Chapter 2: Cheap Wine, Heavy Secrets
The bitter scent of red wine lingered in the air, mixing with the warm notes of vanilla candles scattered across the room. Valerie sat curled on the edge of a plush velvet couch, barefoot and silent, watching the city lights blur through the windowpane like distant stars.
Outside, the world spun on as if hers wasn't falling apart.
The wine glass trembled slightly in her hand, not from fear—but from exhaustion.
From pretending.
"You're not seriously going through with this," Tina's voice broke through the silence like a stone dropped in still water.
Valerie turned slightly, her silk robe slipping off one shoulder. Her eyes met Tina's—not angry, not offended. Just tired.
"I said yes," she replied, voice calm, cool, controlled.
Tina crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. "To Sophia? To your father? Val, this isn't just dinner or smiling for a contract negotiation. They want you to sleep with that director. That sleazy old man from Albanian Group—Mr. Han, or whatever his name is."
Valerie let out a quiet breath. "I know."
"And you're okay with that?"
Valerie sipped her wine. "No. That's why I'm not doing it their way."
Tina blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Then...?"
"I'm going to the hotel. But not to see Mr. Han. I'll pick someone else. Someone I choose. Someone who doesn't know my name, or my shame. Just... a stranger. One night."
Tina's mouth dropped open. "You're talking about giving away your virginity like it's some experiment?"
Valerie didn't blink. "Not an experiment. A choice."
She rose from the couch, walking barefoot across the rug as her robe swayed gently around her ankles. The apartment was dimly lit, but even in the shadows, Valerie moved with quiet elegance—graceful, almost hauntingly so.
"Everyone thinks they own me," she said, fingers grazing a framed painting on the wall—one of her own, signed only with a symbol the public still hadn't deciphered. "They see a delicate, helpless girl. A pretty face without direction. A burden."
Tina shook her head, walking in. "But you're none of those things."
"I know." Valerie smiled faintly. "But they don't."
She passed the window, trailing her fingers across the glass as if trying to touch the glowing city outside.
"If I wanted to, I could crash the industry in a day. I could unveil my identity and send every auction house scrambling. I could expose myself as The Healer, the one they all beg for. The designer behind limited edition lines they wear like holy relics. The artist who signs in silence."
"Then why don't you?" Tina asked, frustrated.
Valerie turned to her, eyes dark with emotion. "Because I'm not ready to be seen."
Silence stretched between them again.
"You don't need this deal," Tina said more softly. "You don't need them. Or their dirty money."
Valerie walked to the wine bottle and poured herself the last glass. "It's not about money. Or deals. Or power."
She lifted her chin. "I want to know what it feels like to be a woman."
Tina blinked. "What?"
"I've spent my entire life being useful. Quiet. Efficient. Smart. I've been a solution to everyone's problems—healing them, dressing them, saving their skin, hiding my brilliance so they could shine brighter." Her voice cracked. "But no one has ever seen me. No one has ever touched me and made me feel like I matter—not as a product. Not as a tool. As a woman."
Tina looked down, her heart sinking.
"I want to choose," Valerie whispered. "If I'm going to give this part of myself away… I want it to be mine. Not a transaction. Not an obligation. Not a manipulation orchestrated by my stepsister."
She wiped at her cheek, though no tears had fallen. "I want my first time to be something I own. Even if it's with a stranger I never see again."
Tina swallowed. "So you'll pick a man tonight. Randomly."
Valerie nodded.
"And what if it goes wrong?"
"It might," Valerie said. "But I've faced worse things than regret."
She drained the wine and set the glass down gently. "Tonight, I'm not Valerie. I'm not the powerless stepdaughter, or the quiet ghost behind billion-dollar designs. I'm a woman… deciding for herself."
Tina studied her for a long moment, then reached out and squeezed her hand. "Just be careful."
"I always am."
As the clock struck midnight, Valerie stepped into the walk-in closet and reemerged a vision.
She didn't wear a dress she bought—she wore one she designed. A flowing crimson silk creation that kissed her curves and swept along her skin like water. The neckline dipped just enough to tease, the back low enough to tempt.
She adorned herself with handcrafted jewelry—sapphire earrings that shimmered like tears, a silver cuff with an invisible signature, and a delicate chain belt around her waist.
Her hair fell in soft waves down her back. Her lips were painted blood-red. Her heels were stilettos—dangerous and silent.
She looked in the mirror one last time.
Not Valerie.
Not the Healer.
Not the ghost hiding in other people's shadows.
Just a woman.
A woman ready to feel something for herself.
---
Later That Night – The Albanian Grand Hotel
The lobby gleamed with gold and marble, the chandeliers dripping like frozen fire from the ceiling. Valerie entered with her head held high, her steps sure and silent. Her reservation was made under a false name, the card untraceable, the room paid in cash.
She walked past the concierge, past the private elevator for VIPs, and slipped into the lounge bar—dimly lit, seductive, buzzing with low music and quiet laughter.
Men looked up.
Some with interest.
Some with hunger.
But none saw her.
That's how she wanted it.
She ordered a drink. Sat alone. Let the moment breathe around her.
And then...
A man brushed past her table. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Elegant in a dark suit, with an air of unapproachable power. His cologne hit her before anything else—dark amber, sandalwood, and something smoky. Masculine. Addictive.
She glanced up.
Just for a moment.
He met her gaze.
And the world paused.
Not because she recognized him.
But because her body did.
A shiver ran through her—not fear, not hesitation.
Something else.
He didn't speak. Just held her eyes for a second too long before giving her the smallest nod and continuing toward the elevators.
Valerie swallowed.
Her heart was pounding.
She didn't know his name. His story.
But something in her said—follow.
And she said.