VenomHailey's POV~The silence of the penthouse shattered as I threw a crystal vase against the wall. The humiliation from the gala stunned—Stefan’s cold rejection still ringing in her ears. I’d pulled him aside, my smile coy, and introduced him to an executive as “my first lover, the one who broke my heart.” His eyes had sparked, his jaw clenched, and he’d snarled, “Do not know her,” and shoved me out of his path, proving me a fool in front of the elite of Seren. My chest hitched, jealousy clawing my heart as I imagined him with her—Valenticia, beautiful Valenticia. I staggered to the shining glass, my reflection a perfect specimen, a set of crimson lips the image of my raven hair, though my eyes were filled with rage. When I was 18, I tried to seduce Stefan, putting vodka in his drink at a Lovtan party, his tie loose, shirt half unbuttoned. Even drunk, he’d still shoved me, drunk and muttered “Not you, Haisley.” Now, he’d arrived at the gala with Valenticia; his hand on her waist,
Fires of the Heart Valenticias POV~ I felt my heart beat increase rapidly as I faced the board, their gazes penetrating me, cold and hard. The leaked audio — my voice, contorted, admitting to having bribed them — had turned me into a fraud, and their resistance loomed large, my hands sweaty. I clutched the edge of the podium, trying to make my knees stop shaking. Larson, leaned forward, curling his thin excuse for lips. “And now,” he drawled, “Miss Clawford, this audio is evidence of your deceit. Resign, or we vote you out.” Whispers erupted in the room as some members nodded, there was a movement of restlessness. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, recalling Grandmother Rosanna’s voice, “Command the room, Valenticia. You’re Clawford’s blood.” “Mr. Larson,” I said, my voice firm despite the nerves scrambling in my chest, “that audio is a lie. My two years of on-the-job training and leadership through three international expansions and an 18 percent revenue lift — sh
Facades Stefan's POV~ The grand ballroom of the gala was throbbing with opulence until the projector flared to life. I felt my heart break as the photo of Valenticia and me on the balcony, her hand in mine was displayed across the screen: The heiress’s lie. The murmurs of the crowd increased in chorus and whispers erupted. Valenticia’s face turned pale, the gold dress she was wearing squeezed by her trembling hands and her eyes wide with fear as she gasped for breath. She gripped my arm, her fingers shaking, with a silent question in her eyes that made me want to die. “Fraud!” a man hissed with his wine glass raised in a pinstripe suit nearby. “If she’s a liar, Clawford’s done.” A woman in emerald silk sneered, “Rosanna’s so desperate, shoving in a nobody.” Their words hurt, but amidst it all, some sympathetic whispers cut through — “Poor girl.” an older CEO murmured. The resentment and the pity mixed. The paparazzi hurdled towards us, their cameras popping like gunshots and their
Masks of MotiveValenticias POV~I stood in front of the mirror, my breath shallow, the sapphire ring he’d sent flashing on my finger. My heart pounded as I pulled the gown on, the silk encasing my body, the off-the-shoulder beautifying my collarbone, the train falling against the ground. I pulled my hair into a loose chignon, letting loose tendrils frame my face, and applied my makeup with care — a smoky eyeshadow to sharpen my gaze, a bold red lip to mask my nerves. What the mirror cast back was a woman ready, but inside I was a mess filled with dread and anticipation.I slipped on gold heels with dainty straps and started to descend the grand staircase of the estate. The doorbell rang, and the maid, Lena, went to the door as the driver—Stefan’s man, with his black suit, his cap worn with humble respect—stepped in and nodded. "Miss Clawford," said he, "Mr. Myles sent me."We didn't speak with each other during the whole drive to the gala. Music and power pulsed through the glass-wal
