Serving The Blind Billionaire

VALENTINA'S POV

"This isn't revenge; It's a promise- a promise I made to myself when she was taken away from me..."

April 19, 2013.

"Hi, Mum, did you get it?" I asked, pressing the phone closer to my ear. In the background, I heard ruffling followed by dad muttering a curse.

Shit. Dad said over the phone.

"Oh no, Bunny, we got so caught up at the hospital that we completely forgot to grab it," Mum said, her voice apologetic. "We're almost home now. We'll get it next time, I promise."

A frown formed on my face, and I shook my head furiously, even though they couldn't see me.

"No, Mum! The play is tomorrow, and I'm the lead! If I don't have Ariel's costume, Mrs. Richy's gonna make Hailey take my spot!"

My middle school was hosting its annual spring play, and I had landed the role of Ariel, and Danny Fletcher, the dreamiest boy in school... and a grade above me... was playing Prince Eric. I have had a crush on him since forever and I also knew for a fact that Hailey, my understudy and a total meanie, had a massive crush on him too. If she took my spot, she wouldn't hesitate to use it as an opportunity to get closer to him.

"It's okay, Princess. We'll turn around and get the best Ariel costume for my little girl," Dad's voice rang through the phone, steady and full of warmth.

"Thank you, Daddy," I said, relief washing over me.

"Gary," I heard Mum's voice faintly in the background. "You spoil her too much. We can't turn around now."

"We have to," Dad replied without missing a beat. "Val can't get replaced, that's my little girl. Don't worry, Bunny, it'll be a short drive-"

The call was cut off. I stared at the screen, blinking, knowing exactly what had happened. Mum and Dad must have gotten into an argument and Mum is probably scolding him saying he spoiled me too much, and Dad, like always, would be insisting I was his princess. I knew Dad wouldn't let me down. He'd get that costume, no matter what.

But I didn't end up playing Ariel.

Hailey did. And not only did she steal my role in the play, but she also ended up dating Danny until high school, while I was left with a hole in my heart.

If only I'd known that was the last time I'd ever speak to them, I would never have asked for that stupid costume.

APRIL 19 2021...

The door creaked open, and the cold night wind swept into my room. I applied the finishing touches to my makeup and stepped away from the mirror to check my dress. I was wearing a short, fitted wine-colored mini dress with thin spaghetti straps. After strapping on my heels, I took a final glance in the mirror before heading downstairs.

Today was a day I hated to remember... a day that brought nothing but pain.

I had been cooped up in my room all day, a tradition I followed every year on this day. During the day, I stayed away from civilization, isolating myself in my room. But by night, I had another tradition: getting absolutely shitfaced drunk.

My friend Chloe had invited me to a new club that had opened a few months ago. The offer was too tempting to refuse-drinks were on her, and I desperately needed something to take the edge off. Alcohol was my escape, my way of washing away all the emotions that came flooding back on this cursed day. Tonight, I planned to drown myself in every drop of free liquor I could get.

When I reached the living room, I spotted my sister, Taylor, sitting on the couch, staring blankly into nothingness. She was still in her work clothes, so I figured she had just gotten off work. Without saying a word, I stopped in front of her, hurriedly grabbed my bag from the couch, and prepared to leave.

My phone pinged indicating my Lyft was close by, and I didn't want to miss it, as it was almost midnight, and the chance of seeing a taxi was 10%.

I felt a hand drag me back and I looked back to see Taylor holding me back. "Where are you going?" she asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me back gently.

"The new club that I told you about," l replied, trying to pull my hand out of her grip but it was strong.

"That's tonight? Seriously? It's so late! Can't you skip it and stay home? I was hoping we could sit down together and talk."

I stopped struggling and shot her an almost angry look. "Talk about what?"

"Them, Len," she said softly. Her eyes softened as she looked at me, and I immediately knew what she was about to say. "Mum and Dad. You never talk about them, and every year on their anniversary, you do this. Avoiding it won't make it go away. Alcohol won't make it go away either," she said, her voice gentle but firm.

