3

VALERIE POV

The car drove smoothly down the road, leaving the police station and all those flashing lights far behind us.

I leaned forward in my seat, staring at the back of Victoria’s head. “Where are we going?”

“To a private estate on the northern cliffs,” Victoria said, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Julian tricked the reporters and sent them straight to your apartment building. You can’t go back there tonight. I’ll deal with the press, but right now, you just need a safe place to stay.”

Before I could even digest that, Victoria reached into her coat, pulled out a second white envelope, and passed it back to me.

“I need your signature on the forms inside,” she said, her eyes sliding back to the dark road.

I frowned, taking the cold paper into my hands. “What forms?”

“Transfer papers for your grandfather,” Victoria replied simply. “We’re moving him out of the community ward tonight and taking him to Grand Crest Haven.”

My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Grand Crest Haven.

That was the absolute top care home in the state. Private doctors, beautiful gardens, full-time memory care. I had looked at their brochure two years ago, but the cost for just one month was more than I made in half a year. When I was with Julian, I couldn't just pull money out of our business account as I pleased, and I refused to sell my grandfather’s cottage.

I pulled out the document. The official stamp at the top was real. The fees were already paid in full for the next two years.

My throat went dry. I looked back up at Victoria in the mirror.

“Is it him?” I asked softly, my fingers clutching the paper tight. “The number one fan... did he do this too?”

Victoria gave a simple, smooth nod. “Yes.”

A strange, heavy knot tied itself in my stomach. It wasn't relief—it was pure fear.

In the world of the rich, nobody does things like this out of the goodness of their heart. And this is not even longer a thing, he pays my bail, gives me a secret apartment, and still wants to cover my grandfather's medical bills.

What does this man want from me?

I pulled the papers back against my chest, staring right into the mirror.

“I'm not signing this yet.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Why not? It’s the best care he can get.”

“Because I need to meet him first,” I said, keeping my voice dead steady even though my hands were shaking. “I want to stand in front of him and ask what he wants from me before I sign anything, I know he has done a lot for me but I don’t want him to do more than I can repay”

Victoria let out a quiet, amused breath.

“Are you afraid, Valerie?” she asked gently.

I didn't answer her. I couldn't. I just turned my head and pressed my forehead against the window, watching the dark trees rush past outside. My brain wouldn't stop spinning. Who is he? And what kind of trap am I walking into?

Twenty minutes later, the car glided through a set of massive iron gates and stopped in front of a stunning, modern mansion sitting on the ocean cliff.

Victoria unbuckled her seatbelt and walked me right to the main entrance. At the front door, an elderly woman with silver hair pinned back neatly and a warm smile was already waiting for us.

“I’ll take my leave now, Valerie,” Victoria said, stopping at the threshold. “My team is handling the news and the police. Rest well tonight, and I’ll keep you updated tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Victoria,” I whispered genuinely.

Victoria gave me a quick nod, turned on her heel, and walked back to her car.

“Welcome to the estate, Miss Montgomery,” the elderly woman said gently, stepping aside so I could enter. “I am Mrs. Evelyn. Sir had a slight delay with his private jet from London—he just landed an hour ago. He won't be able to see you tonight, but he would love to join you for breakfast at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning.”

“Oh... alright,” I said, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Mrs. Evelyn led me through the house, and I couldn't help but stare. The interior was breath-taking—high ceilings, warm golden lighting, marble floors, and soft art lining the halls. It felt more like a five-star private resort than a house.

She led me up a grand staircase to a huge master bedroom with a king-sized bed, soft white sheets, and a wide balcony overlooking the dark ocean. A tray of fresh, hot food was already sitting on the small table near the window.

“Please eat and get some rest,” Mrs. Evelyn said with a kind nod before closing the door softly behind her.

I took a warm shower, washing off the smell of the police station. I ate a few bites of the food, but my stomach was too tight to finish it.

I laid down on the massive bed, but sleep just wouldn't come.

