Chapter 1 Maybe He Was Right

VALENTINA

People like to call me a bitch behind closed doors.

They assume that if they lower their voices over crystal glasses at charity galas, their whispers won't reach me.

They're wrong.

I hear everything. I simply don't care.

Kindness in the corporate world is a luxury reserved for heirs who never had to claw their way to the top.

My uncles believe sharing my blood entitles them to a seat at my table. My board thinks I'm too young to run the empire my grandfather left me.

And then there's Charles.

Stupid, pathetic Charles.

The man I agreed to marry to protect my company's stock value and thwart my uncles' attempt at a board takeover.

The same man who couldn't go twenty-four hours without becoming a liability.

"Ah... yes, Daddy! Right there!"

The woman's moans echoed through the penthouse hallway.

The idiot hadn't even latched the door.

"Whose pussy is this?"

A sharp slap cracked through the doorway, followed by the rhythmic creak of the mattress.

"Tell me!"

"It's yours, Daddy!" the woman squealed.

I stopped at the threshold, took a slow breath, and adjusted my blazer cuffs.

Then I kicked the door open with the pointed toe of my red-soled heel.

The woman shrieked and scrambled backward, dragging the silk sheets over herself.

Charles, however, didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.

He stood at the edge of the mattress, his miserable excuse for an erection still standing as he glared at me.

"Valentina," he sighed with a bitter laugh. "Do you enjoy being a buzzkill? Can't a guy have a little recreation without you storming in?"

"Recreation?" I tilted my head, letting my gaze sweep around the room. "If you're going to embarrass me with an affair, Charles, at least have enough self-respect to choose a five-star hotel and someone whose salary isn't paid by my company."

My eyes landed on Chloe, my secretary, cowering beneath the duvet.

Of all the women in the city, he'd chosen my secretary.

"Enjoy your stay here, Chloe," I said coldly. "Because you just lost your job. Pack your desk. Actually, don't bother. I'll have security dump your belongings in the alley behind the building."

Chloe yanked the duvet down, her eyes widening with terror.

"Ms. Rhodes, please! I-I was forced into this, I swear. I didn't mean to-"

"Valentina, come on. Don't be like that." Charles stepped between us. "She was just-"

"Shut the fuck up, Charles."

My voice cracked through the room like a whip.

He took a half-step back, the smugness on his face faltering.

I turned to Chloe, who was already crying.

"You have thirty seconds to get your cheap ass out of my sight before I make sure you never work in this state again."

She scrambled off the bed and gathered her clothes from the floor.

"Ms. Rhodes..." she whimpered, clutching them against her chest.

"Save the performance for someone who cares. Out. Now."

She sniffled before practically sprinting past me.

I waited until her footsteps faded before turning back to Charles.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, glaring at me as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

I folded my arms. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're so fucking mean, Valentina." He lit a cigarette. "It's why no one loves you. It's why you'll always be completely alone."

A dry scoff escaped me.

"Oh, please. I gave you one rule. Do not embarrass me. Yet here you are, fucking my secretary of all people."

I held up my phone, the screen still glowing with the tip-off email from a local tabloid.

"Do you have any idea what would have happened if that reporter had published these photos first? Do you even possess the basic intelligence to understand how a scandal like this could affect my company's stock value?"

Charles took a long drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke between us.

"I don't care," he muttered, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Of course you don't. Why would you care about an empire you didn't build?"

I turned toward the door, then glanced back at him.

"Now put some pants on. You look like a joke."

I walked out without waiting for a response.

How had I ended up in this position?

Marrying Charles had been a calculated move to protect my company from my uncles. But every day I spent tolerating him felt like another piece of my grandfather's empire slipping through my fingers.

And I'd be damned if I let them take it from me.

My vision blurred, and my steps faltered.

Before I could reach for the wall, a pair of strong hands caught me.

His familiar scent surrounded me.

I looked up to see Roman Calloway. My bodyguard.

The one man who could make me forget, even briefly, how much I hated my life.

His honey-colored eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I felt seen.

But Charles's words came rushing back.

It's why no one loves you. It's why you'll always be completely alone.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe I was completely alone.

Yet standing in Roman Calloway's arms, I realized there was one thing I'd wanted for far too long.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

His voice pulled me back to the present.

"No," I whispered.

One of his brows lifted, but he didn't release me.

"Is there anything you want, Ms. Rhodes?"

My gaze dropped to his lips before returning to his eyes.

"I want..." I hesitated, then forced the words out.

"I want you to fuck me."