I yanked my hand out of her hold. "Who said I was avoiding it? And besides, it's been, like, a decade since they died. We don't need to sit down and rehash how I killed our parents," I snapped, rolling my eyes.

That was a lie. It had only been 8 years.

"How many times do I have to tell you? What happened to them was an accident. You didn't kill them, Len. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Taylor said, standing up from the couch and moving closer to me. Instinctively, I stepped back. I didn't have time for any emotional talks today.

She was starting to get on my nerves. "Sure. Can I go now? It's getting late."

"Len," she said, shaking her head with disappointment. "Fine. Let's not talk about them. But please, stay home with me. Just this once. Is that really too much to ask?"

She stared at me, her eyes pleading, but I avoided her gaze, unwilling to let her words sink in.

Taylor only calls me Len when she's about to manipulate me into doing what she wants. Maybe on another day, it would work-but not today. I couldn't face her today, I couldn't sit and talk knowing it was because of me she was working this hard, whether Taylor liked to admit it or not, I ruined our lives.

"It's getting late, Taylor. You said it yourself... I need to leave early. So please, let me go."

"What's wrong with you, you party every day, every single day, Valentina," she started, her voice sharp. I knew the outburst was coming.

'Here we go again', I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

"I've never stopped you from living your ridiculous lifestyle because I thought you needed space to get over it but you're twenty-one years old, with no job, no money, yet somehow, you manage to pull off partying every single day. It's just us, Valentina. What would you do if I weren't here? Hooking? Robbery? Cocaine?"

Taylor leaned in closer, her voice firm but trembling with emotion. She kept trying to meet my eyes, but every time her gaze locked with mine, I looked away, pretending to be interested in anything but her.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Valentina," she snapped, her frustration spilling over. "Do you think this is how Mum and Dad would've wanted you to live? Do you think this would make them happy?"

Her words hit me harder than I wanted to admit, but I refused to show it. Finally, I yanked my hand free from her grip and strode toward the door.

"Well, they're not here, are they, Taylor?" I said, my voice heavy with exhaustion as my fingers reached for the door handle. "Please, not today. You can lecture me tomorrow."

Without waiting for her response, I turned the knob, eager to leave her words and the weight of her disappointment behind me.

"I hope you don't come back home one day, pregnant and all alone," Her voice echoed from behind me.

Her words stopped me in my tracks. Anger surged through me, but I bit it back. I didn't want to ruin the mood I had set for the night. Still, the sting of her comment lingered.

"The second the words left my mouth, regret hit me like a wave. But I couldn't go back inside, not now. If I did, Taylor would win-and she'd make me stay home with her.

I couldn't do it. Not today.

"I'll apologize in the morning," I muttered to myself as I walked away, trying to convince myself it would all be fine by then.

*****

The warm atmosphere greeted me as I entered the club. Its warmth had me removing my furry shawl, exposing my bare back to it. It barely had people inside, probably because it was a new club, and not many people knew about it. But I like the calmness, it soothed my raging heart.

I walked over to the bartender's corner and slid onto a leather stool in front of the counter. The room was warm, but the leather felt cool against my skin. Pulling out my phone, I texted Sophie. The message was delivered, but there was no reply. Annoyed, I decided to call her instead.

Her voice came through the line on the first ring, light but distant. "Hey, Val."

"Where are you?" I asked, glancing around the room. I scanned the club, hoping to spot her, but she was nowhere in sight.

She sighed, her tone dismissive."I'm at Kyle's. I waited for you at the club until midnight, but you never showed up. Where are you now?" she shot back, flipping the question on me.

Her casual tone reignited the frustration bubbling inside me. How could she leave without even calling or texting? And now she dared to ask where I was? Where else was I supposed to be? I steadied my voice, trying to mask my irritation. "I'm at the club," I replied.

