Chapter 41 Endless Promises
Valenticias POV~
The auction’s incident stuck to me like wet silk, the tax fraud gossip was still a fresh wound.
I’d turned to face the crowd, my silver gown a shield, my donation to “truth” a defiant jab. When I listened to the leaked audio for the first time? My voice, twisted, admitting to a bribe, my stomach had dropped and fear had formed in my throat. Seryne’s upper crust had muttered, their pity, their disdain, a riot, and I’d run from the gala with my heart bruised, and aching severely. I stepped out into the cool night, and my phone buzzed with a text from Stefan: Come to the penthouse. Just us. Let’s meet. And I replied, On my way, my nerve calming at the thought of him.
The elevator to Stefan’s Seryne penthouse hummed, and I looked at myself in its mirrored walls, a woman drained but free. I’d changed out of my gown into a plain silk dress: emerald green, soft silk that protested the chaos of the day. The doors swung wide, and I stepped into a rooftop garden, overgrown with jasmine and fairy lights twinkling like stars. My breath caught—a sanctuary. Stefan leaned against an iron table, not dressed in his usual tailored suit but in a boyfriend cozy navy sweater, jeans fitting perhaps properly, and a disarmingly wicked smile. “You survived,” he said, handing over a glass of Pinot Noir, his voice warm. I blinked, surprised at his casualness, the sweater softening his corners, rendering him unbearably human. “You seem… different,” I said, a shy smile curving my lips as I accepted the wine.
We took our places at a candlelit dinner that included a grilled salmon dinner with lemon risotto and a subdued chocolate torte — a richness managed to convey a low-key luxury. The jasmine intertwined with the smell of food, and I sighed, feeling Stefan beside me like an anchor I wanted to hold on to. He lurched forward, his eyes crinkling. “My first New Dream deal, I was well, you could say clumsy,” he said, laughing. “Spilled coffee on the client’s contract, stumbled through my pitch. Thought I’d ace it.” His vulnerability sounded fun. A clear reflection of my heiress nerves, and I laughed, the sound coming out strained, and strange even to me, after days of dread.
“You? Clumsy? Teasing" I said laughing, taking a drink of wine and the warmth spread.
His eyes softened, gazing me on. I paused, and then I loosened, my voice gentle. “My foster grandmother, Agnes, used to sing lullabies — old Wyllbron folk tunes, her voice was creaky, yet warm. She’d braid my hair, call me her star.” My chest hurt, the recollection so vivid. “I miss her. She passed away at ten four ago, and… I haven’t heard a song that anyone’s sung to me since then.” Stefan’s fingers scraped against mine, brushing against the back of my hand and fire coursed up to my cheeks. “She’d be proud of you,” he said, his sincerity making me melt. Our laughter came easily, effortlessly, the weight of the world lifting.
There was no music and after dinner, with mischief in his eyes, Stefan turned on a portable speaker and soft jazz spilled out into the cool night. “Dance with me,” he said, tipping me slightly as he stood me up, his hand solid against my waist. I laughed, taken by surprise, and we danced under the stars. In time, I laid my head on his chest, his heart pulsing, his body heat surrounding me. “You are my strength Valenticia,” he murmured, his breath kissing my ear. I looked up at him, my fingers sliding across his jaw, brave but shaking. “And you’re my home,” I whispered, our laughter dissolving into a complete silence, as the jazz thrummed to its heartbeat.
We sat on a cushioned bench, the city’s glow far away. I slipped my hand into my clutch and removed a small velvet box, my heart pounding. “For you,” I said, giving him a silver cufflink inscribed with S&V. “Because we’re in this together.” He opened his eyes raised my hand to his lips and kissed them, his lips warm. “I'll always protect you,” he said, his voice gruff with the promise. I flushed, the locket he’d given me pressing on my collarbone.
Stefan rose with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Wait here,” he said, rushing to a jasmine bush to pick a flower with exaggerated care and nearly stumbling into a lantern. I laughed, his awkwardness endearing, and he said in return, sliding the bloom behind my ear, his fingers brushing my skin. “Great,” he said quietly, his eyes holding mine, my heart stuttering again. It should be Elaine, presumably as my phone was vibrating against my hip in my clutch, but I let it, and the world’s chaos, slide.
I gazed, smiling, at Stefan, trying to enjoy each moment as I inhaled the scent of the jasmine and held the warmth of his body in my arms.