"Oh, sorry, where's your…?"
The person who had shoved Valentina couldn't even finish the sentence before Lucas cut him off. He took Valentina's hand and dragged her along. His heart started racing again; he bit his lips harder, but above all, his breathing was ragged.
Lorenzo got worried, thought they'd gotten lost, then relaxed when he saw they were together.
"Guys, let go of each other's hands; people will think you're a couple," Lorenzo said.
"Bah, I don't care. You don't either, right?" Valentina said.
Lucas let go of her hand as if it burned him, and immediately realized he'd done something wrong. Valentina didn't need words; the way she looked at him was enough to nail him with guilt.
Valentina looked at him with discomfort; her eyes fixed first on Lucas's hand and then on his face, intensely. Not even three seconds passed before she said in a low voice, "And then you say I disgust you…"
Lucas wanted to apologize—he didn't think, he just reacted. It was an impulse; he knew why they were there and that simply holding hands meant nothing. But Valentina ignored him and turned her back on him.
They headed to a corner where a man in his fifties was drinking whiskey with others, perhaps his same age. He had Afro-descendant features and green eyes. Valentina was hypnotized for a moment, but that feeling changed drastically when he started staring at her without getting up, toying with the glass between his fingers.
Both she and Lucas felt small, uneasy. The man was imposing, but more than that, he had a peculiar way of looking at people. A chill ran down her spine and her stomach turned when the man spoke.
"So you're the producer, right?" he said.
"Yes. That's me," Valentina answered, her voice cracking.
Valentina froze. She'd dealt with all kinds of clients, but this was the first time her legs trembled. Lucas noticed the situation and jumped in.
"Nice to meet you—Lucas Schmidt, account executive."
"A pleasure. Then let's go to the room," the CEO replied.
Valentina felt worse by the minute, a familiar sense of alert humming in her head. Her embarrassment showed in a small stumble, even though she kept her eyes on the floor.
She tugged at the sleeve of Lucas's jacket in thanks, and he squeezed her hand tightly for a moment.
The CEO, another man, Lorenzo, Valentina, and Lucas entered a small white room where Asian Renaissance paintings hung on the walls. The meeting lasted about an hour, maybe more. There was no way to measure time, and no one tried.
The man listed everything he wanted as if money weren't an obstacle, and Lorenzo agreed to everything.
"So, how much are we talking about?" the CEO asked.
Valentina opened her mouth to answer, but Lorenzo cut in, blurting out a number without even consulting her. She took a breath and, even knowing her voice was shaking, said, "How about you send us the details of what we discussed by email first? Based on that, we can give you a detailed estimate with recommendations."
Lorenzo smiled, apparently realizing his mistake, and added, "Yes, Valentina's right. Lucas, can you help me?"
Lucas smiled. He said nothing, but understood what he meant. Lorenzo looked like a rookie.
He coordinated with the CEO's assistant, they exchanged contacts, while Lorenzo couldn't stop praising the CEO. Meanwhile, Valentina sat in the back, trying to ignore everything and scrolling through her phone.
"Perfect. I look forward to the estimate and our next meeting," the CEO said.
When it ended, the man invited them all for drinks, in a place not even Lorenzo had access to.
Behind the meeting room there was an emergency exit that led to a corridor.
"Those are your pheromones, right? I like that they're marked," the CEO said.
"What do you think? Delicious, right?" Lorenzo replied sarcastically.
Lucas started clenching his fists and darting his eyes side to side as they walked down the corridor, as if looking for an exit. With every step closer to the end, for some reason, all kinds of smells pressed in on them.
He started scratching his head, picking at the skin on his fingers, twisting his mouth, and to calm his anxiety, he made the terrible decision to place his hand on Valentina's nape without permission.
Valentina grimaced in pain, wanting to scream in silence at the pressure she felt. She could feel Lucas's heart racing. She thought about clawing him when the door finally opened.
It was a gigantic underground terrace with its own bar, patio, pool, and stairs leading to Lake Zurich. The floors were tempered glass, and from the ceiling hung different figures with the hunter's symbol.
Valentina, unconsciously, stayed absorbed staring at the stairs while trying to remember the way in. Her thoughts were cut short when Lucas pressed her nape again.
"Alright, enjoy yourselves," the CEO said.
They decided to head to the bar. Valentina gently stepped on Lucas's foot; it was too many emotions all at once.
"One pisco sour and a negroni, please," Valentina said.
But when you don't want to run into someone—when you pray they won't appear—that's exactly when they show up in front of you.
"Friends, what are you doing here?" Raffael said, resting his hand on Lucas's shoulder.
"Can we talk alone for a moment?" Lucas replied.
Valentina was stunned. For some reason, Lucas asked to speak to Raffael in private, and the two disappeared among the guests. Everything that had been happening lately was strange; this was the cherry on top.
"Luca…" Valentina said, getting cut off.
All the actors and a few uninvited extras were there. It was Miguel.
"What are you doing here? Are you screwing some alpha?" Miguel said.
Valentina thought about smashing her drink on his head, but remembered she was there for business.