"At the club?" she repeated my words like she hadn't heard me right.

"Yes," I replied, my tone sharper than I intended.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Val," she said hurriedly. "I thought you'd changed your mind and bailed."

"Why didn't you call to check?" I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. "I got caught up in another one of Taylor's pep talks."

"Um... my phone battery died," she said quickly, too quickly. I instantly knew it was a lie.

I sighed, wishing her nose would grow like Pinocchio's-it'd probably knock her boyfriend right off his feet.

Without another word, I hung up, my jaw tightening.

This day just keeps getting worse,

A sudden chill crept down my spine, making me shiver. It felt like someone was watching me. My eyes darted around the room, but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.

VALENTINA'S POV

"Can I have two shots of tequila?" I asked, my voice steady despite the exhaustion creeping in.

The bartender nodded, pulling out a vintage gold-tipped tumbler. He poured the golden liquid expertly into the glass and slid it over. "Here you go," he said.

"Thank you," I murmured, taking the glass.

Under the soft, golden light above the bar, the glass seemed to sparkle. I raised it to my lips and took a sip, letting the liquor roll across my tongue before swallowing. The smooth start gave way to a sharp burn at the back of my throat. The tequila was strong, leaving a bittersweet tang that lingered, enticing me to drink more.

I glanced at my wristwatch. It was seven minutes past two in the morning.

The streets would be deserted by now, and finding a cab would be almost impossible. Looks like I'll be stuck here for a while, waiting until it's safe enough to head out.

Great! Just Great!

I tossed back my second shot and gestured for another. One after the other, the glasses emptied until I was on my fourth. The world around me began to blur, spinning gently as the alcohol took hold.

I wasn't the type to get drunk easily. After our parents died, I turned to alcohol to drown my grief, starting at the early age of fifteen. Half of middle school was a blur, probably because I was drunk or high through most of it. Taylor didn't discover my habit until after high school when she caught me chugging down a bottle of vodka after I learned I had to repeat a grade because I'd flunked all my classes. She was furious, of course, and I got an hour-long pep talk that night but it didn't change anything.

She was too busy trying to keep us afloat to notice how far I was sinking. At eighteen, Taylor became the breadwinner, the caretaker, and the mom. She begged me countless times to get a job, but who would hire someone a high school dropout with no college degree? And I didn't want to scrape by like Taylor, serving tables just to make ends meet.

Taylor said I should've come to her instead of hiding behind a bottle. But what did she expect? None of this would've been her burden if I hadn't begged for that stupid costume. If I'd just listened to Mom instead of throwing a fit, they wouldn't have gone to the store. The explosion wouldn't have been their business.

Sixty people died that night, including Mom and Dad. A gas leak at the store led to an explosion, a tragedy caused by the negligence of the owners. I remember sitting by the door, waiting for Dad to come home with the perfect costume. I knew he'd get the prettiest one for me, ignoring all of Mom's practical protests, because that's who he was. But instead of Dad, two cops showed up at our door.

Taylor was only eighteen when they told us the news. She dropped out of high school to take care of me, and gave up her future so I could have one. And I've never forgiven myself for it. Every year, the guilt gnaws at me, reminding me of the life Taylor lost and the one I ruined. It's why I keep drinking, why I can't stop. It numbs the pain, even if only for a little while.

A slight tap on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts, but I ignored it, as I gulped the fifth drink. The tap was persistently intruding on my privacy which got me pissed. I turned sharply in the direction of where it was coming from. "What is-" I stopped when I saw a waiter holding a golden tray that had a tumbler on it.

He nudged the tray slightly in my direction... not too close, but enough for me to see it held liquor. "The man over there," he began, pointing to the far corner of the room where a man was sitting, "He bought you a drink and asked if you'd join him at his table."

I looked the waiter up and down. "I don't mean to be rude, but can you tell him that if he wants to buy me a drink, he should be bold enough to approach me himself? Thank you." I said with a tight smile... a sarcastic one that clearly showed my anger.