Whenever reporters are involved, the internet moves fast. I picked up my phone and opened the news app. The top headline immediately caught my eye:

CHEF VALERIE MONTGOMERY RELEASED ON BAIL—POLICE CONFIRM VIP VICTIM IS OUT OF COMA AND INVESTIGATION CONTINUES

I let out a long, heavy breath, leaning my head back against the pillows. The police were finally looking into it properly. The guest was alive.

I closed the news app, and the phone screen went back to my lock screen.

My chest instantly tightened.

It was a photo of me and Julian from two years ago, laughing together at the grand opening of L’Etoile. His arm was around my shoulder, and I looked so blissfully happy, so completely in love.

A sharp, burning pain stabbed straight through my heart. How could someone who held me like that throw me to the wolves without blinking? How could five years of love turn into such a cold betrayal in a single night?

Tears flooded my eyes before I could stop them. I buried my face into the pillow and cried until my body went completely numb, eventually drifting into a heavy, exhausted sleep.

A soft, steady knock on the door woke me up the next morning.

I rubbed my swollen eyes and sat up. The bright morning sun was streaming through the balcony glass.

“Come in,” I called out, my voice raspy.

Mrs. Evelyn stepped in, carrying a garment bag over her arm.

“Good morning, Miss Montgomery,” she said cheerfully. “Sir is downstairs waiting for you in the dining room. I brought you a simple dress for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Evelyn.”

I got up, washed my face, and slipped into the dress. It was a simple, beige knit dress that fit me perfectly, soft and comfortable for the morning. I quickly brushed my hair, took a deep breath, and walked out of the room.

Mrs. Evelyn guided me down the stairs to a bright dining room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass wall, showing the sun crashing against the ocean waves below.

Sitting at the end of a long table was a man.

The moment my eyes landed on him, my feet completely glued to the floor.

Julian was handsome, but the man sitting in front of me wasn't even on the same planet. Julian was nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to this man. He was a 100 out of 100.

He looked like he was in his late thirties or early forties, aging with a dangerous, powerful elegance. He wore a dark, tailored suit jacket over an unbuttoned crisp white shirt that showed off a broad, powerful chest. He had sharp, cut-from-marble features, a dark jawline shadow, and jet-black hair with faint, silvery threads running through the temples, pushed back effortlessly. His posture was so dominant, so raw and commanding, that he held the entire room without moving a single muscle.

I stood there, completely frozen, losing myself in his breathtaking presence. My mind went totally blank.

“Hello, Miss Montgomery,” a voice called out.

His voice snapped me right back to reality.

I blinked fast, my cheeks burning with heat as I realized I had been staring at him with my mouth slightly open. I quickly pulled myself together, forced my shoulders back, and walked closer to the table.

His intense, cold grey eyes stayed locked onto me as I approached, sending a fierce, electric shiver straight down my spine.

He didn't get up, and he didn't smile. He just set his silver pen down on the table, watching me take a seat across from him.

“I am Leonard Black,” he said, his deep, smooth baritone vibrating in my chest. “You wanted to meet me.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look past those intense grey eyes and pull my focus entirely back to business. As gorgeous and overwhelming as he was, I couldn't afford to get distracted.

“Thank you, Mr. Black,” I said, keeping my posture straight and my voice steady. “You’ve done a lot for me in a very short time. But in my world, nobody moves mountains like this out of kindness. Is there something you want in return?”

A slow, cold smirk touched Leonard’s lips. That sharp, dark look in his grey eyes darkened even further, full of quiet amusement at how direct I was being.

He leaned forward just an inch, his broad shoulders casting a shadow across the table.

“Direct. I like that,” he said, his deep voice wrapping around the room.

“You’re right, Valerie. I don't do charity,” Leonard said, his deep, smooth voice echoing softly across the room. “This is an investment. Because I plan to use you.”

My breath caught in my throat. Use me?

Before I could ask what he meant, Leonard reached down, picked up a thick leather folder with no name on it, and slowly pushed it across the table until it stopped right in front of me.

“Open it,” he said quietly.