Her phone rang—thankfully. She gave Miguel a polite yet sarcastic smile and moved away.
She went to a corner to talk. It was Bastian, worried because he hadn't heard from her in hours. Valentina was surprised, but when she checked her phone, it was already past midnight.
"How could so much time have passed? I didn't get it: arriving, talking to the CEO, everything felt like only a few minutes. It was as if time there existed in an alternate reality."
She tried to talk a bit more with Bastian, but he told her he needed to sleep and asked her to call when she got home. Not only that—he asked her to do it as soon as possible, because her safety was of utmost importance to him.
She hung up feeling sorry for Bastian, who had stayed awake thinking about her, and at the same time it made her happy because she knew how much he cared. Bastian's voice gave her security, courage, and at times made her feel she could be invincible.
It was time to go home and say goodbye to Lorenzo, but also to look for Lucas… though someone stepped in her way.
"How have you been, Valentina?" Erick said.
The man from her nightmares. The one who used to pay her bills. The ultimate cheapskate. The man she didn't want to see again—worse than having Raffael in front of her, and as uncomfortable as Miguel.
To many, Erick was a man with sharp brows and a chiseled jaw that framed a penetrating, almost defiant gaze. His eyes were a mix of coldness and melancholy, as if hiding secrets. With fair skin tinged slightly olive, he contrasted with his dark, slightly wavy hair. Always in black, always sober, with a small mole on his left cheek—an unmistakable mark.
Valentina managed only a quick smile and a small bow of greeting and farewell to end the conversation right there. That would be enough; there was no need to talk. Now, more than ever, she wanted to flee that jungle.
But Erick blocked her view, placing his right hand on the wall to show his dominant posture and making her step back without thinking.
"RH told me you still haven't come back for your pay," Erick said with a big smile.
It was the very topic she didn't want to discuss with him and had decided to ignore to avoid more stress in her life.
"I haven't had time, sorry. I'll call RH—don't worry about such a boring matter," Valentina said, trying to escape the conversation.
She thought her answer would be enough to shake him off, but Erick blocked her again. For a few seconds, her body froze; an irritating, nervous sensation jolted through her.
In the distance she could see Miguel and others watching them—or rather, watching her with disgust, as if she'd done something worthy of the guillotine.
"It is boring, but you're here, so let's settle this now," Erick said, staring at her.
If there was something Valentina hated, it was being looked at directly in the eyes. In response, she averted her gaze. It made her feel as if they could read inside her, and that was exactly what she didn't want.
But then something started to smell off. She knew what it was—she knew it was her. She needed her bag, but realized that without noticing, she'd left it at the bar. She panicked and shoved Erick with all her strength.
He wouldn't let her go, so Valentina had no choice but to show him something forbidden, something many ignored. Something that, despite being as beautiful as gold, would only bring consequences. Valentina's rut had arrived.
He let her go, shocked. Eyes followed her. She reached her bag, opened it, and took her neutralizer. She could feel the heaviness in her back, at the nape of her neck.
She decided to leave first. The corridor she'd come through was empty. She called Lucas—no answer. She called Lorenzo—no answer. She considered staying there until things calmed down, until the symptoms eased, but then she heard the door open.
She didn't know if they were following her or not. She didn't look back and walked quickly toward the exit.
When she grabbed the doorknob to head to the main conference hall, she ran into someone not entirely unexpected.
"Valentina? What are you doing here?" Alex said, surprised.
"Alex, please—get me out of here," Valentina said.
They crashed back into the noise, into the crowd. Valentina didn't lift her eyes from the floor for a second; she didn't want anyone to see her, and let herself be guided only by the hand leading her.
She didn't know how far they'd walked, but she thought they were close. She could hear voices asking about a strange perfume; some were saying someone was in heat. The hairs on her arms stood up and, for a second, she froze.
Someone caught up to her, yanked her to face him, and forced her to release Alex's hand.
"Where's your owner? Aren't you ashamed to let everyone see?" Erick said, eyes red as he fixated on the sweet pheromones around her.
A slap… that's what Valentina thought of doing. But the dancing crowd pushed between them, making Erick let go, and Alex dragged her away again.
He was her savior, her guide. Without him, she would've caused a scandal that would stain her for life.
At the exit, two bodyguards blocked the way. Valentina had to humiliate herself again, showing her eyes. They made mocking noises with their mouths and let them through.
She wanted to vomit, she wanted to cry. Her stomach twisted with pain. Alex, worried, hugged her. Many people stared; she didn't know if they were guests or strangers. Her makeup had run.
Her hatred burned so hot she grabbed her phone and wrote to the only person who might be able to ruin Erick's life: "Good evening. Sorry for the hour, but I've made a decision: I want to go to trial."
While Alex comforted her, she tried calling Lorenzo or Lucas again, but there was still no answer. Not a minute of peace. The lights went out, the noise dropped.
Her shame was drowned out by screams slicing through the crowd like a knife. A woman covered in blood collapsed to the floor.
"Someone's been killed! Call the police!"
Valentina went blank. Fear paralyzed her; she didn't know how to react.