The waiter bowed and left, still holding the drink in his hand. After a few minutes, a strong, cool, lemony cologne hit my nose. Instinctively, my head turned toward the source of the scent. My eyes met the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Maybe the alcohol in my system made me exaggerate his attractiveness. I doubt it because he was undeniably stunning.

Though my vision was blurry from the tequila, his facial structure still stood out. A chiseled jawline dotted with stubble stretched from below his left earlobe to beneath the right. He has a Jet black shiny hair that shimmered under the golden light.

"Hey," his thick, sultry voice resonated as he turned to face me. "Sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to come off as rude. I thought that's how it usually works," he clarified.

My brows furrowed in confusion. "How does what work?" I asked, curious.

"Buying a drink for a lady, thus inviting her to your table," He explained.

"Great, now I'm being mistaken for a hooker. Just perfect."

I let out a small laugh, the alcohol loosening my nerves. "Sorry for laughing, I'm a bit tipsy," I admitted. "You know, comments like that might work sometimes-mainly for hookers-but nine times out of ten, women find it disrespectful. Women like me."

His eyes widened, and he quickly scratched the back of his head, looking flustered. "Oh, okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I promise I didn't think you were a hooker-not that you couldn't be one if you wanted to!" He groaned and shook his head, clearly regretting his choice of words. "What I mean is, this is actually my first time in a club."

I raised an eyebrow, giggling at his nervous energy. "Your first time at a club? Seriously? How old are you?"

I found it hard to believe that someone who looked like him... a guy who could easily pass as a club regular, the type to charm a different girl every night... was a rookie at this.

His face immediately shifted into a scowl. "What does that matter?" he asked.

"Sorry," I apologized. Maybe he felt like I was invading his privacy.

"It's fine," he assured me. "It was rude of me to snap like that. I'm Christian Spade."

"Valentina Hales."

The scowl on his face melted into a soft smile. "What a beautiful name."

"Thank you," I said with a smile. "So, what finally brings you to the club today... Christain?" he asked, curious.

Christian sighed and placed his hands on his thighs, his black trousers creasing slightly. "Well, I followed my younger brother, but the idiot ditched me and let me all by myself".

I shook my head gently, laughing. "And now you want to buy me a drink to keep you company?" I asked.

"No, certainly not," he said quickly. "I've been watching you since you entered the club."

He paused when he saw my eyes widen at his statement. "Shit! I know that came out weird and creepy, but I promise you, I mean you no harm. Fingers crossed." He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, crossing his middle and index fingers together on both hands.

"A serial killer or a rapist would say that too," I said, staring intently at him.

"Okay, that's fair," he admitted. "But I'm neither of those things. I'm just a guy who finds the lady in front of him attractive." He met my gaze, his expression sincere. "Alright, how can I prove that I'm harmless?"

"Show me your ID," I demanded. He started to reach into his pocket, but I raised my hand. "Wait. A serial killer or rapist would have IDs too."

He chuckled softly. "Fair enough. I don't usually do this, but you've left me no choice. I'm a Doctor. I work for a very famous hospital. You must have heard about them, or..." he hesitated briefly. "Do you have your phone with you?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Go on the web, and search for the Heart Spade Medical Institute. You should find a picture and a few articles about me there."

I shook my head lazily. "Nah, my phone's in my bag, and I'm too wasted to dig it out," I admitted with a slight wave of my hand.

"So what about you, Valentina, why are you at the club today?'

"To forget, about the mess that is my life," I said without sparing him a glance,

'Ok fair enough," he said and kept mute, we fell into awkward silence and I was grateful, he did pry to know more.

His name sounded oddly familiar but I didn't want to stress myself thinking about where I had seen or heard the name from but then it clicked.

The club's name was Ace of Spades.

Shit!

