The Rome Prophecy

123

Shooter grabs Valentina by the throat.

He’s a couple of inches taller than she is, and despite his age, he’s muscular enough to force her up on to her tiptoes.

‘Lesson number one, you only speak when I tell you to.’

His hand tightens. She can feel her airway closing off.

Shooter’s smirk widens as he walks her backwards to the rear of the cell. He crashes her into the rough stone wall and lets go.

Valentina opens her mouth and gasps for air.

She never sees his punch.

It catches her full in the lips and teeth.

She wobbles and starts to fall backwards.

Her feet almost cross and she falls.

But not flat out, just into an undignified sitting position.

Shooter smiles and holds up his grazed fist. ‘Teacher says you’ve still got some learning to do.’

Valentina puts her hands submissively to her face.

Blood trickles over her fingers. Her lip is split wide open, almost exactly in the same place where Anna caught her back in the Carabinieri cell block.

Shooter drops to his knees and grabs her by the throat again.

It’s exciting to hold her like this. To look into her eyes and see the fear rising.

It’s what he likes most.

He slips a hand between her legs and claws savagely at her trousers.

He sees the fear turn to panic.

‘Not so feisty now, are you?’

She’s terrified, he can see it. She recognises his power; knows he can do to her whatever he wants.

Valentina doesn’t struggle.

She reminds herself that what happens next is not about pride, it’s about survival.