Chapter 15

Valerie’s pov.

Dinner at Grandpa's always lifted my spirits, creating a temporary bubble where the outside world faded away.

After finishing my meal, I retreated to my room and connected with Nicole and Sheila for our long-awaited girl's night out. We had been planning it for ages, selecting clubs and everything, but the date was never set. Tonight, I took the plunge and asked them spontaneously. Luckily, everyone was available.

Swiftly showering and getting ready, I made sure my lipstick was perfect, wary of the media's tendency to twist even the tiniest smudge into a scandal or conspiracy theory.

Clutch in hand, phone in my pocket, I descended the stairs and passed through the living room where my parents sat.

"Where are you off to?" my father inquired, lifting his hand from my mother's lap, and my mom bookmarked her book.

"I'm going out with some friends," I replied, stealing a glance at the pair of heels I had chosen.

"What friends?" he scoffed.

"Sheila and Nicole," I mumbled, deciding to stick with the lovely heels I had originally picked. They deserved to be showcased.

"To where? A club?"

"Yes, actually, a club." I rolled my eyes, feeling transported back to my imagined teenage years, even though mine had been far from typical.

"But you can't go," Mom finally spoke up, and I raised an eyebrow at them both.

"What do you mean?"

"It's too dangerous, Valerie," she cautioned as if it were my first time venturing out. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first such conversation where they attempted to persuade me to stay home or inundate me with check-in messages.

"I'm a grown woman. I'll go out if I want to. You found me as a grown woman, not some teenager, okay?" I explained, narrowing my eyes at them. My words likely stung, though that hadn't been my intention. They failed to understand that I could take care of myself.

"Why are you fighting us on this? We only want to protect you," Dad groaned, exasperated.

"Might as well lock me up in a basement if you want to keep danger at bay." I threw my hands up in frustration, ready to walk away from their overbearing concerns.

"Valerie, please just take the guards then," Dad pleaded, and I turned around, hands on my hips, the heels slightly digging into my skin.

"I don't need a babysitter," I reminded him.

"They're not there to babysit you. They're there to keep the creeps away. Remember what happened when you tried to get coffee yesterday?" Dad brought up, and a shiver ran down my spine at the memory. Some random man kept following me after I left the coffee shop and his intentions were unclear. "That was just the beginning," he added, and reluctantly, I agreed to his foolish terms.

"Fine, where are they?" I relented.

"Right outside," he replied, and I realized that the guards had been arranged for me, whether I wanted them or not.

"Wow," I scoffed, shaking my head.

"Honey, please understand, we're only doing this to protect you," Mom reasoned, but I chose to ignore her.

"You act as if I can get kidnapped twice," I rolled my eyes, heading towards the door and discarding my heels on the floor to slip them on.

"Valerie..." Dad's voice trailed off as Caspian appeared, dressed to impress.

"Will you be driving yourself?"

"No, I plan on having a few drinks," I pointed out, hoping that Mildred, my favorite driver, was available. He loved pop music and always had intriguing stories to share.

"Can I drop you off then? I have a surprise planned for you," Caspian said, fastening his watch.

"Cas... What have you done?" I sighed. This man was always up to no good.

"You were worried Oliver might rush the wedding, right? Well, I tipped off TZM Magazine that you'll be at the club. They'll come running with questions about the wedding. Make sure to push the date far into the future and show excitement, okay?" Caspian revealed, and a mischievous grin spread across my face. Why hadn't I thought of this myself?

As planned, Caspian drove me to Moonlight Lounge, and to no surprise, Liana Banks, TZM Magazine's favorite reporter, awaited us with the most insincere smile I had ever seen. I wondered if she actually enjoyed chasing gossip or if the paycheck was the only motivation.

Liana asked me all the questions I needed to deflect any pressure Oliver might put on me to rush into marriage. It felt incredible to taunt him through text. Now, I sat with my girls in a cozy private booth—a new experience for me. I had never thought I would be the type of girl to prefer a private booth, but here I was, seeking the privacy that had been taken away from me.

