Bad Boy Biker
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“I’ll be right out.”
Alone in the bathroom, she stared at her reflection, flushed cheeks and bright eyes looking back at her. For the first time in weeks—maybe years—she recognized herself. Not Valentina Porter, society wife. Not even Valentine Ross, the girl who’d run away.
Someone new. Someone who had fallen and gotten back up. Someone who was learning to ride her own path, despite the fear.
She smiled at her reflection, and to her surprise, let out a small laugh—the first real one in longer than she could remember.