Page 11

"What the fuck were you doing there?" Oscar asked, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and curiosity as he leaned against the wall outside Valentina's office.

Lilith giggled softly, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Talking?" she replied, shrugging innocently.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. He knew Lilith too well—she never found herself in situations like this without a reason. "Am I getting fired?"

Lilith tilted her head, her expression turning serious, but her lips twitched into a teasing smile. "Maybe."

Before she could say anything else, Oscar playfully slapped the back of her head, a grin spreading across his face. Lilith burst into laughter, loud enough to echo through the hall.

Inside her office, Valentina's gaze shifted towards the door at the sound of Lilith's laughter.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she listened, her fingers hovering over the box of salted caramel chocolates on her desk, her attention momentarily captured by the warmth of the sound drifting from the hallway.

?

Lilith sat cross-legged on Gabrielle's bed, curled into her usual spot near the wall.

Her baggy sweater swallowed her frame, the sleeves halfway down her hands, and her greasy hair was messily clipped up with strands falling into her eyes.

No makeup. Just her—tired, real. A bowl of pasta rested in her lap, steam curling into the air as she lazily twirled noodles onto her fork.

She had promised Gabrielle she would cook, and she'd kept her word. In moments like these, Lilith often joked—half serious—that she would've made a perfect housewife if she hadn't decided to become a therapist in the future.

She told Gabrielle about Valentina and the chocolates, how she'd handed them over without thinking much of it, and how now, stupidly, she craved the very same chocolates she'd given away.

But that wasn't what truly unsettled her.

What worried Lilith was the quiet. Life had been too peaceful lately.

Not empty—no, it had been filled with warm moments, laughter, glances, a lightness she wasn't used to.

It was exciting, almost cinematic. And that's what made her anxious.

This wasn't her life. It never had been. She could feel it-something was coming.

Did it scare her?

Not really.

Fear required energy. She was too exhausted. Her body carried it like a dull weight. The mood stabilizers she'd been taking for months had lied to her. For a moment, they worked. Or maybe she had convinced herself they did. It didn't matter now.

She'd finished therapy a year ago. It had been nice—comforting, even—to speak to a wise, intelligent woman once a week.

She could say anything, even the most insane things, because it was a place for it.

Sometimes, she even thought about going back.

But there was no way, not with how much it cost. And she didn't want to bother her dad with it, even though he'd be more than happy to help her.

She was self-aware, disturbingly so. She could name each of her wounds, trace their origin, imagine the healthiest outcome. But that didn't mean the ache went away.

It never really went away.

Still, she had kind of accepted it. This was her life. Her mind might have been a little miserable, but... it wasn't that bad. Right?

Right?

She sighed and leaned into Gabrielle, who wrapped an arm around her absently while scrolling through her phone.

Gabrielle was going out tonight—again. The usual.

Lilith, content in her softness, offered to do her makeup.

She sat in Gabrielle's lap, knees tucked on either side of her, giggling as she brushed glitter onto her best friend's eyelids.

Gabrielle always asked Lilith to do her makeup. It was a ritual now.

Lilith almost dozed off there, lulled by the warmth and weight of the moment, when her phone buzzed.

Her body tensed for a second. A familiar flash of panic sparked in her chest as she reached for it.

A friend? Her dad? Someone from uni?

Or worse-her mother.

She glanced at the screen.

Oscar.

She exhaled with a tired smile.

And that's how she found herself in an expensive home furnishing store the size of a small village. The kind of place where each section felt like its own universe: earthy-toned kitchens, velvet-draped living rooms, bathrooms with golden faucets she'd never afford.

One thing Lilith loved about her brother being an architect? These little trips. She could never say no to cute wooden tables, soft blankets, or vanilla-scented candles. Her brother spoiled her. Always had. Just like her dad. She was a princess, after all-might as well live like one.

It worked out perfectly: Oscar wandered off to the serious section—floor panels, sleek countertops, dramatic lighting fixtures—while Lilith lost herself among ceramic mugs, tiny shelves she had no place for, and comfy armchairs.

It would've been amazing, actually.

Except Oscar forgot to mention one minor detail: Valentina Salvatore would be there.

Who the hell goes shopping with their boss?

