3. Christian/ V
3
CHRISTIAN/ V
CHRISTIAN
I stepped into Amélie and paused, letting the atmosphere wash over me.
The low murmur of conversations mixed with the gentle clink of silverware, creating a cozy kind of buzz.
Warm, golden light bathed the polished wooden tables, and the air carried the faint, mouthwatering scent of rosemary and garlic.
It was exactly what I’d pictured—inviting, elegant, and undeniably Scarlett.
I’d replayed my brief encounter with Scarlett at the gala more times than I cared to admit.
Her quick wit and sharp tongue had stayed with me.
Not to mention the way her eyes sparked with passion every time she spoke about her restaurant.
I’d told myself I was here to discuss business, to make an offer she wouldn’t refuse, but I knew better. I’d come for her.
She stood near the kitchen pass, her sleeves rolled up and her hair pinned back in a way that was effortlessly sexy.
Her focus was split between plating a dish and directing her staff, her hands moving with precision.
She hadn’t seen me yet, and I took a moment to watch her.
“Table for one?” A hostess greeted me, her voice professional but tinged with surprise.
“No table, thank you. I’m here to see Scarlett.”
The hostess glanced toward Scarlett, hesitating. “She’s busy?—”
“She won’t mind,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
The woman nodded reluctantly, leading me toward the kitchen.
When Scarlett finally noticed me, her brows lifted in surprise, but there was something else too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of pleasure.
“Mr. Valen,” she said, her voice steady but cool. She wiped her hands on a towel and stepped closer. “To what do I owe the honor? I wasn’t expecting you.”
“That’s the point of a surprise,” I said, a slow smile tugging at my lips.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though I caught the corner of her mouth twitch. “If you’ve come for dinner, I’m afraid we’re fully booked.”
“Actually, I came for an answer.”
“An answer?” Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head.
I leaned against the counter, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “At the gala, I asked you to dinner. You never gave me an answer.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she held my stare. “That’s because I had no way to contact you.”
“That’s fair,” I admitted. “Though I doubt it would’ve been hard to find me.”
“I figured you’d forgotten,” she said, her tone casual, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
“Forgotten?” I echoed, stepping closer. “Why would I forget?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Because someone else might’ve caught your attention.”
I chuckled softly, lowering my voice. “No one else has caught my attention, Scarlett. Trust me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Her breath hitched—just barely—but she recovered quickly. “Is that so?”
“It is.” I let the words linger, watching her process them.
Her walls were up, that much was clear, but I wasn’t about to back down.
“I’ve also done a little research,” I said.
“Research?”
I nodded, straightening. “On your restaurant. I hear Amélie is doing well, but you’ve been looking for an investor to expand. Am I right?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked caught off guard. “You’ve done your homework,” she said carefully.
“I like to be prepared.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression guarded. “And what are you offering, Mr. Valen?”
“Christian,” I corrected. “And what I’m offering is a partnership. I have the resources to help you take Amélie to the next level—multiple locations, international growth, the works.”
She crossed her arms, skeptical. “Why would a man like you want to invest in a small restaurant like mine?”
“Because it’s not just any restaurant,” I said, stepping closer. “It’s yours.”
Her breath caught, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered down to my mouth before snapping back up.
The chemistry crackled between us, undeniable and electric.
“Christian…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.
“You don’t have to decide now,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Think about it. We can discuss the details later. But there’s one condition.”
Her brows lifted. “Condition?”
“That dinner you owe me.”
She blinked, then let out a soft laugh. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“I’m used to getting what I want,” I said, letting a smirk tug at my lips.
“And what happens if I say no?”
“You won’t,” I said confidently. “Because you’re curious. About the partnership… and about me.”
Her gaze locked on mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around us.
She hesitated, her guard still firmly in place, but I could see the cracks.
“Fine,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. “One dinner. But don’t expect any promises.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, though we both knew I wasn’t just talking about business anymore.
She turned back toward the kitchen, signaling the conversation was over for now, but I didn’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips.
“Scarlett,” I called after her.
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
“Wear something that’ll make it hard for me to focus on dinner.”
Her laugh was soft and low, and the sound of it followed me out of the restaurant, echoing in my mind long after I left.
Much later, I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse.
Scarlett was like no one I’d ever met—brilliant, beautiful, maddeningly guarded. And for the first time in years, I felt… uncertain.
Was I out of my league?
The question hung in the air like a fog I couldn’t shake. Women usually came with no strings, no complications, no real depth.
Not to say they weren’t interesting in their own ways, but most of them saw the Valen name and the life it promised long before they ever saw me.
And I liked it that way—clean, detached, easy.
But Scarlett? She was different. She looked right through the polished armor I wore and saw me, the real me, in ways that felt unnervingly raw.
