𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

Chapter Ninety-Six

VALENTINA
KINGSTON

"You look gorgeous, baby," Christian murmured, his arm possessively wrapped around my waist. There was a hint of darkness in his gaze, a glint that warned anyone who dared to stare too long. "All these people watching you is pissing me off," he added, his voice low, like the rumble of a storm beneath the surface of the calm.

I laughed softly, trying to calm him, still tangled in the mess that was our relationship. "Relax, our family's watching." I pointed over to my brother and father, who both stood across the room, each casting glares that could slice through steel at Christian.

Nearby, Uncle Alessio muttered something to Aunt Avery, crossing his arms with that familiar, annoyed look. "I don't even know how my son got your daughter. He's an asshole," he said, voice laced with irritation.

Aunt Avery gasped, smacking his arm playfully. "Leave our son alone, Alessio. You're the real asshole here."

Uncle Alessio just shrugged, raising an eyebrow as if he didn't care to argue. "I still don't know why we come to these galas. Damon and Marcella should just handle these things alone. Why drag the whole family into it?" He grunted, watching my parents go through the motions of greeting guests with practiced charm.

I glanced over at my parents—the legends. Sometimes it was unbelievable, standing in their shadow, feeling like a mere reflection of their legacy. Being Damon Lars's daughter was something I both wore like a badge and dragged like a weight. People looked at me, expecting a mirror of his strength, his ruthlessness. And I tried to live up to that, but it came with its price. I was still shocked I was his daughter, my father was the strongest man I'd ever seen.

I shrugged at Uncle Alessio. "Honestly, I'm annoyed too. I'm exhausted. I don't know how Rosa manages it—she's practically glowing all the time, and she's pregnant on top of it." I frowned, exasperated. "Speaking of Rosa, why's she never here?"

I barely get to see my cousin anymore.

Aunt Lily sighed, disappointment clouding her face. "My poor daughter just wants to escape the drama. She wants to raise her child in peace, away from all this... the constant whispers, the media. I wish she could stay, but I understand."

I nodded, half-wishing for the same kind of escape, though I knew I'd never leave. This was my world, for better or worse. "Well, knowing my luck, any daughter of mine will end up just like me—a wild little thing, probably seeking attention wherever she goes." I laughed, and Aunt Avery high-fived me, laughing at the thought.

The laughter was short-lived, cut through by Aunt Stella's voice—a low, calculated tone that had a way of slicing through any conversation. "Didn't you visit Adeline two weeks ago?" she asked, her gaze sharp, assessing. "You never told us how she's doing."

I felt a pang of irritation, holding back an eye roll. I hated how she always knew exactly where to poke, where to prod. Stella Meadows was a force, one I had tried and failed to ignore. She had this way about her, a beauty that defied age, an elegance that somehow made her cruelty seem polished. It annoyed me. In her mid-forties, she looked younger than most of us in the room. Too beautiful for the darkness in her head.

I forced a smile, my voice laced with a sharp edge. "She's happier than ever. Better than anyone here, I'd say. I guess she was just miserable in this place," I replied, letting the shade fall where it may.

Christian chuckled beside me, leaning close to whisper in my ear, "Atta girl. Stir things up a bit."

I gave him a sly smile, feeling a flicker of satisfaction as Aunt Stella's face twisted slightly. She recovered quickly, sipping her wine with that effortless grace. "Well, I'm just glad my daughter's doing good," she said, her voice almost bored.