I left to get some drinks since our table attendant was busy, not wanting to be rude. Balancing two Tequila Sunrises and a Midori Sour, I squeezed my way through the crowd, making my way back to our private table.

"You're that billionaire's granddaughter, aren't you?" A strange guy in his mid-twenties approached with his friends. "Damn, you're so hot," another guy said, eyeing my exposed thighs as he moved closer.

"There's a hotel across the street. I'm sure a girl like you would be up for some real fun," one of them remarked, winking at me.

I would have brushed it off, but then he had to open his big mouth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"Feisty. I like it when they fight back," the first guy chuckled, getting closer.

"Of course you do. No one would willingly want to be with you," I retorted, dodging his touch.

"You b—"

"I suggest you take a step back, and another one for safety, so I won't change my mind." Oliver appeared out of nowhere. The three guys were shorter and less muscular than Oliver, but it was his wealth that seemed to intimidate them more because they obviously knew who he was.

"What are you doing here?" I frowned, not giving him a chance to respond as I quickly walked away to our private table.

"I still can't believe you were hooking up with her boss," Sheila said, reaching for her overly green drink.

"I'm not... don't say it like that," I stammered, almost slipping.

"No, she's right. Let's finally talk about it. You were involved with my boss!" Nicole chimed in cheerfully, taking sips from her drink. She was clearly a bit tipsy, and it was amusing to see them like this. "Although, I have to give you credit. You were great at keeping things professional. You never showed any signs of a relationship," Nicole continued, then added, "Oliver, on the other hand, stole a few glances here and there."

I chuckled, about to respond when we were interrupted by a deep voice. "No, I didn't."

"Jesus, what the heck! Give a girl a warning!" Sheila narrowed her eyes at Oliver, while Nicole fell silent, her expression blank.

"She's tipsy, and what are you doing here?" I explained, pulling him aside to a corner of the private area.

"Why are your bodyguards so useless? Where were they to protect you?" Oliver glared at the two men near the entrance.

"They're around here," I pointed out.

"They're not doing their damn job," he muttered loud enough for them to hear, giving them an icy glare. Goodness, did he ever treat people with respect?

"Listen, buddy, you shouldn't be here. It's my girls' night out," I whispered into his ear, playing with the lapel of his dress shirt.

"I'm here to make sure you don't embarrass us. Those two are already drunk, and you almost started a fight while sober, so I fear what you'll do under the influence," Oliver calmly stated, patting my back before heading towards the seats.

"You are not staying," I protested, but it seemed like nobody was listening. Oliver sat far away from us, but after Nicole finished her drink, she made some lame excuse about being tired and left—probably because her boss was sitting there. Sheila also left, always thinking Oliver was an asshole and feeling uncomfortable with just the three of us.

"You ruined my night out, jerk," I glared at Oliver, plopping down next to him.

"What's so special about it? Want to drink and chat about boys? Do it with me; I'll entertain you," Oliver teased, tracing his finger along the rim of his whiskey glass. It was meant to be a joke, but somehow we started drinking and chatting. I couldn't even remember what we were arguing about. Must've been bickering, since we kept going back and forth, each claiming to be right.

"Trust me, angel, I will win this," Oliver said, leaning closer, his hand caressing my face. I inhaled deeply as his warm hand spread a comforting sensation across my cheek. I leaned in, captivated by his intoxicating scent that overwhelmed me in the most delightful way. His thumb strayed to my lips, causing them to part as his touch grazed over them.

I studied his green eyes for a moment, but his gaze remained fixated on my lips. In the heat of the moment, I held onto his biceps and pulled him closer until our lips met. The taste of whiskey lingered on my tongue as we kissed.

Oliver drew me even nearer, his other hand entwining in my hair as he guided our kiss. He hummed against my lips as if savoring the experience. Despite my drunken state, I knew deep down that this kiss was something special.

His soft hums as his lips moved against mine, gently caresses of his tongue poking through and it wasn’t like he was intruding, it felt as if he belonged here with me with his large warm hands on my body and mine tugging at his hair and gripping his biceps so tightly. His kisses made me feel something I hadn’t felt in years—pure lustful desire.