MasukValerie’s POV
“You can’t do this!” I wanted to scream the words, to chase after them, but my voice stayed trapped in my throat as I watched the red taillights of the SUVs disappear into the thick gray fog. They drove away calmly, as if they hadn’t just destroyed my life, leaving me standing there alone—soaked, shaking, and frozen in disbelief. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Then panic slammed into me as I turned and ran toward the massive front gates of my father’s penthouse, my heart pounding so violently it hurt. I reached for the handle, expecting it to open the way it always had, the way it had since I was a child. Instead, my hand struck something cold. I looked down and gasped. Heavy iron chains were wrapped tightly around the bars. Two massive red locks hung at the center, gleaming beneath the security lights like angry, watching eyes. I grabbed the bars and pulled with all my strength, desperation surging through me—but they didn’t move an inch. “No!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “No! let me in…This is my house! This is my father’s house!” I slammed my fists against the gate again and again. The metal rang beneath my blows as pain exploded through my hands, the skin on my knuckles started to bleed, but I barely felt it. I kicked the gate, shouted for the security guards, for the butler, for anyone who might be inside. But no one answered.The house remained dark and silent. The penthouse that once echoed with my father’s laughter and music now stood silent and lifeless, like a sealed tomb. It felt as though Barrister Jaden hadn’t just locked the gates—he had locked my entire life inside and thrown away the key. Eventually, I stopped fighting. I stood there for what felt like hours, rain soaking through my clothes. The only sound was the steady tap, tap, tap of rain hitting the roof of my car behind me. I was shivering uncontrollably, my thoughts spinning in useless circles. I needed help. I needed someone to tell me this was all a nightmare—that I would wake up any second now in my warm bed, my father still alive, my world still intact. With numb fingers, I pulled my phone from my pocket. My hands were so cold they looked bluish, shaking so badly I could barely hold the screen steady. I dialed Mike’s number, my last safe place, the man who had promised to protect me. Ring… ring… ring… “Please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Mike, pick up. I need you. I need you so much right now.” It went straight to voicemail. I called again, and again. Ten times. Then twenty, his phone was on, I could hear it ringing every time, but he just wasn’t answering. A hollow, icy feeling spread through my stomach. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here when my entire world was collapsing? I forced myself to move before fear rooted me to the ground. I couldn’t stay here. I kept thinking about the message from the unknown number—the predators. I felt watched, exposed. I walked quickly to my car—the sleek black Mercedes my father had given me for my twenty-third birthday. My legs felt weak as I slid into the driver’s seat. My wet silk dress clung heavily to my skin, cold against the leather. I slammed the door shut and started the engine. There had to be a reason Mike wasn’t answering. Maybe his phone battery was down. Maybe he was already at his apartment, waiting for me, ready to hold me and explain everything. I clung to that hope as I drove through the storm. The city blurred past me, streetlights smearing into streaks of yellow against the black sky. Every time a black SUV passed by, my heart leapt into my throat, my hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Please be there,” I whispered. “Please, Mike. I need you.” I reached his apartment building far too quickly. I didn’t even park properly—I left the car crooked in the parking space and ran toward the entrance. The doorman tried to stop me, his voice muffled by the pounding in my ears. I must have looked unhinged, soaked and shaking, my dress ruined, but I didn’t care. I rushed past him and slammed the elevator button repeatedly, my chest tightening as if the air had been sucked from my lungs. When the doors finally slid open, I stepped inside. The mirror caught my reflection, but I barely recognized myself. My hair hung in wet, tangled strands. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, my face pale and hollow. I looked like a ghost—like someone already half gone. Tears burned my eyes again. I looked so broken. The elevator stopped, and I ran down the hallway toward Mike’s door, my heart racing with fragile hope. Then I froze. The door wasn’t closed, It was slightly open. A thin line of warm light spilled into the dark hallway. “Mike?” I called, my voice sharp with fear as my trembling hand reached for the handle. “Mike, are you in there? It’s me—Valerie. Something terrible happened. They locked me out. They said my father owed money. I have nowhere to go.” I pushed the door open slowly. I expected him to rush toward me. To apologize. To hold me and tell me everything would be okay instead, the apartment was filled with sound. A sound that made my blood turn cold. The noises drifting from the bedroom were unmistakable. Soft gasps. Low moans. The rhythm of two people completely lost in each other. They were the sounds of passion. Of pleasure. Not grief. Not fear. Not loss. My bag slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. My heart, which had been racing for hours, seemed to stop altogether. It felt like I had stepped outside my own body—like I was watching my life fall apart from a distance. I moved forward, fury and disbelief pulling me deeper into the apartment. My feet carried me, but I couldn’t feel them. The air was warm, thick with the scent of his expensive cologne and burning candles. That smell had always made me feel safe. It reminded me of nights I was wrapped in his arms, of promises whispered in the dark. Now, it felt like poison. I reached the bedroom door, and It was also open just a crack, light spilling onto the carpet. I pushed it wider with one trembling finger. and everything I thought I had left, shattered in silence.Valerie’s POVFor a long time, I believed my story was about surviving.Every chapter of my life seemed to be a battle against something. The secrets surrounding the Vane family. The fear I carried when I first entered their world. The pain of losing the person I used to be. The responsibility of protecting everything we built.I spent years fighting to reach a place where I could finally breathe.But when I finally arrived there, I realised something I never expected.Peace could feel unfamiliar.For so long, I was used to searching for the next problem, the next danger, the next thing I needed to fix. I had built a habit of carrying everything on my shoulders because I believed that if I stopped paying attention, everything would fall apart.But life had changed.The leadership centre had grown.The people we trained had grown.And slowly, I had to accept that not everything needed my hands anymore.That lesson became clearer when I received news about one of the largest community p
