. You're still my insurance that he'll pay for what he did."
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, hating how small and scared my voice sounded.
"Nothing, as long as your father cooperates. You're worth more to me alive than dead." He turned toward the door like he was getting ready to leave. "There's food and water on the shelf. A bucket in the corner if you need it. Don't try to escape. There's nowhere to run out here, and the woods are full of things that would love to find a lost little girl."
"Wait," I called out as he reached the door. "Please. Can you at least tell me more about who I am? About this father you say I have?"
Dante paused with his hand on the door handle. When he looked back at me, those silver eyes seemed to glow brighter in the dim light.
"Marco Rossi runs the biggest crime family on the West Coast. Drugs, weapons, murder for hire - if it's illegal and profitable, he controls it. You lived in a mansion with armed guards and went to private schools where they taught you how to be a proper princess." His voice got harder with each word. "You had everything handed to you while families like mine struggled to survive."
"But I don't feel like a princess," I said honestly. "I don't feel rich or spoiled or any of those things. I just feel... lost."
"Maybe losing your memory was a blessing," Dante said. "Maybe now you can see what it's like to be powerless. To have your whole world ripped away from you."
He started to leave again, but I couldn't let him go. Not yet. There were too many questions spinning in my head.
"Dante," I said, and he stopped. "What happened to your family? How did they... how did my father's people find you?"
His whole body went rigid. When he turned around this time, his face was a mask of pure pain and fury. Those silver eyes weren't just glowing anymore - they were blazing like twin stars.
"They came in the middle of the night," he said, his voice barely controlled. "Broke down our doors, shot anyone who tried to run. My mother tried to protect my little sister, but they killed them both. My father died trying to fight them off with his bare hands."
"Oh god," I whispered, covering my mouth with my hands. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry doesn't bring them back." His eyes were getting brighter and brighter, almost too bright to look at directly. "Sorry doesn't fix anything."
That's when I noticed something else was changing. His hands weren't just shaking with anger anymore - they were changing shape. His fingers looked longer, and his nails had grown into sharp points that looked more like claws than human fingernails.
"Dante," I said quietly, my heart starting to race again. "Your eyes... they're glowing."
He looked down at his hands and cursed under his breath. When he looked back up at me, those silver eyes were blazing so bright they seemed to light up the whole room.
"You want to know the truth about what your father destroyed?" he asked, his voice getting deeper and rougher. "He didn't just kill my human family. He killed my pack."