Chapter 48 Chapter 48

Chapter 48 Chapter 48
Valentina

Lucien and I have mastered the art of pretending. We move around each other like strangers now. Polite. Distant.

At breakfast, he doesn't hold my gaze. He reads the paper or checks his phone. If I enter a room, he finds a reason to leave. He doesn't come home early anymore. Some nights I don't see him at all.

And I hate that I notice. I hate that I count the seconds between his steps in the hallway. I hate that I know exactly when he avoids looking at me.

But what truly lodged itself beneath my skin was this morning. I walked into the kitchen and found Mira standing too close to him. She was trying to reach something he was holding above her head teasing, playful and they were both laughing.

The sound echoed in my head long after I left. I told myself it meant nothing. That they were cousin and Lucien doesn't have feelings for her. That I was being irrational.

But the jealousy still burned. I wasn't supposed to feel that way. I was the one who asked for distance. I was the one who insisted we cool things off before Ambrose started connecting dots.

So why did it feel like I was the only one suffering for it? Would he have preferred we risk everything? Would he have allowed Ambrose to notice? Why can't he understand that I was trying to protect us?

And then the worst thought crept in. What if this isn't equal? What if I am the only one in love? I was the one who said it first.

He never did. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and exhaled slowly.

Tonight was the annual family event Ambrose hosts. A grand display of power disguised as elegance. Business tycoons. Politicians. Investors. Smiles layered over corruption.

I found out about it from Ronan. Strangely, Ronan has become my only easy company in this house lately. He talks freely. Laughs freely. Doesn't look at me like I'm a chess piece.

Everyone will be there tonight. Including my father. Ambrose personally invited him. That alone makes my nervous.

For the first time, my sisters are allowed to attend. Violeta and Viviana at an event like this. It almost sounds like a joke.

Unless it isn't. Unless my father is planning something. At least I won't be completely alone.

I adjusted the earrings on my ears and reached for my phone, texting Violeta.

Me: Are you guys on your way?

She replied almost instantly.

Violeta: Already halfway there. If this event is boring, I'm stealing something expensive.

I smiled. Ambrose had left early to oversee arrangements. I was to arrive later with the driver.

I smoothed my dress over my hips and looked at myself one more time.

Composed. Elegant..

No one would see the chaos underneath.

And Lucien? He would be there too. Across crowded rooms. Across polite conversations. Across carefully maintained distance.

I don't know what hurts more. The danger of being caught... Or the possibility that I am the only one still burning. I picked up my clutch and walked out.

The staircase echoed under my heels. The house was quite. I must be the only one left to leave. Only the maids who were left to watch over the house and 

And the guards were in their usual positions along the stone steps. Watching. Waiting. As if they owned the estate more than any of us did.

I stepped through the front doors and inhaled the cool evening air. And then I caught sight of Ronan.

He was just about to enter his car across when he paused, spotting me. His brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Mrs. Ambrose," he called casually. "You haven't left yet?"

I forced a smile. I hated that title.

Hated how easily he used it. As if it were harmless. As if it didn't carry weight. Implication.

"Yes," I replied smoothly. "I'm leaving now. The driver is taking me."

Ronan glanced behind him, scanning the driveway.

"I think that's the same driver who took Mira earlier."

Mira didn't go with Lucien? Relief slid through me. At least she didn't go with him.

I kept my face composed.

"Oh?" I said lightly.

Ronan turned back to me. "Since I'm heading there anyway, come with me."

"That's not necessary," I began quickly. "Really, you don't have to—"

He frowned, mock offense lining his features. "Come on. You're my mother. Let me pretend I'm a decent son for once."

The word. Mother. A role neither of us respected.

I hesitated for only a second before nodding. He walked around and opened the passenger door for me.

Before stepping in, I looked at him. "Thank you," I said quietly. "And please... call me Valentina."

For a moment, something flickered in his expression.

"Alright," he replied. "Valentina."

I slid into the seat. The door shut with a soft, final sound.
—

The drive was silent. The estate gates opened, and the car rolled onto the main road. Streetlights streaked across the windshield in slow intervals. My fingers tightened around my clutch.

Ronan drove with one hand on the wheel, relaxed.

Too relaxed.After several minutes, he spoke.

"I thought you Lucien would be going together."

My head snapped toward him. Why is he bringing Lucien up? My pulse spiked.

"I don't see how that concerns me," I said carefully.

Ronan's jaw tightened slightly. His gaze stayed on the road.

"I didn't want to say this," he continued. "But I know what's going on between you and Lucien."

The words hit me like cold water. A sharp, suffocating chill.

Mira noticed. Ambrose is suspicious. That was why I pulled away. That was why I told Lucien we needed distance.

And now Ronan? My fingers dug into the edge of my clutch.

I forced a soft laugh. "You're imagining things."

He finally glanced at me.

"No, I'm not."

The certainty in his voice terrified me more than accusation would have.

