Chapter 7 Gilgamesh's Revelation

Valentina's POV

Morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of the Ricchezza villa, casting golden streaks across the silk sheets.

Raffaele lay asleep beside me, his arm heavy and possessive over my waist.

He looked almost vulnerable and beautiful, less cold, his sharp features softened.

His masculine warmth pressed against my thin nightgown, his expensive cologne weaving a dangerous spell.

He'd held me tightly all night, as if I might slip away, but my thoughts spun like a sandstorm.

Was his protectiveness just a lie?

Raffaele needed my research, my father's work on orichalcum...to secure his inheritance and power.

If I failed to deliver, would he discard me like his family did my father?

And Tullio, damn that monster.

Why was he so relentless in tormenting Maria, my best friend?

The chemistry crackling between Raffaele and me only muddied the waters. I was playing a dangerous game, and I couldn't afford to lose control.

Everything was so damn complicated.

I tried to slip from the bed with feline grace, but his grip tightened, catching me mid-escape.

"Not so fast, Valentina," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep as he pulled me closer. "Where are you going, cara mia?"

"Caro?" I scoffed, pushing against his chest. "Let me go, Raffaele. We agreed, I have boundaries, and we said no romance."

He smirked, inhaling my scent. "You smell too good-vanilla and coconut. If I let go of the deer, it might run, and I'd never see it again. Are you running from me, Valentina?"

"No," I lied, my heart racing like a cornered rabbit's. Truth was, I was fleeing the pull between us, a fire I couldn't afford to stoke.

"Don't flatter yourself, Raffaele. We have work to do."

He chuckled and sat up, brushing a hand across my thigh as he rose. "Always so feisty."

My breath hitched, but I masked it with a smirk. I stood and let the nightgown fall, stepping into a fitted blue dress. His eyes followed every movement.

"Blue underwear, Valentina? Tsk, tsk. You love to tease."

"You can keep dreaming. I'm something you'll never have."

He stepped behind me, zipping the dress like last time, his fingers deliberately grazing my back.

"Keep playing with fire, cara. But remember that I play with fire for a living."

I glanced at him in the mirror. "Then may the better arsonist win."

His hands slid to my hips, firm and lingering. He was getting too close. And I couldn't afford that.

I'd make him fall in love with me, then burn everything to ash.

"Are we taking the car?" I asked, steadying my voice.

His hands tightened briefly on my hips. "We'll see. Ready for the SUV? The Euphrates river awaits."

I nodded, then paused. "Wait. I need to check on Maria. You're sure she's safe?"

"She's fine," he said, voice firm. "I stationed men outside her room. No one gets in. I gave her a burner phone, she can call you if she needs you."

I softened slightly, grudgingly grateful. "You thought of everything."

His smirk returned. "I always do."

I slipped down the hall to Maria's guest room, knocking softly. She opened the door, her face pale, eyes red from crying.

"Valentina," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Come here," I said, pulling her into a tight hug.

Her tears dampened my shoulder as I wiped them gently with my thumb. "Don't cry, okay? I'll be back soon. We'll have a girls' night with pistachio coffee, gossip, the works. Just rest for now."

She nodded, managing a weak smile. "Promise?"

"Promise." I squeezed her hand. "You're safe here. Call me if you need me."

"Goodbye, Valentina," she murmured, hugging me again.

"Goodbye for now," I corrected, forcing a grin. I turned, steeling myself, and followed Raffaele to the black SUV waiting outside.

Two armored cars flanked it, a reminder of the danger we might face. Iraq was very unstable now.

The ride to the Euphrates was tense, the desert heat pressing like a wall.

"I don't want Tullio anywhere near you," Raffaele said abruptly, eyes fixed on the endless dunes. "That man's dangerous."

I tilted my head. "Worried about me, or your investment?"

"Both," he said flatly. "You're no good to me dead."

"Wow. Ever the romantic."

He didn't reply, just stared at the horizon.

In the distance, the Euphrates shimmered, thin, cracked and retreating. The river that once fed empires now bled into dust. The sight struck me deep, like I was watching a god die.

"Look what they found," Raffaele said, a note of pride in his voice.

I leaned forward, breath catching. "Is that... Gilgamesh's tomb?"

He smirked. "You know your ancient kings."

"Gilgamesh wasn't just a king," I said, eyes wide with awe. "He was the first hero. A demigod, two-thirds divine, one-third man. My father believed the tomb held orichalcum, lost knowledge, maybe even forgotten technologies."

"When Enkidu died," Raffaele said quietly, "he searched for immortality. And found nothing."

I turned to him, surprised. "You actually know this story?"

"Of course I do." He glanced at me. "What, you thought I was just a pretty face, a cold capitalist with no poetry in my soul?"

I smirked. "Honestly? Yes."

He laughed, and the sound, it was warm and boyish, it disarmed me. "It's not just an epic, Valentina. It's about grief. Legacy. The fear of being forgotten."

I stared at him. For a fleeting moment, I saw not the man I hated, not the enemy in my bed but someone who understood loss as I did.

We were so compatible it struck a nerve.

"Maybe we're more alike than we think," he said in a low voice. "Gods. Grief. Glory. We both chase the impossible."

"You ruin every moment," I muttered, hiding a smile.

"And yet you're still here," he said, leaning closer. "Blue underwear and all."

I bit back a laugh. "Touché."

As we pulled up, the tomb's entrance came into view, it was half-buried under sand, ringed in faded cuneiform.

Our soldiers were already moving in, along with my father's old colleague, Lale-the archaeologist. She stepped forward now, my trusted contact from the Baghdad Museum.

"Valentina." Her voice trembled with urgency.

"This is so exciting! Whatever's in there, it belongs to the people of Iraq."

I was just about to answer equally excited when all hell broke loose.

The sound cracked through the air with gunshots.

"Down!" Raffaele roared.

Before I could react, he slammed into me, shielding me with his body as we hit the ground. My face hit sand, the heat of it scraping across my cheek.

Bullets tore through the air. Screams. Shouts.

"Looters!" Raffaele barked. "Get into position!"

His men returned fire, the air thick with dust and chaos. The tomb-our discovery was already under siege.

And I was inches from death.