Whispers of CourageValencia's POV~I stood in the bathroom of my room, the warm cascade of the shower hitting me as it poured down over me, steam curling around my shoulders that rose high out of the water. I thought of Stefan, and of his voice from last night, outside of Clara’s home, “Come crash at my place tonight”. The words had taken me by surprise, his eyes holding mine with a heat that awakened something deep.I smiled, replaying the memory of the way he had stared at my lips, that moment when the air had become charged with the possibility of what could have been. What if I had taken the first move and stepped close, pressing my lips to his, letting the heat from that spark consume us? A shiver ran through me as my fingers traced my lips imagining, how nice he would have tasted kissing and sucking him, but I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Stefan was something else—solid, protective and guarded, but I simply couldn’t indulge myself, not when that fake video from Natash
Subtle Victory Stefan's POV~ Clara’s thin frame, bruised by Natasha’s cruelty, trembled within Valenticia’s arm, and her gratitude came in a whisper. I’d made Clara promise not to speak of her capture, the part of rescuing her from Galden’s clutches. I owed her family for getting them entangled in this mess. The only sound I could hear was the one in my head as we drove to Clara’s house through the rain-slick streets of Seryne later that night. At the station, Clara had called her family to inform them about her safety and her journey back home. I’d built security around her scruffy row house, shielding her from whatever move Natasha intended to make next. Valenticia was seated next to me, a bandage covering her hand and a look in her eyes both far away and scared. When we arrived at Clara’s, we followed her inside. As we arrived, her parents Maria and Tom embraced her weeping, then wrapped their arms around us and thanked us in choked voices. “You saved her,” Maria said, tear
Tangled Bonds Valenticias POV~ I jerked awake, my breath burning in my chest, Stefan’s arms holding me tight as the gas dissipated from the safe house. He looked at me with desperately relieved eyes, his voice filled with urgency. “Valenticia, what happened? Are you okay?” My head was throbbing, the memory of collapsing under the gas’s sting fuzzy, but his worry grounded me. “I'm… fine,” I nodded, weak, the hand with the bandages hurting. He swept me up easily, carrying me out to his car, the rain-soaked night slapping against the windows. The car ride was quiet, my mind whirring with Clara’s picture- gagged, imprisoned in the van. The silence was broken by Elaine’s call, which came while at a new safehouse hidden away as a stark bunker in Seryne’s industrial sprawl. “Valenticia,” she said, her voice strained, “I dug into Natasha’s past. Dmitri offered to marry her if she put you in the trouble. It’s personal.” My heart turned over, Dmitri’s betrayal was a wound that never c
Flaws in the EmpireGregor's POV~The safe house was heavy with mildew and betrayal, my hands shaking as I looked at the laptop screen, Natasha’s leaked emails tearing Valenticia apart in the newsfeeds of Seryne. Her private writings, forged, cast her as a disgrace on Clawford’s memory. Natasha’s plan was exquisite, carried out with precision and ruthlessness, and for a moment, I admired her. The hacked Clawford server, its data was her handiwork, and it was drawing in tighter around my cousin's neck. Natasha’s heels clicked as she moved into the room, wearing a red coat. “Clara’s in the van,” she said, tossing a tablet onto the table, a grainy feed playing of Clara, gagged and shivering, in the back of a moving vehicle. “Valenticia’s down at the dock’s wasting her time. ”I reclined, my fingers steepled, in front of me to hide the shake in my hands. “Very good,” I replied, my voice cold. “We push harder. I need a press conference tomorrow. We can blow the lid off of Valenticia’s ‘cr
Tides of RevelationStefan's POV~Rain lashed the streets of Seryne and my tires screeched as I drove into the neon-soaked night. Valenticia's cracked voice, describing a black S.U.V. swerving into her. As a result of her mindless pursuit of Clara, I had told her to wait at the estate, not knowing she would defile me. I thought about the image of her out there on her own hunted by Galden enforcer and the fear alone made me press the gas pedal a little harder. My Glock was against my ribs, a heavy chill, but it was Valenticia’s mention of Clara, her intention not to give her up, that kept the adrenaline coursing through me. I drove into Pier 17, the dock stretching around a field of rusted shipping containers. I sighted her car next. Valenticia’s car was parked nearby, its door open, a shoe which was hers laid next to a container, its edge smeared with blood. My stomach knotted, panic rising, but there were faint footsteps in the wet gravel that led to Lot C. I tip-toed my way followi