The Forbidden Line

3.Fragile Illusion

The rumble of the storm outside the Vermont villa gradually subsided as dawn began to break, leaving behind a thick expanse of snow that froze the entirety of New England.

However, for Valera, the silence of that morning felt far more terrifying than the howling wind of the previous night. When her consciousness fully returned, the very first thing she felt was the weight of a firm, muscular arm wrapped possessively around her waist, along with the dense scent of cedarwood and masculine musk clinging tightly to her skin.

Valera opened her eyes slowly. The pale morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the guest room curtains, illuminating the disheveled layers of the thick blanket. Beside her, Garrick Valentino was still asleep, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The face of the thirty-eight-year-old man looked incredibly peaceful, worlds away from the cold and intimidating impression he always projected on Wall Street.

A sudden wave of panic hit Valera’s chest like a sledgehammer. The logic and sanity that had evaporated last night beneath the billionaire’s charm and wildness now returned with the crushing impact of an overwhelming guilt. She stared blankly at the ceiling of the bedroom, while warm tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes.

“What have I done?” her mind screamed repeatedly.

The man sleeping beside her was not just some stranger she had met at a New York bar. This man was Garrick Valentino. The owner of Valen Group, one of the most influential investment titans in Manhattan. And what destroyed Valera’s conscience the most was that Garrick was the biological father of Clarissa, her own best friend since their college days.

With extremely slow and cautious movements, Valera brushed Garrick’s large hand away from her waist. Every friction of their skin sent an electric jolt that triggered flashes of last night’s events, how his lips had claimed hers, how those firm hands had gripped her waist on this very bed, and how she herself had moaned in surrender, giving him everything. Valera bit her lower lip hard to suppress the sob that nearly escaped.

She stepped down from the bed, ignoring the ache spreading through her young body. With trembling hands, she gathered her clothes scattered across the wooden floor, a chaotic sight that confirmed just how wild the night they had passed truly was.

After hurriedly putting her clothes back on, Valera stepped backward, looking at Garrick one last time before turning around and running out of the room toward her own bedroom upstairs.

Inside her bathroom, Valera turned on the hot shower to maximum volume. She stood beneath the pouring water, harshly scrubbing the skin of her arms, neck, and thighs with soap, as though she could erase the lingering traces of the wet, intense touch from Garrick’s tongue and lips last night.

Her skin turned red from scrubbing too hard, yet the feeling of dirtiness and guilt inside her chest refused to fade. She had betrayed Clarissa, the only person who had sincerely brought her into the circle of this family.

Exactly at nine in the morning, the roaring sound of a car engine breaking the silence of the villa’s courtyard startled Valera. From behind her bedroom window, she saw a luxury black SUV successfully breaking through the snow path that local workers had begun to clear.

The car door opened, and the figure of a girl wearing a thick, furry jacket hopped out cheerfully.

“Clarissa.”

Valera’s blood instantly ran cold. The overland route from Boston to Vermont had apparently opened much faster than originally estimated. Valera quickly dried her body and put on the most covered, warm clothing she owned, a high-necked knit sweater to hide the red marks Garrick had left on her collarbone. With a racing heart, she stepped down to the main floor.

As soon as she reached the living room, Valera found Clarissa already there, tightly hugging her father who stood rigidly near the fireplace. Garrick was already back in his neat attire, an elegant gray knit shirt and dark trousers, his appearance completely transformed back into a respectable, authoritative gentleman, as if last night’s wildness was nothing more than an illusion.

"Valera! Oh my God, thank goodness you two are alright!" Clarissa released her hug from her father and immediately ran forward to embrace Valera tightly. "I was worried to death last night when the storm cut off the phone network. I was afraid Papa would be a nuisance to you, or that you were terrified here all alone."

Being hugged so sincerely by her best friend made Valera feel like the most cruel criminal on the face of the earth. Her body froze within Clarissa’s embrace. Her eyes instinctively shifted to look toward Garrick, who stood a few paces behind his daughter.

Garrick did not avoid Valera’s gaze. The man stared at her with a pair of deep, sharp gray eyes that held a dense spark of ownership. There was not a single shred of guilt or regret on the mature CEO’s face. On the contrary, Garrick deliberately observed how Valera stood stiffly, as if thoroughly enjoying the fear that was currently torturing his young girl.

"Mr. Valentino ... was not a nuisance at all, Clary," Valera said, her voice sounding stiff and trembling to her own ears. She used the man’s last name with a formal emphasis she intentionally forced to rebuild the boundary wall between them. "He ... respected his boundaries very well."

Hearing Valera’s last sentence, the corner of Garrick’s lips twitched upward slightly, forming a very faint yet lethal smile. A signal of provocation that only Valera could catch.

"Of course. Valera is a guest at my villa, Clarissa. It was my duty to ensure she received exactly what she needed while the storm lasted," Garrick said in his heavy, calm baritone, dominating the atmosphere of the room with his absolute authority.

Every word that left the man’s lips sounded like a dark metaphor for what he had done to Valera last night.

"Why are you two being so stiff? It feels so strange seeing Papa use his CEO mode inside a holiday villa," Clarissa laughed softly, completely oblivious to the storm of s****l tension and guilt raging between the two people near her. She released her hug from Valera and walked toward the kitchen. "I brought a lot of food from town. I’ll prepare breakfast for the three of us."

As soon as Clarissa vanished behind the kitchen partition wall, a suffocating silence once again enveloped the living room.

Valera intended to immediately walk away to follow Clarissa into the kitchen, but before she could even swing her legs, Garrick moved with astonishing speed. The man cut off her path, standing right in front of Valera until the distance between them eroded drastically. Garrick’s tall, massive physical presence instantly caged Valera, forcing her to look up.

"Don't come any closer, Mr. Valentino," Valera whispered in a strained tone, her eyes glancing anxiously toward the kitchen. "Your daughter is right there."

Garrick did not step back even an inch. Instead, he leaned his body forward, letting his warm, mint-scented breath brush against Valera’s forehead. His large hand moved behind Valera’s body, resting against the wooden pillar supporting the room, locking her position with a terrifying, hidden dominance.

"Did you think that by acting formal and calling me by my last name, you could erase what happened on top of that bed, Valera?" Garrick whispered huskily, his voice so low it could only be heard by the two of them. His pair of gray eyes glinted densely, staring intensely at Valera’s slightly trembling lips.

"That was a mistake. Last night's storm made us crazy," Valera replied with a forced bravery, her hands clenching tightly at her sides to contain the rush of adrenaline. "From this exact moment on, there will be nothing more between us. I am Clarissa's best friend, and you are her father. That is the boundary line."

Garrick chuckled low, a raspy sound from deep within his chest that sent a terrifying yet intoxicating vibration through all of Valera’s nerves. The man lowered his face even deeper, until his lips nearly touched Valera’s flushing earlobe.

"You may draw thousands of boundary lines in front of my daughter, sweetheart," Garrick whispered with an absolute, threat-filled tone of possessiveness. "But we both know, I am the one holding control over that line. And once we return to New York, I will make sure you realize that you have already stepped too far to ever return."

Before Valera could reply, Garrick had already straightened his body back up with a perfectly graceful movement, right at the moment the sound of Clarissa’s footsteps was heard approaching once more from the kitchen.

Valera could only stand frozen with a wildly racing heart, realizing that the illusion of fragility she had tried to build this morning had completely shattered beneath the predator’s feet. This secret game had only just begun, and Valera knew, Valen Group in Manhattan would become the next cage Garrick had already prepared to confine her life.