That woman had a way of making me feel like I was both ten feet tall and completely vulnerable, all at the same time.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at me. I needed advice.
Someone who’d been there—someone who had the guts to dive into uncharted territory and come out on the other side.
Cole.
I sighed and grabbed my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I hit his name.
My older brother had always been the steady one, the one who balanced our family’s chaos without letting it break him.
If anyone knew how to handle this mess of emotions, it was him.
The line rang twice before Cole picked up. “Christian. Late-night call. What’s wrong?”
I leaned against the window, tapping my fingers against the glass. “Who says something’s wrong?”
“You don’t call me unless you need something,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “It’s either business or you’ve gotten yourself into trouble. Which is it this time?”
I chuckled. “A little of both, maybe.”
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat.
Cole was the one who’d always known what he wanted—Tori, their life together, the whole damn package.
Meanwhile, I was the guy who dodged commitment like it was a terminal disease.
“There’s this woman,” I started, immediately cringing at how cliché it sounded.
Cole laughed outright. “Of course there is. Go on.”
“She’s… different.”
“Different how?” Cole asked.
“She’s not like the others, Cole. She’s smart, driven, sharp as hell. And she’s not impressed by me—not the name, not the money, none of it.”
“Huh,” he said thoughtfully. “That explains the late-night existential crisis.”
I ignored the jab. “I can’t stop thinking about her. But the thing is, I don’t know how to approach this. She’s cautious, independent. And I don’t want to screw it up.”
Cole let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’re serious about her, aren’t you?”
I didn’t answer right away. The truth was, I didn’t know what I was.
All I knew was that Scarlett Lane had turned my world upside down, and I wasn’t ready to let her go.
“I think I could be,” I admitted finally.
“Well, first of all, stop overthinking it. Women like honesty, Christian. You don’t have to have all the answers right away—just be real with her.”
“She doesn’t trust easily,” I said, my tone grim. “She’s been burned before.”
Cole’s voice softened. “Then show her she can trust you. You’re not the guy who gives up when something’s hard—don’t start now.”
It was solid advice, as usual. But one thing still nagged at me. “You really think I’m cut out for this? For something… serious?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Cole spoke, his voice steady.
“Look, I know you’ve always thought of yourself as the guy who keeps things casual. But that’s just because you’ve never found the right person. Maybe she’s it. Maybe she’s the reason you’re asking yourself these questions. Don’t let your own doubts ruin this before it starts.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over me.
“Thanks, Cole,” I said quietly.
“Anytime,” he replied. Then, with a teasing edge, he added, “Now, if you need more advice, Tori’s way better at this stuff than I am. She’s the expert on taming stubborn Valen men.”
I laughed despite myself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up, staring down at the glowing city again.
Cole’s words echoed in my mind: Show her she can trust you.
It wouldn’t be easy. Scarlett wasn’t the type to fall for smooth talk or grand gestures.
But if there was one thing I knew, it was that I wasn’t about to give up.
Scarlett Lane was worth the risk. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to take it.
V
V had never been the type to seethe in silence. No, she preferred action—calculated, ruthless action.
But as she stood in the dimly lit hallway just outside Amélie’s kitchen, listening to Scarlett Lane’s effortless flirtation with Christian Valen, something hot and bitter curled in her stomach.
Scarlett Lane. The golden girl.
The one everyone adored, the one critics raved about, the one who, despite starting with nothing, had somehow built a name for herself in the culinary world.
And now, apparently, she’d caught the attention of Christian Valen .
V clenched her jaw, her manicured nails digging into her palm.
She’d come here tonight under the pretense of dining, a silent reconnaissance mission to observe her competition firsthand.
But she hadn’t expected to stumble upon this.
Christian Valen wasn’t just some billionaire looking to play restaurant investor for fun.
He was the name. A Valen partnership meant expansion, prestige, and power—things Scarlett Lane did not deserve.
V had worked twice as hard for half as much.
She had trained under the best, clawed her way up, and yet, she was still constantly overlooked.
Scarlett?
She waltzed onto the scene with her perfect smiles and down-to-earth charm, and people ate it up like one of her overpriced entrées.
And now Christian was offering her the kind of deal that could turn a boutique restaurant into a global empire.
A slow burn of fury pulsed beneath V’s cool exterior.
Scarlett’s voice carried down the hallway, light and teasing.
"Fine. One dinner. But don’t expect any promises."
V smirked. That was Scarlett’s first mistake.
A woman like her, na?ve and far too trusting, wouldn’t know how to handle a man like Christian Valen.
And her second mistake? Thinking this opportunity was hers alone.
V turned on her heel, her mind already racing. If Scarlett thought she could waltz into the big leagues uncontested, she was about to get a very rude awakening.
Because V had spent too long in the shadows, waiting for her moment. And she wasn’t about to let Scarlett steal it.