VALENTINA'S POV

"Wait," I said, breaking the silence. "Heartspade's Hospital? I know it." My voice came out louder than I intended, earning a few glances from nearby tables. "I mean, who doesn't? It's one of the biggest in the city. And this club is called Ace of Spades..." I trailed off, narrowing my eyes at him. "Plus, your last name is Spade. That's not just a coincidence, is it?" I asked, arching a brow and gesturing downward with my finger.

Christian nodded casually as if it didn't matter much. "My younger brother owns this club," he said, his tone nonchalant. "He's the social one in the family. Dragged me out tonight, then bailed the second we walked in." His annoyance was subtle, but it was there.

Without thinking, I reached for one of the tumblers in front of him, brought it to my lips, and downed the liquor inside. The burning sensation tickled my throat, but I didn't care.

"Thank you for the drink," I said politely, flashing him a small smile.

"That drink was actually for my brother," he replied with a grin. "I was going to get you another one, but you're welcome anyway." He chuckled and downed his own drink. "Woah, that's so harsh on the throat!" he exclaimed loudly.

I couldn't help but smile tightly. Maybe it's his first time drinking alcohol too, I thought.

"Your younger brother wants you to have fun, while my older sister is against it. What a world we live in," I said, shaking my head.

Christian sighed and shrugged. "Or maybe she's just looking out for you. She doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I whined, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm an adult. I can take care of myself... you know what, just forget I said anything," I joked nervously, trying to mask my slip-up. He chuckled softly, easing the tension, and I inwardly sighed in relief. I'm not about to start sharing my life story with a stranger.

Suddenly, a strange sensation began to creep over me. My guts began to heat up. Like a furnace fueled by coal, it rose and spread across each of my skin. It was a strange feeling, was it the drink? Did he mix it with something else?

The room suddenly felt hot, the heat becoming unbearable. I tugged at the fabric of my strapless black midi-length flared dress, its lack of sleeves was meant to keep me cool... Yet here I was, sweating profusely.

This is why I don't accept freebies from strangers.

Christian noticed my discomfort. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, in a low and concerned voice. His hand brushed against my thigh accidentally, and he quickly withdrew it, his expression apologetic.

But to my surprise... and confusion... I found myself wishing he hadn't pulled away. I wanted his hand in them. I began to crave his touch which was weird because I was never the one to have sexual thoughts about a stranger.

"You're hot," he hissed. "I mean literally, not-" He paused, visibly flustered. "Not in a weird way. Are you okay, though?"

His concerns were making it hard for me to focus on other things aside from him. My eyes trail down from his striking blue orbs to his nose and finally to his rosy lips. They looked soft and succulent under the light. I was so lost in my imagination that I didn't notice him calling out to me.

"Valentina? Valentina?"

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I jerked upright, blinking rapidly. "Yes," I answered, my voice low and thick with an unfamiliar lust.

His face tilted slightly, concern etched into his features. "Are you okay? You're sweating and breathing hard. Do you need us to leave? I can give you a ride home," he offered.

I agreed almost immediately, not caring that he was a stranger I had just met.

"Alright then, let's get you out of here."

He stood up from the stool, leaning over to exchange a few words with the bartender. I couldn't make out what he said, but the bartender nodded his head in agreement. Christian turned back to me, stepped closer, and wrapped my bare shoulders with his jacket before helping me up.

The moment his hands touched my skin, I hissed softly at the unexpected warmth of his fingers on my burning flesh. His firm grip steadied me as I wobbled on shaky legs. Slowly and carefully, he guided me out of the dimly lit club, toward his car. He unlocked the doors, led me to the passenger's seat, fastened the seat belt over me, and closed the door. My weak eyes watched him run to the other side of the door.

The strong scent of his cologne filled the car, intensifying the turmoil coursing through my body. My skin felt like it was on fire, and my pulse raced uncontrollably. It was as though my body was screaming for his touch. My mind spun with dark thoughts. Did he spike my drink?

Is this how it happens?

