19. Ariana

CHAPTER 19

ARIANA

I sit on the edge of my bed, running my fingers through my hair, which falls in soft waves down my back. The moonlight filters through the thin curtains, casting a silver glow over the room. My thoughts are a tangled mess of gratitude, confusion, and frustration.

Valen. His name alone sends a shiver down my spine. I can't ignore everything he's done for me—for my family. The job offer was just the beginning. The opportunity he handed my father... It was life-changing. Yet, it feels like a gilded cage. I owe him so much, but what does he want in return?

I pull the covers over me, hoping the warmth will chase away the cold doubt gnawing at my insides. Valen’s past as a war profiteer isn't something I can just brush off. But then, there's his dedication to restoring Armstrong. He's used his power and resources to breathe life back into this broken planet.

My eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling, each line a reflection of my conflicted heart. I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position. Sleep eludes me, slipping through my grasp like sand.

Why do I keep replaying our moments together? His touch—gentle yet commanding—lingers on my skin. The way his eyes soften when he looks at me, as if I'm more than just another pawn in his grand scheme.

Everyone and everything plays a part in his business plans. And now that includes my own father. So where do I stand? What part do I play in his growing wealth? It has to be something.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push away the doubts and fears. But they only come back stronger. What if I'm just fooling myself? What if he’s manipulating me with his charm and generosity?

No. He’s shown genuine care, hasn't he? Like when he tended to my wound with such tenderness or how he confronts anyone who dares threaten me.

With a frustrated sigh, I sit up again. The room feels too small, too confining for the storm raging inside me.

“Enough,” I whisper to myself, the word cutting through the silence like a blade.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. My feelings for Valen are real; they outweigh the fear that’s been holding me back. He’s enigmatic and dangerous, but there’s more to him than that brooding exterior.

Tomorrow, I'll tell him how I feel. I'll demand answers—clear answers—and face whatever comes next with an open heart.

As this resolution settles over me like a comforting blanket, I finally lay back down and close my eyes. The turmoil inside quiets to a dull hum as sleep begins to claim me.

For now, that’s enough.

Tomorrow will bring clarity—one way or another.

The next day, I stand outside Valen’s study, my heart pounding in my chest. The ornate door feels like a barrier to everything I need to say. I push it open and step inside.

Valen is at his desk, papers scattered around him, but he looks up the moment I enter. His green eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a shiver run down my spine.

“Ariana,” he says, his voice steady and calm. “Is everything alright?”

I nod, but my hands are trembling. “I need to talk to you,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gestures to the chair across from him. “Please, sit.”

I shake my head. Standing feels more appropriate for this conversation. “No, I’d rather stand.”

He leans back in his chair, watching me with that intense gaze of his. “Alright then.”

I take a deep breath and begin. “Valen, I don’t know where to start. This—everything between us—it’s confusing and overwhelming.” My hands clench at my sides as I try to steady myself.

“Take your time,” he says quietly.

“I love you,” I blurt out, the words escaping before I can stop them. “But I’m scared. Terrified, actually.”

His expression doesn’t change, but he leans forward slightly, as if urging me to continue.

“I can’t keep living like this,” I say, my voice trembling. “In constant fear of what you mean to me or what I mean to you. Every gesture, every word—it all feels like it has a hidden meaning or motive.”

He remains silent, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I know you’ve done so much for me and my family,” I continue, the words tumbling out now that the dam has broken. “But sometimes it feels like... like you’re controlling my life. Like every good thing comes with strings attached.”

Valen’s jaw tightens slightly, but he still doesn’t interrupt.

“I don’t want to feel grateful and trapped at the same time,” I say, my voice breaking on the last word. “I need to know what your intentions are—why you’re doing all of this.”

He stands up slowly and walks around the desk until he’s standing in front of me. The air between us crackles with tension.

“I can’t keep second-guessing every moment we share,” I say softly. “I need clarity—honesty—from you.”

Valen reaches out and gently cups my face in his hands. His touch is warm and grounding.

“What do you need to know?” he asks, his voice steady.

“Everything,” I reply. “Is there anything else about your past you haven’t been truthful about? Any enemies that might come for you? Any... crosses with the law that might end with you in jail?”

He lets out a slow breath, his gaze unwavering. “I have many enemies, both in business and politics. But they’re weak. Nothing I have any fear for, and neither should you.”

His words are meant to reassure me, but they only scratch the surface of my doubts. “And your past?” I press, needing more. “Have you told me everything?”

Valen swallows hard, his jaw tightening for a moment before he speaks. “No,” he admits quietly. “I haven’t told you everything.”

I feel a pang of apprehension but nod for him to continue.

“When I was very young,” he begins, his voice taking on a distant quality, “my first business venture was selling candy door to door. I was always a little entrepreneur. Innocent enough, right?”

I nod again, feeling the tension coil tighter inside me.

“One day,” he continues, his eyes darkening with the memory, “I stumbled on a crime syndicate. They saw potential in me and got me into running drugs instead.”

My breath catches at the revelation, but I stay silent, urging him to go on with my eyes.

“I was good at it,” he says bitterly. “Too good. A child can't hide that kind of money for long. My mother found out and tried to intervene.”

He pauses, the weight of his next words hanging heavy in the air between us.

“They killed her,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “The syndicate killed her because she tried to protect me.”

The room seems to shrink around us as the gravity of his confession sinks in. My heart aches for him—for the child he once was and the pain he’s carried all these years.

“My family always blamed me for it,” Valen continues, his voice tight with emotion. “And so did I.”

Tears sting my eyes as I reach up to touch his face gently. “Valen...”

He shakes his head slightly but doesn’t pull away from my touch. “It’s why my father and older brother were terrible to me,” he says, his green eyes filled with anguish. “They saw me as the reason for her death.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my heart breaking for him.

“I’ve spent my life trying to make amends,” he says quietly. “Trying to be better than what they saw in me. But making change takes money, and in order to get enough of it, your hands get dirty.”

I step closer, feeling the need to offer him comfort despite my own turmoil. "You're not that person anymore," I say softly.

He looks down at me with such intensity that it takes my breath away. "I know," he says quietly. "But it doesn't erase what happened."

We stand there in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between us like a dark cloud.

"Thank you," I say finally, my voice trembling with emotion.

"For what?" he asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"For trusting me enough to tell me," I reply simply.

Valen's expression softens slightly as he reaches up to gently brush a tear from my cheek. "You deserve the truth," he says quietly.

"And now?" I ask tentatively.

"Now," Valen replies firmly, "we move forward—together."

I take a deep breath, feeling the reality of the moment pressing down on me. Valen’s hands remain gently cupping my face, his eyes searching mine for something—perhaps assurance that this conversation is the right step forward.

“I promise,” he says, his voice steady and sincere, “to be more transparent from now on. No more secrets between us.”

His words are a balm to my frayed nerves. “And I promise,” I reply, my voice softer but no less earnest, “to always tell you if something is worrying me. No more bottling things up.”

A small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll make quite the team, then.”

I can’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I think we already do.”

Without another word, Valen leans in and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle, tender—so full of love that it makes my heart ache. It’s not like the passionate embraces we’ve shared before; this one is different. It’s a promise in itself, a silent vow of our commitment to each other.

I close my eyes and melt into the kiss, feeling the energy of our vulnerability bonding us together. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us in this intimate moment.

When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his, savoring the closeness.

I feel a sense of lightness I haven’t felt in a long time. The walls of uncertainty that once surrounded us are starting to crumble, replaced by something far more enduring.