( 13. first doubts )
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VALENTINA MIXED another shade of blue, trying to capture the exact color of Niall's eyes on canvas. The new paints he'd sent made everything easier—colors flowing exactly as she imagined them. She stepped back, studying her work. Something was off about the expression she'd painted. Too many shadows behind the smile.
Her phone buzzed. Missing my favorite artist. Lunch?
Her heart jumped, then steadied. Even after two weeks of daily meetings, he still made her feel like a teenager with her first crush.
Where?
That little place near the National. 1pm?
She was already reaching for her coat when she noticed the time—11:47. The National Gallery was at least forty minutes away. He'd known she'd say yes. Known she'd have time to get ready.
See you there x
The café was busy when she arrived, but Niall had somehow secured the perfect corner table. He stood when he saw her, that smile making her forget her earlier unease.
"The blues are working then?" He gestured to the paint on her hands.
"How did you know I was painting?"
"Lucky guess." But his eyes flickered away for a moment. Like he was checking something. Someone?
Stop it, she told herself. You're being paranoid.
"I ordered your usual," he said, pulling out her chair. Her favorite salad appeared moments later.
She didn't remember telling him her order.
Lunch was perfect, as always. Niall told stories that made her laugh, asked about her art, seemed genuinely interested in everything she said. But something felt... rehearsed. Like he was hitting marks in a play she didn't know she was in.
"Oh, there's an exhibition next week I thought—" He cut off as his phone buzzed. Something dark crossed his face before he declined the call.
"Everything okay?"
"Fine." His smile returned too quickly. "Work. You know how it is."
She realized suddenly that she didn't. "What exactly do you do?"
"Bit of everything." He reached for her hand. "Mostly acquisitions. Boring stuff."
A man passed their table, doing a double-take. "Niall? Niall Ho—"
"Sorry mate," Niall cut him off smoothly. "Think you've got the wrong person."
The man frowned but moved on.
"Old client," Niall explained. "Always mixing me up with someone else."
Valentina nodded, but something cold settled in her stomach. The way he'd tensed. The practiced ease of the lie.
Stop it.
Her phone buzzed. It was from Victoria.
Need you home. Now.
"Ugh sorry, I have to go." She stood, gathering her things. "Sister summons."
"The Crown calls?" His tone was light but something flickered in his eyes at Victoria's title.
How did he know people called her that?
"Text me later?" He kissed her cheek, perfectly proper.
She nodded, mind racing with questions she didn't want to ask.
Victoria was waiting in her office. "Sit."
"I have my painting to finish—"
"I said sit."
Valentina sat.
"You've been seeing someone."
Not a question. Valentina's spine stiffened. "That's none of your—"
"It stops now."
"Excuse me?"
Victoria's eyes were arctic. "No more dates. No more gallery visits. No more secret meetings."
"You can't—"
"I can and I will." Victoria's voice could have frozen flame. "He's not who you think he is."
"You don't even know him!"
"I know enough."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Victoria's fingers tightened on her desk. "Just trust me."
"Trust you?" Valentina stood. "You don't trust me with anything. Not about Marcus, not about The Sovereign, not about any of it. And now you want to control who I see?"
"I'm trying to protect you."
"No, you're trying to control me. Like always." Valentina moved to the door. "I'm not a child anymore, Victoria. I get to choose who I trust."
"Val—"
"His name is Niall." Valentina turned back, chin raised. "And he makes me happy. Really happy. For the first time since Dad died, I feel like myself again."
Something like pain crossed Victoria's face. "Please. Just trust me on this."
"Why? Give me one reason."
"I can't."
"Then we're done here."
Valentina slammed the door behind her, tears burning her eyes. Her phone buzzed.
You okay, butterfly? x
All her doubts melted away. Victoria was wrong. Had to be wrong.
Perfect.
Because Niall made her feel real. Made her feel free.
And even if there were shadows behind his smile, even if things didn't quite add up...
Sometimes love meant choosing to be blind.
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𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘻𝘴𝘭𝘷𝘵 © 2024
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