Sure, it was work-related-something about sourcing interior details for a new company apartment—but still.

And the second Lilith saw her, she wanted to die. Actually die.

Even in casual attire, the woman looked criminally beautiful.

She wore a long beige coat that moved with elegance when she walked, a soft blouse tucked into dark slacks, and her heels—of course she still wore heels-clicked against the polished floor like punctuation marks in a language Lilith would never be fluent in. She looked expensive. Warm. Effortless.

Lilith, on the other hand, looked like a homeless rat.

An expensive store rat.

Oversized sweater, baggy sweatpants with a coffee stain on the thigh, no makeup, and her hair tied in a limp, tragic bun that hadn't been brushed since yesterday.

She wanted to curl up in one of the display beds and disappear forever.

She buried her face in her hands the second she heard that voice behind her.

"That unhappy to be here?"

Valentina's tone was soft, maybe even amused, but Lilith felt her entire body lock up. Slowly, she peeked through her fingers and looked up.

"Hi." she murmured, barely louder than a breath, before turning around and hurrying off to follow Oscar like her life depended on it.

Valentina watched her go, confused.

She had expected something else. A sarcastic comment, a question, a curious glance.

But now, everyone seemed to be minding their own business—including Lilith. And that was saying something, because Lilith would usually be the first to not mind her own business. But not when she looked like that.

There was no way the blonde haired girl could let Valentina see her for longer than a few seconds. She could practically hear the echo of her own insecurities bouncing off the perfectly curated walls.

Luckily, the plushie section distracted her.

She smiled the moment she walked in. Soft shelves of stuffed animals stared back at her like sad, abandoned puppies—desperate to be loved.

One more plushie wouldn't hurt, right? She pouted slightly at a beige bear with droopy eyes and held it to her chest. She actually felt a bit upset that she couldn't take them all home.

They needed her. Every single one of them.

Then she felt the shift. That familiar presence next to her.

The woman she was trying so hard to ignore had found her again.

Before Valentina could even open her mouth-because she was visibly about to—Lilith blurted out without looking, "Don't look at me."

Valentina blinked, taken aback. The girl's voice wasn't angry. It was small. Defensive.

Lilith forgot how bad she looked the moment she felt warm fingers under her chin.

Valentina gently lifted her face.

Her breath caught for a moment as Valentina tilted her chin up, firm but careful—making her look at her. There was concern in the woman's gaze, sharp and searching.

"What happened?" Valentina asked quietly, brows furrowed as if she were trying to read Lilith like a book.

She searched for clues—something on Lilith's face that explained it.

Plump lips, bitten raw and flecked with dried blood. A small, slightly upturned nose. Pale skin dotted with old acne scars. Big blue eyes framed with dark lashes and deep, restless under-eyes. She looked tired. Fragile, maybe. But not broken.

Still, nothing explained the girl's retreat. Nothing screamed emergency.

Valentina sighed, letting her hand fall away the second Lilith spoke.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I just look ugly."

The dark haired woman let out a small, unexpected laugh.

"You don't." she said gently.

Her gaze moved slowly down Lilith's outfit, assessing it with a teasing sort of precision. "But your pants would love to see a washing machine."

Lilith snorted, and some of the tightness in her chest loosened. It wasn't much, but it helped. The way Valentina said it—playful, not judgmental—made her feel less like crawling into the nearest shelf.

She smiled softly and returned her attention to the plushies, running her fingers across the fur of a floppy-eared puppy.

"A grown girl buying a plushie?" Valentina asked, watching her from the side, arms loosely crossed.

"You look like you could use one too." she replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "It would soften you up."

Valentina raised a brow, amused, as Lilith turned and began scanning the shelves with purpose.

"What are you doing?"

"Choosing a plushie that suits you." Lilith said simply, already walking down the aisle like she was on a sacred mission.

Valentina stayed in place, watching the girl's fingers grazing over each stuffed animal like she was inspecting them for emotional compatibility.

God help her, but Valentina couldn't look away.

Lilith paused in front of a sad-looking gray elephant with big floppy ears and tilted her head, considering it. Then she glanced back over her shoulder at Valentina, who was still standing there like she wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up in the plushie aisle of a high-end furnishing store.