Raped in a small car by a rich man's son? Taylor is going to be so mad

A bitter thought crossed my mind. If that's the case, I might as well make money off it. He can't have my body for free.

"What did you do to me?" I asked, my voice strained and my heart pounding in my chest.

"Huh?" he asked, looking confused.

"Cut the crap you,,, you jerk, i... it was after I took your drink that I started feeling like this. You drugged me on purpose, didn't you? To rape me right?" I blurted out, watching as his body froze. "Well, you can't have free sex. Drop some bills, let's get this over with... and please, use a condom, I don't want to contact whatever disease you have." i said, but it didnt sound like me.

Ohh God, I must really be out of my mind.

"W...What? what do you mean?" He wanted to start the car but he paused and turned his head sharply to look at me. "Use a condom? Do you think I want to have sex with you? I promise you Valentina, I didn't spike your drink." He explained, before turning back toward the dashboard, muttering under his breath as if to calm himself, but then paused. His hand hovered over the ignition.

"Is it just me, or is it getting really hot in here?" he asked suddenly, reaching for the air conditioning and turning it on full blast.

I frowned in confusion. "Were you drugged too?" My surprise was genuine and then it clicked....

The drinks.

"Your brother must have pulled a huge one on you, and I ended up as collateral damage," I said, my words coming out in short, hard breaths.

The burning sensation was unbearable now, as though my core was on fire, consuming me entirely. I leaned my head back against the seat, my body trembling. "I feel so hot," I whispered, my voice laced with desperation. "So hot... and so turned on."

A throbbing discomfort settled between my thighs, a relentless spark that grew stronger every time I glanced at Christian. It was humiliating, but the drug had taken over, overriding my sense of control. This wasn't me... this couldn't be me.

I needed relief from this suffering.

I turned my head weakly to face Christian, he was becoming worse by the minute. He had loosened his tie from his collar and I felt more turned on seeing his skin. Christian reached for a water bottle behind his seat, his hot breath grazed my face and I felt even worse.

"Christian," I whispered slowly. He paused and brought his gaze to my countenance. Our gaze locked into each other's, the silence made our heavy breathing audible to our ears. My eyes left his, tracing its way to his rosy lips.

My head began moving forward to his face, and with my eyes still on the lips, I drew closer till there was no space between our faces. His breath was hot against my skin. I gazed at him from under my eyelashes to meet his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but I shut him up with a kiss.

Christian pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with mine. "We shouldn't be doing this, Valentina. We're under the influence," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with uncertainty.

"I'll stop if you want me to," I whispered softly, my voice barely audible, yet heavy with desire.

Christian hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching mine, and then he leaned in again, the world outside fading into oblivion as I allowed myself to be swept off by the moment. The kiss deepened by the minutes, it was electric, fueling the heat between us and I found myself responding with a hunger that surprised me, my body pressed against him as though he was a magnet. His hands were everywhere, tracing paths of fire on my skin, I was completely consumed by the moment.

I moved closer to him, straddling his lap as I settled onto his thighs. Our clothes were discarded carelessly, forgotten in the heat of the moment. The world outside, the club, and everything else faded into irrelevance as we moved together on the carseat.

My back pressed against the steering wheel, and it let out a loud honk, breaking the silence of the car.

Christian chuckled softly between kisses, his breath warm against my skin. "Hold on," he murmured, reaching down to recline the seat. The steering wheel retreated, creating space between it and me, allowing us to continue undisturbed.

His laugh was infectious, and for a moment, everything felt wild, reckless, and completely out of control-but I didn't want to stop.

Every touch, every kiss was a manifestation of the drug in our system. We moved together on the couch, a dance of desire and needs. Seconds turned into minutes, the night an endless train of whispered names and shared breaths. I surrender myself completely, giving myself over to the pleasures that overwhelmed me in his arms.

If only I had known that this moment would mark the beginning of something far darker than I could have ever imagined.