The Billionaire’s Valentine

VALERIE

I can't believe I'm doing this.

That was the first thought that crossed my mind as the glass touched my lips again on fucking Valentine's Day of all days, doing the one thing I swore, hunched over my father's hospital bed years ago that I would never do.

Get wasted.

"You sure you wanna go that hard?" Cassie asked from behind the counter, eyeing me like I'd lost my damn mind.

I swallowed the contents of the shot glass and felt it burn all the way down my throat. God this is torture.

"I deserve it," I said, setting the glass down harder than I meant to. "Four years, Cass. Four fucking years. I paid the bills, I fucking made his meals and I waited. I supported that asshole when his dad cut him off for his expensive lifestyle. And he couldn't even have the decency to cheat on me on a normal day. No. He picked Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day!"

Cassie winced. "It's wild... And mad cold."

"Cold?" I laughed, the sound strange to my own ears. "He fucked my best friend. Calvin actually fucked Lucy on my fucking bed. With the sheets I bought."

Cassie leaned closer. "So... heartbreak day came early for you." I slowly turned and glared at her.

"Okay, okay," she raised her hands. "Too soon. But Val, I'm serious. You're drinking too much, it's scary."

I almost laughed again. The thought was funny in a dark way. Me. Drinking too much. "I don't drink," I said. "Like, ever. You know that."

"Exactly. I've never seen you even taste alcohol and now you're downing like a pro."

I lifted the glass, staring into the amber liquid like it might talk back. It's not that I don't like the idea of drinking. It's that I chose to abstain from it.

My father was an alcoholic. He drank himself stupid and lost everything. His company. His pride. His mind. I promised myself I wouldn't be one of those girls that blames everything on a 'family curse' instead of owning her shit.

"And yet," I whispered to myself and tipped the glass again, "here we are."

I barely felt the pain anymore. I mean I should've suspected it with all those sneaking around and the fact that Lucy and I both applied for a job at his dad's company and Lucy got in despite my credentials being far more promising than her's.

"Girls!" someone called. We both turned our heads to find Marcus, the floor manager, already stressed out. He had his tie loose like the club was suffocating him.

"I need one of you to fill in for Victoria," he said. "She just called in sick and there's a guy in VIP asking for a private show." Cassie shook her head fast. "I'm sorry Marcus, I can't. I've got an exclusive booked already and he paid cash."

Marcus looked at me like he knew it was a lost cause but held onto hope. I blinked. "Me?"

He shrugged. "You're on shift."

"Valerie doesn't do privates and can't you see she's like mad wasted right now?" Cassie backed me up but...

In all the months I'd worked here, dancing but keeping distance, I never let men touch me. Never let them get too close or think for one second that my body was something they could buy.

But tonight my brain felt loose and before I could catch myself–

"I'll do it," I said. Cassie's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"I'm already wasted," I said slowly. "Might as well do more stupid things than sit here thinking about my boyfriend enjoying Valentine's day sex with my best friend as her moans soak up my walls."

Marcus hesitated. "Okay TMI but you should know this VIP is new. And according to Renee he is a big spender. Be careful, yeah?"

Cassie grabbed my arm. "Val, if you're not okay—"

"I'm fine," I said, and I think I believed it. "I just need... something else to feel."

I made my way to the dressing room and got prepared. For the first time ever, I didn't bother with the mask. Didn't tug my hair back or fake modesty. I dressed like I wanted to be seen as what my ex didn't bother noticing. Sexy.

When I stepped into the room, he was already there. My vision was blurry and I was with no doubt, drunk out of my mind but I could still make out his silhouette.

Tall. Broad. Sitting with so much aura that the air got thicker around him. His suit jacket was off and his tie loose. His eyes lifted to me slowly and something tight settled in my chest.

He didn't smile. He looked... tired. The kind of tired that sits in your bones. For one dumb second, I thought maybe we were both here for the same reason.

I started to dance. Slow. Easy. Letting the music guide me. His gaze never left my face, like he was trying to read something there. I've always loved dancing and I was fully aware how sexy I was while I dance. Men praise and adore my perfect body, which was the only up side to this job. I could never feel less sexy.

"You don't look like you enjoy this place," he suddenly said neither did he.."Guess we both made bad choices tonight," I said, getting closer.

That got a huff of a laugh. "Seems so."

I turned, letting my body move, letting myself forget for just a moment that I was broken. That my life was fucked and the last good thing I had was a mere delusion. I was well on my way down depression when I felt hands suddenly grip my hips.

Normally, I'd be disgusted. I'd step back. Tell him to keep his hands off me. But tonight... God, he was so hot. And I was already burning.

I let his hands stay and he got bolder. Pulled me close till I was straddling him. His hard length pressing through his pants. My head tipped back before I could stop myself and I grinded on his joystick, loving the friction.

"Can I kiss you angel?" he asked. That voice... fuck.

"You better."