Alaric's pov
The monitor came alive with a flicker, washing my face in a blue light.
On the screen, the footage from the hospital emergency ward was a portrait of total collapse.
The med students on their rounds looked paralyzed, and the residents were drowning in the chaos of a crashing patient.
Then, she appeared.
Valeria stepped into the frame. There was no screaming. No panic. She moved with a frightening, cold precision that didn't belong to just a med dropout.
What were you really doing there, Valeria? You don't just drop out of medicine with hands that steady.
I paused the footage and shifted my gaze to the blueprints of Zenith Solstice spread across my mahogany desk.
A secretary seeking a quiet place to catch some air doesn't bypass three high-level security cameras and mistakenly wonders to a guarded study.
The heavy double doors of my office slammed open.
Michael, my head of intelligence, entered with a look of visible frustration, a rare sight for a man who had once located a minister's offshore accounts in less than three hours.
"There is no Valeria Onyx before three years ago," Michael stated, dropping a thick file on the desk. "No childhood photos. No social media. No family records. Just an ex-fiancé and an ex-best friend who barely seem to know the woman we're looking at now."
I didn't look up from the screen.
"And the medical school?"
"A fire-damaged archive," Michael replied, his voice tight. "Specifically for her graduating year. We found the school record, but there was no reference, no address, no emergency contact. It's like she was born the day she walked into this building."
"Nobody is that clean unless they are hiding something monumental," I murmured, finally closing the laptop. "Keep digging. Break the encryption on the archive if you have to. I want a name."
The door swung open again before Michael could respond.
Marcus Sterling stormed in, vibrating with unchecked rage.
"I want the thief found, Alaric!" Marcus roared, his face flushed a dangerous shade of purple.
"Then start your own IT team."
I didn't even shift in my chair to acknowledge the older man.
Marcus pinned me with a murderous glare, leaning over the desk until we were eye-to-eye.
"I have a rat in my company. Someone took fifty million dollars out from under my nose during my own daughter's engagement."
"A rat, Marcus? Or are you just getting old and losing your grip on your own empire?"
"Don't get smart with me, Alaric. You're marrying my daughter. Our interests are supposed to be aligned."
"I am marrying a contract," I corrected him, "Don't expect me to play security guard for your incompetence."
Marcus recoiled as if I'd slapped him. He turned on his heel and stormed out, the heavy doors booming shut behind him.
I stood up and walked into the hallway, stopping at the doorway of Valeria's empty office.
I scanned the room. I saw a single pen left on the desk, it was perfectly aligned with the edge of the mahogany.
No personal photos. No stray lipstick. No scrap of paper with a phone number.
I sat in her chair, leaning back into the leather that still held a faint trace of her scent. I thought about her cold, defiant smile and that witty, dangerous mouth.
I've held you against the wall, but it's like grabbing smoke. You're too still, Valeria. It's starting to grate on my nerves. I wonder... if I pinned you again, if I wrapped my hand around that slim throat and didn't let go, would that pulse finally jump for me? I want to feel your heart hammer against my palm just once, just to prove you're actually human.
My fingers gripped the armrests of the chair until the wood groaned under the pressure.
"You're a beautiful liar, little bird," I whispered to the empty room.
An hour later, I was sitting in the back of my black Mercedes, parked across from a nondescript apartment complex.
It was the address Michael had dug out of the city's tax shadows.
It was Valeria's home.
I looked up at the third floor. It was the only window with the lights still burning. I didn't know why I was there. Obsession? I don't think so. Curiosity? Most likely.
I stepped out of the car, the night air biting at my skin. I took the back stairs to avoid the front entrance.
No cameras here, she had intentionally chosen a place with blind spots. Smart.
I reached her floor. The door wasn't fully latched, a sliver of warm light spilled into the dim hallway.
I pushed it just an inch, my breath hitching in my chest.
Music was playing. Something low and rhythmic, not the kind of music a quiet, reserved secretary listens to.
It was raw, heavy hip-hop. I recognized the beat. Was that King Von?
Then, I saw her.
Valeria was wearing a short, silk slip dress that barely reached her thighs. Her hair was down, a dark, wild curtain falling over her shoulders. She was dancing. She moved with a slow, swaying grace that looked almost hypnotic. Her eyes were closed, and for the first time since I had met her, she looked free.
There you are. The girl behind the mask. I wonder what else you're hiding in the dark. Who are you dancing for, little bird?
I watched her from the shadows of the doorway, my own pulse beginning to thrum with a rhythm that matched the music.
She turned, her dress swirling around her legs, exposing the lean muscle of her thighs.
I stayed there for a long time, watching the light catch the curve of her neck. I felt a hunger stir in my gut that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with conquest.
I'm going to tear every secret out of you. Every lie. Every ghost. I'm going to make you dance for me.
I backed away silently. I didn't want a conversation-not yet.
I wanted the hunt to last.
I reached the street and tapped my comms as I got back in the car.
"Michael. Find out who owned that apartment before her. Find out who the neighbors are. I want everything. Now."