My mind raced. Did he see something? I swallowed.

"What exactly do you think you know?" I asked evenly.

Ronan exhaled through his nose.

"Enough to tell you how dangerous it is."

My throat tightened. We've been careful. We have been so careful.

"That's ridiculous," I whispered.

"Is it?"

Silence filled the car again heavier now.

"I'm not judging you. Even though you're married to father," Ronan added, surprisingly calm. "I'm just telling you to be careful."

My stomach twisted. "Father isn't blind. The rest definitely aren't. And if I can see it..." He let the rest hang in the air.

If I can see it, everyone will. My chest felt tight.

"That's why we stopped," I said before I could stop myself.

The confession slipped out too fast. Ronan's eyes flickered.

"Stopped?" he repeated.

I pressed my lips together. Too late.

"Yes," I said quietly. "We stopped."

The word felt like glass in my mouth. He studied me for a long moment before speaking again.

"You think distance hides fire?" he asked. "It doesn't. It makes it brighter."

I turned to face the window. City lights blurred past.

"You don't understand," I murmured.

"No," he said. "I understand perfectly."

The car slowed at a red light.

"And that's why I'm telling you this now," Ronan continued. "If you're going to do something dangerous... at least make sure it's worth it."

My heart pounded. Dangerous. That's what we are. The light turned green after a while. 

He drove on.

"And Valentina?" he added softly.

I didn't look at him.

"Yes?"

"If you think you're the only one burning... you're wrong."

My breath hitched. What does that mean? But I didn't ask. And that possibility? It scares me more than being caught.



The venue was impossible to miss. Light spilled from the towering glass structure like it was trying to outshine the city itself. Valets moved swiftly. Luxury cars lined the entrance polished black, silver, deep midnight blue. The kind of cars that didn't just whisper money.

Ronan handed the keys to an attendant and stepped around to my side. Cameras flashed somewhere near the entrance. Laughter. Low conversations. The scent of expensive perfume and sharper ambition filled the air.

"This is where the wolves gather," Ronan muttered lightly.

I didn't answer. We stepped inside.

Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling so high it almost disappeared into shadow. Gold accents lined the walls. Marble floors reflected the light like glass. A string quartet played near the center, their music smooth and deliberate.

Everywhere I looked wealth. Men in tailored suits that probably cost more than some people's houses. Women draped in silk, diamonds resting effortlessly against their throats. Politicians laughing too loudly. Investors shaking hands too firmly.

Power disguised as elegance. Ambrose's specialty.

And then my eyes found him. Lucien. It was almost instinct now.

He stood near one of the marble pillars, glass in hand, posture relaxed but alert. And beside him Mira.

She was saying something, smiling up at him.

And he he was listening.

Ronan's words echoed in my mind.

If you think you're the only one burning... you're wrong.

"Damn. You're finally here, Val."

Violeta's voice cut through everything. I blinked and turned just in time to be pulled into a hug. She smelled like jasmine and rebellion.

"You look like a villain's wife," she whispered approvingly as she pulled back. "I love it."

Despite everything, I smiled.

"You look like trouble," I replied.

"Always."

Her eyes shifted past me.

"And who is this?"

Ronan stepped slightly forward, raising a brow.

"Oh, sorry. Basic manners first. Why are you staring at me like that?"

Violeta tilted her head slowly, examining him without shame.

"I'm deciding if you look trustworthy," she said bluntly.

Ronan scoffed. "And?"

"The jury is still out."

I exhaled. "Sorry for her manners," I cut in smoothly. "This is my sister, Violeta."

I gestured toward Ronan.

"And Violeta, this is Ronan. Ambrose's son."

There was a beat of silence. Instead of softening, Violeta looked at him even harder.

Up and down. Unapologetic.

Ronan blinked. "Valentina," he said dryly, "this your sister has no manners. She's so annoying."

Violeta gasped theatrically. "Excuse me? You started it."

"I did not."

"You literally did."

"You were staring at me like I committed a crime."

"Maybe you did."

"I just got here!"

"You look guilty."

I closed my eyes briefly. Unbelievable.

Around us, important people were discussing mergers and political leverage and my sister was arguing like we were at a street market. 

"Excuse me," I said quickly. "Let me go greet the others."

I grabbed Violeta's wrist before she could respond.

"Hey—" she protested.

"You're coming with me," I murmured under my breath.

I gave Ronan an apologetic look. He smirked.

"I'll survive," he said.

I dragged Violeta a few steps away, lowering my voice.

"You cannot fight Ambrose's son at his own event."

"I wasn't fighting," she argued. "I was assessing."

"Assess quietly."

She rolled her eyes but allowed me to pull her further into the crowd.

As we moved, I made the mistake of glancing back. Lucien was no longer looking at Mira. He was looking at me. And even across the room, even through layers of people and distance and careful pretending, I felt it. That fire Ronan talked about.