"There are actually case studies that show that plushies reduce stress." Lilith said, her voice soft but assured.

Valentina tilted her head, intrigued.

"I'm talking about adults." Lilith added with a little smile, turning back to the shelf.

Valentina crossed her arms, one brow arched. "That's the kind of case studies you learn about?"

Lilith turned around slowly smiling sleepily. "Yes. I will be saving people with plushies."

Valentina huffed a soft laugh through her nose.

"I might even borrow them mine." Lilith added casually, still smiling.

Valentina tilted her head, a little skeptical. "You have a plushie collection?"

Lilith's face lit up as she nodded proudly. "Of course I do."

Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she teased "Do you want my number? I can always show you." It was an obvious joke—light, flirty, not meant to be taken seriously.

Valentina paused, almost too long, before her lips quirked upward. "I could manage some of my free time to take a look."

And just like that, she pulled out her phone.

Lilith's heart skipped a beat. She stared at the phone in Valentina's hand, her face suddenly flushed. She wasn't sure why, but something about the request felt... almost too personal. Her hand trembled slightly as she typed in her number.

When it was done, she added a contact name: Lils—and a pink heart at the end.

Valentina stood still, watching her with a strange, quiet intensity, and for a second, she had no idea why she was even doing this.

Her choices were always carefully thought out, calculated—but this time, she found herself confused by her own actions.

She didn't need Lilith's number. But then again, maybe she did. She wasn't sure.

Just as the silence between them threatened to stretch, Lilith's gaze flicked to the side—and then, as if drawn by instinct, her eyes landed on a shelf nearby.

Her expression shifted with sudden amusement, a spark of recognition lighting her face.

The plushie felt like a perfect match for the woman beside her.

Lilith pointed towards the shelf, her long, sharp kitten-claw nails extending as she gestured. "Look," she said, her voice playful. "It looks like you."

Valentina followed the direction of her hand to a small black panther plushie nestled between a few other stuffed animals. Its fur was sleek and soft, its green eyes dark and piercing. The way it sat, a little proud, a little distant—it did look uncannily familiar.

"Does it?" Valentina asked, squinting at it.

Lilith nodded, stepping over to pick it up and holding it out to her. "Completely."

Valentina stared at the plushie for a second, taking in the panther's slightly stern expression and too-serious face.

She took it into her hands and she may have reluctantly agreed.

And Lilith giggled—full, airy, and delighted—because the resemblance was just too good. The plushie's look mirrored Valentina's.

Just as Lilith wanted to tease the woman about the panther, Oscar's voice called out from a distance. "Miss Salvatore, I wrote down the types of wood."

Valentina looked up, nodding with a satisfied expression. "You're all done. Thank you."

Oscar walked over, not even batting an eye at the sight of his sister standing next to the formidable CEO.

He was used to Lilith's ability to annoy people of authority—it was like her superpower.

But with Valentina, it was different. There was a certain charm to the way Lilith weaseled her way into people's space, even when they were clearly out of her league.

She was their sweetest nightmare, disarming with a smile, always managing to push boundaries sometimes even going too far.

Lilith, still smiling, waved cutely at Valentina before turning to follow her brother.

Oscar, knowing exactly what she wanted, casually bought her some scented candles on the way out—cinnamon and vanilla, of course.

Valentina stood there for a moment, her gaze landed on the little black panther plushie in her hand. Its dark green eyes seemed to stare back at her with judgmental intensity, as though it was challenging her to think about something. And for a moment, that's exactly what she did.

A grown woman, having a staring contest with a stuffed animal.

Valentina couldn't help but chuckle to herself. It was ridiculous, but there was something endearing about the whole situation. Maybe it was the way Lilith had insisted on choosing something for her, or how she had joked about softening her up.

With a sigh, Valentina found herself looking down at the panther. It was soft. Soft in a way that made her feel a little lighter.

She could have sworn she'd never buy something like this for herself, but she didn't put it down.

That night, when she was alone in her penthouse, she found a spot for the black panther in her bedroom, its eyes still staring fiercely into the room. Valentina couldn't quite explain it, but somehow, having it there felt... right.

Lilith's phone number lingered in her mind as well, an unexpected presence, not unlike the panther—sharp, yet strangely comforting.