Chapter 53 Broken Promises
Valenticia's POV~
The Seryne gala gleamed like a jewel box, chandeliers throwing golden light over silk gowns and sharp tuxedos, but the air was charged with venom. My silver dress hugged me, its sparkle a shield, Rosanna’s green hairpin pulling the weight at my skull. The news flash — “Valenticia Clawford, Galden’s lab rat? —had caught fire in the crowd, and reporters descended like wolves. One loomed over me, stuck a mic in my face, and his voice bit: “Miss Clawford, were you one of the test subjects back in ˜99?” My heart thundered, but I straightened my back.
“Galden’s lies—forged memos, fake videos—can’t blur Clawford’s truth. My past is my own, and I will lay it bare, a bit at a time. Watch me rise.” The crowd had gone silent and then erupted with applause, a roar like a wave. Lena, my assistant, whispered, “You’re a force, Miss Clawford. “They can’t even talk,” Tim, the intern, added, wide-eyed. I saw Larson’s nervous look at me from across the room, his boardroom betrayal an afterimage, and I poked my eyes right through him — steel in my veins.
Stefan was at my side, his hand warm at my back, his navy suit crisp. “You’re a queen, Valenticia,” he murmured, pride in his eyes sending heat to swell in my chest. “They can’t touch you.” I huddled closer to him, embracing his warmth. “Just because you’re my shield,” I murmured, our chemistry a beat in the chaos. And the reporters backed away, cowed, but the scrutiny burned, my past a wound they’d prodded. I needed air, needed him. “Let’s go,” I said, my voice low. He nodded, about to say something, but pulled us out through a side entrance instead, Seryne’s neon skyline disappearing as we rode back to his penthouse.
The rooftop garden was starlit, jasmine in blooms, fairy lights twinkling like hope. The host, Stefan, offered me a glass of Pinot Noir — his sweater a gentle one, his smile teasing. “To my unsinkable heiress,” he said, clicking my glass. I laughed, the sound loose, tension releasing. “Flatterer,” I replied, taking a sip, the wine warm. We sank onto a padded bench, the drone of the city far away, and there he turned serious, voice raw. “My mother — she’s passed, when I was 16, cancer. Her struggle powered New Dream, and gave me a reason to be.” His openness caught me, his eyes probing into mine. I put my glass down, my voice quiet. “I’m terrified, Stefan—what if I was their experiment? Agnes, my foster grandmother, her lullabies… they’re all I have, and now this!” My throat closed up, fear flooding in.
He clasped my hand, his thumb rubbing the knuckles. “You’re not part of their game, Valenticia. You’re Clawford’s heart. We will get to the truth, together.” His statement was a promise, and I leaned in, a kiss imminent, and my lips parting. But fear made me stuck, shadowed by the specter of a past version of myself, and I retreated, blushing. He grinned, teasing. “You can’t deny me forever, heiress.” I swatted his arm, laughing. “Watch me try, Myles.”
Elaine stormed in, her auburn hair wild, her laptop under her arm. “Got something,” she said sitting on the glass table, her screen filled with hacked files glowing. “Marrow’s clinic log—Subject V, Valerici Valenticia Clawford, dosed with a serum in ’99.” A grainy video rolled: me as a child, in a cold room, machines buzzing. Gregor's voice, thin but clear; “She won't remember.” The memory of that room intensified, anger pulsing through me — his voice, his betrayal, an anchor on my past. “He is the one that did this,” I growled, pressing my fists to my sides. “Gregor stole my memories.” Elaine’s eyes blazed. “He’s rallying Galden at the summit in the morning. “We should find Marrow, heard he’s in Seryne.” Stefan took my hand, his rage matching my own. “We’re going to challenge him, but we’ve got to have more,” he said, his voice steady. I nodded, and pledged, “I’ll track down Gregor—make him answer for this.”
I felt my phone buzz — it was Rosanna, her voice urgent. “Valenticia, Gregor will be at the summit tomorrow meeting with Galden allies. He wants your spot, child.” My heart raced, dread snaking through me. “What else, Grandmother?” I asked, voice trembling. She sighed, heavily. “The Lovtan letter— it mentioned you, Subject V. Be careful. I frowned, confused. “Subject V? What does it mean?” She paused, voice soft. “Your history, child—Galden’s mark on you. Fight for your truth.” Saying nothing else, she the call cut off.
Stefan wrapped himself around me, his arms a fortress, whispering in my ear, “We’ll stop this, together.” I nodded, reassured by the steadiness of his heart but I was still scared—Gregor's plan, the memories I was missing, a truth I might not live through. I’d have stayed in the garden and plotted, Elaine’s files a road map to Marrow. The stars were bright overhead and so was my purpose, but still, I doubted: was I strong enough?
I stood on the penthouse balcony looking out over the waking city, lights daring-beckoning. I gripped the jade hairpin, my glass reflection a warrior, not a victim. My phone pinged: a text, from a number I didn’t know: Seryne summit, tomorrow. The truth was near. —M. I held my breath —Dr. Marrow? My heart raced, suspicions flaring. Stefan came up and joined me, his sweater warm, as if he could feel my discomfort. “What is it?” he asked, eyes searching. I cited the text to him in hushed tones. “It’s beginning, Stefan—the truth’s beginning to come out.” He nodded, his hand slipping into mine, our grip just as good as his word. I clasped his hand, ready to meet Gregor, and Marrow and face my past.