Valerie’s POVAfter everything we built, I thought I understood what legacy meant.I believed it was about creating something that would survive after us. But as time passed, I began to realise that legacy was not only about what remained. It was also about who received the chance to carry it forward.The Vane Leadership Centre continued to grow, but what made me happiest was not the size of the programme or the attention it received. It was seeing former trainees return to their communities and create meaningful changes of their own.Then, one morning, we received unexpected news.The leadership centre was being considered for an international honour because of its impact on communities. The recognition was not connected to the Vane family name or Silas’s influence. It was because of the young leaders who had taken the lessons they learned and transformed them into real action.Everyone was excited.Everyone except me.I knew how easily recognition could change the direction of somet
Valerie’s POVMonths had passed since the latest group of leaders graduated from the Vane Leadership Centre, and I began noticing something that made me realise our work had reached a new stage.The people we once guided were no longer waiting for instructions.They were creating their own paths.One day, I received an unexpected message from former trainees. They invited Silas and me to attend a gathering where they wanted to share the progress of their community projects.At first, I assumed the event was connected to the leadership centre. But when I learned they had organised everything themselves, I felt a quiet sense of pride.They did not need us to create the opportunity.They had created it themselves.That was the moment I understood the difference between teaching people and truly empowering them. We had not built a system where everyone looked toward us for answers. We had built something where people could take what they learned and create something meaningful on their ow
Valerie’s POVMonths had passed since the leadership centre expanded, and I began noticing a change that was impossible to ignore.The place no longer felt like something Silas and I had created alone.It had grown into something much bigger than the Vane family name.Every morning, I walked through the centre and saw young leaders discussing ideas, sharing experiences, and creating solutions for problems that once seemed impossible to solve. They were no longer waiting for someone to tell them what to do. They were taking responsibility for their own communities.That was the moment I understood our greatest achievement was never the building itself.It was the people inside it.Reports arrived every week from former trainees who had returned to their communities and started their own programmes. Some created educational opportunities. Others helped families gain access to resources they had never received before. Many inspired people around them to become involved and take action.E
Valerie’s POVMonths had passed since the Vane Leadership Centre opened its doors, and every day I watched something happen that I once thought was impossible.People were no longer coming to us because they needed someone to save them.They were coming because they had discovered their own strength.When I first entered the Vane world, I believed survival meant carrying every burden alone. I believed being strong meant never depending on anyone and never showing uncertainty. But standing in the leadership centre now, watching young leaders discuss ideas, solve problems, and support each other, I understood that strength had a different meaning.Strength was not carrying everything by yourself.Strength was knowing how to build something that could continue without you.The centre had grown faster than we expected. More communities reached out, asking how they could create similar programmes. They wanted to learn how we trained leaders, how we encouraged people to take responsibility,
Valerie’s POVI used to believe leadership meant having every answer.For years, I survived by taking control of every situation placed in front of me. When there was danger, I reacted. When there were problems, I searched for solutions. When people needed protection, I carried the responsibility myself.But standing inside the Vane Leadership Centre for its first training programme, I realised how much my understanding of leadership had changed.The room was filled with young people from different communities, each carrying their own experiences, struggles, and dreams. They came here because they wanted to create change, but I did not want them to leave as people who simply followed instructions.I wanted them to leave as leaders.The centre was never meant to create people who depended on someone else to make decisions for them. It was created to help people think for themselves, listen to others, and create solutions that could last.As the first session began, I asked them a simpl
Valerie's POV The sight inside the bedroom struck me like a physical blow. My breath left my lungs, and something deep in my chest shattered beyond repair.There was Mike. My Mike, the man who had held my hand at my father’s grave only hours ago, the man who had told me he loved me. He lay sprawle
Valerie’s POVThe name on the card felt heavy in my hand, like a secret too dangerous to say out loud.I remembered Roody Sergio saying that name once, months ago. He had been on the phone in his office, his face drained of color, his voice shaking. I had heard him say, “I can’t give the Vanes what
Valerie's POVThey all said it was a robbery gone wrong. They said an armed intruder broke into Roody's study and killed him for money but I didn’t believe a word of it.The sound of dirt hitting his casket was the worst sound I had ever heard. It didn’t sound like earth or mud. To me, it sounded l
Valerie's POVThe rain followed me as I drove, thick and heavy, blurring the city lights into long, broken lines. I didn’t even know where I was going. I only knew I couldn’t stay still. Every street felt unsafe. Every red light felt like a mistake.My hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel to







