VALERIE'S POV
People had always expected perfection from me, and I had never disappointed them—not once.
The moment I stepped out of the car, I felt the shift in the air.
Heads turned and mouths parted.
Someone actually gasped and I didn't even have to try.
I simply existed, and the spotlight obeyed me.
That was the power of being Valerie Cross and that was the power of knowing exactly who I was.
The cameras went wild, flashing without rhythm as I made my way toward the carpet. "Valerie! Valerie! Over here!"
I moved with practiced ease, not posing too long, not smiling too wide.
Always in control and lways just out of reach.
Another microphone appeared in front of me, but I was still smiling.
I knew the drill.
"Miss Cross, is it true your relationship with the Harrington family has… evolved? Particularly your relationship with Alexander?"
There it was.
The question everyone wanted to hear answered.
I let out a soft, confident laugh. Nothing overdone. "Evolved is an interesting choice of word," I said smoothly. "But yes, Alexander and I are… very happy."
The reporters lit up like I had just handed them a headline dipped in gold.
I didn't flinch and neither did I explain anything to them.
I didn't need to.
I let them think what they wanted.
The narrative was mine.
Inside the gala, I glided past clusters of people.
A few socialites waved at me, and I responded with gentle smiles, exchanging brief compliments. "You look stunning tonight, Val." "That dress is perfection." "You always outdo yourself."
Of course I did.
But none of their voices registered for more than a second because I was focused.
I was waiting for his entrance, the moment Alexander finally stepped into view.
I knew his timing, his patterns, the way he appeared when crowds least expected him.
I felt the shift before I even turned and then I saw him.
Alexander Harrington.
Effortlessly commanding with hands in his pockets.
He was the type of man who didn't need to demand attention.
I felt my heart give that familiar, foolish kick.
But then I saw her, the girl beside him, that same little mess from earlier, the plain one.
Of all the possibilities… she was the last person I expected at his side.
My smile tightened.
She walked too closely and tried too hard to blend in.
Her dress looked like it came from the reject section of a bargain store.
Her hair was slightly uneven, like she had gotten ready in a rush.
But somehow—somehow for some reason—he let her stay at his side.
I watched them move together.
It was subtle, but I saw it. He didn't guide her with a hand on her back; he didn't even look at her often. But there was an ease between them that shouldn't exist. My pulse began to tick with annoyance.
Why her?
Why that night?
And why did he walk right past me?
For the first time in years, Alexander didn't acknowledge me.
He didn't pause, didn't offer a polite nod for the camera, didn't even shift his eyes in my direction.
He just… passed me.
With her.
The humiliation punched straight into my chest.
Heat rose under my skin, threatening to break through my calm expression, but I swallowed it down and straightened.
Fine. If he wanted to pretend I was invisible, I could play along—for now.
I kept my posture elegant, even as my mind reeled.
Around me, more people arrived, greeting me warmly, but I barely heard their voices.
My focus never left Alexander and the girl.
A few socialites drifted closer, curious.
"Who's that with him?" one whispered to me.
"No idea," another said. "She looks so… ordinary."
"Maybe she's a new client assistant?"
"That close? Never."
I shrugged lightly, masking my irritation with a practiced air of disinterest. "Probably someone trying too hard," I said, my tone smooth. "It happens."
The women laughed.
They didn't need to know how much the sight bothered me.
But it did.
It bothered me so deeply I could hardly think about anything else.
Throughout the evening, I kept watching them.
She fidgeted with the hem of her dress.
She looked at the crowd like she was drowning.
She tried to stay behind him, but he occasionally said something and she stepped closer, almost like… like she belonged there.
And that was unacceptable.
Someone like her should have frozen under the weight of this room, she should have been overwhelmed, trembling, speechless.
But she wasn't.
She was steadying herself, breathing deep, muttering something under her breath that looked like reassurance.
Strong-willed.
Stupid, but strong-willed.
I narrowed my eyes.
When she excused herself and headed toward the hallway, something inside me clicked.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe it was irritation.
Maybe it was the simple desire to remind her who truly belonged near Alexander.
I moved without hesitation.
My heels didn't make noise on the marble floor. I had mastered the art of walking like a queen—silent, graceful, untouchable.
But two socialites came up for a quick 'chat'.
"Val, darling, you're leaving already?"
"No," I said, smiling politely. "Just handling something."
They nodded, curiosity piqued, but I didn't slow down for anyone.
The hallway was quiet enough for me to hear her faint footsteps.
She turned into the bathroom, and the door swung shut behind her.
I waited a few seconds, ensuring nobody was close enough to follow me.
Then I entered.
The door closed with a soft click, and I instantly saw her in front of the mirror.
She was adjusting the strap of her dress, breathing slowly as though she was recovering from the weight of it all.
Her reflection caught mine, and she jumped slightly.
Good.
"Did you follow me in here?" she asked, her voice steady, not timid.
Interesting.
Seems the gold digger wasn't as fragile as she looked.
I stepped forward, offering a calm, cool smile. "Why wouldn't I?"
Her brows knit. "If you have something to say, say it."
So she had a spine.
Fine.
I circled around her slowly, taking in the details of her appearance. "You're very brave," I murmured. "Walking beside him like you belong here."
"I'm not here for you," she shot back. "And I don't owe you an explanation."
The audacity.
I almost laughed.
"You owe me more than you realize," I said. "You drew attention to yourself tonight. Attention you're not equipped to handle."
"I handled it just fine."
"No," I corrected her coldly, looking at her like what she was… the scum of the earth. A worthless nobody who was supposed to be under my foot. "You didn't."
Her jaw tightened.
She didn't step back, not even when I moved close enough for her to feel the tension in the air.
"Whatever you think this is," she said, lifting her chin, "you're wrong."
"Am I?" I asked, tapping a finger lightly against the marble counter. "Alexander brings no one here. No one walks beside him. Not unless there's a reason."
Her expression flickered as something like realization passed through.
"He's my boss," she said firmly. "That's it."
"Is it?" I leaned in slightly. "Because he didn't even look at me tonight. He walked right past me. That only happens if something… changed."
"It has nothing to do with me."
"You're the only new element," I reminded her. "So it has everything to do with you."
Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, but her gaze didn't drop. "Whatever you're trying to do, it won't work."
"And whatever you're trying to pretend doesn't exist?" I countered. "It won't vanish because you deny it."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
I took another step closer.
She didn't move.
The tension snapped tight around us, almost buzzing.
She wasn't weak—not even close.
She didn't know what this world was like. She didn't know what someone like me could do.
"We're going to have a conversation," I told her, letting my voice drop.
"About what?"
I smiled.
"About Alexander."