CHAPTER NINE: Vale Corporation.
1661 Words
Camila’s POV
The taxi pulled up outside Claire’s downtown apartment building just as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.
I paid the driver with the little cash I had in my bag and stepped out, clutching the strap like a lifeline. My legs felt heavy as I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor.
Before I could even knock, the door flew open.
Claire stood there in her oversized pajama pants and a faded band t-shirt, her dark curls piled into a messy bun on top of her head.
“Oh my God…” she launched herself at me, wrapping me in a tight, fierce hug.
I melted into her embrace, the first real comfort I’d felt all day. She pulled back, holding me at arm’s length, her bright hazel eyes scanning my face with deep concern.
“Jesus, you look like you’ve been through hell,” she said, tugging me inside and locking the door. “Have you even eaten today?”
“I had coffee this morning.”
Claire narrowed her eyes. “That is not food.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You still need to eat something. You look pale.”
She didn’t give me a chance to argue.
Claire had always been like this. Loud and dramatic. But somehow, every bit of it came from a place of love.
“Sit,” she said as we entered her living room. No, wait — go shower and change first. I’ll throw something together in the kitchen.”
“Claire, you don’t have to—”
“Camila." She stopped and turned to face me. "I'm going to take care of you right now. That's what best friends do. Okay?"
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ‘yes, ma’am’ me.” She folded her arms. “Now go. Towels are in the usual place. And don’t disappear in there crying for an hour.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You weren’t planning to yesterday either.”
I couldn’t even argue with that.
I trudged to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. The familiar space felt like a lifeline.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Puffy eyes. Mascara smudged beneath them. Hair a tangled mess. I looked like I had been through a war.
Maybe because I had.
I turned on the shower and let the hot water wash away the night.
Not all of it. Some memories refused to disappear.
The steam filled the bathroom as I stood under the spray, letting it beat against my shoulders, trying to release the tension that had taken up permanent residence in my muscles.
By the time I stepped out, wrapped in one of Claire's soft robes, I felt slightly more human.
I found a soft oversized sweater and leggings laid out for me. They smelled freshly laundered. I changed quickly and padded barefoot back into the living room.
"There she is." Claire smiled approvingly. “You look better already. Still like you got hit by a truck, but you survived it”
I let out a small laugh. "Thanks?"
She pointed toward the couch.
“Sit.”
She had set up a small feast on the coffee table. Grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, fresh fruit, and two glasses of red wine. My stomach growled at the sight. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
We settled onto the couch, and I ate more than I expected to. Claire watched me with satisfaction, sipping her wine.
“Is it good?”
“So good,” I nodded.
“I swear, if I hadn’t forced you, you would’ve survived on tears.”
“I probably would’ve.”
“You are not allowed to make dramatic decisions on an empty stomach.”
“I’ll remember that,” I smiled.
“Good.”
For a few minutes, the only sounds were the quiet hum of her apartment and the distant noise of the city outside and the small, ordinary comfort of a warm meal that someone had made because they wanted to and not because it was expected of them.
When I finally set my spoon down, she quietly asked,
“So…”
I stared into my wine.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Start wherever it hurts the least.”
I took a long sip of wine. The warmth spread through my chest, loosening something in my throat.
Then I told her everything. About walking in on Alex and Vivian. The raw, ugly way they were together. The things they said about me. The public announcement. My mother’s fake fainting. My father’s cold ultimatum this morning. Alex showing up with flowers and zero remorse.
Claire's face went through several expressions—shock, disgust, rage, and finally proud delight when I described slapping Alex.
“That slimy, cheating bastard!” she hissed, refilling my wine glass. “And Vivian? Your own sister? I always knew she was fake as hell. That fake-sweet act while she was screwing your fiancé? I want to slap her too. And your parents…” She shook her head, eyes blazing. “Forcing you to take him back for a business deal? After what he did? That’s not family, Camila. That’s a corporation wearing human skin.”
I let out a long breath, staring into my wine. “I know. I think I’ve always known. But yesterday… it finally broke something in me. I don’t want to live like that anymore.”
Claire reached over and squeezed my knee. “Good. Because you deserve so much better. So what’s your plan? You’re not going back there, right?”
“Never,” I said firmly. “I want to live for myself now. No more trying to earn their approval. No more designing my life around what they want. I want to find a job where my work actually matters—where I get credit for what I do. I want to build something that's mine."
“A job?”
“Yes. A job. I can’t rely on the Stones anymore. My father wasn’t bluffing. I know he’ll freeze every account connected to me.”
Claire nodded slowly. "That sounds like a solid plan. Any ideas about where you want to work?"
“There's a company I've been following for a while. They do luxury developments. And their interior design division is amazing." I paused. “I couldn’t apply to it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was engaged. I thought my future was already decided.”
Claire rested her chin on her hand.
“Which company?”
"Vale Corporation."
Claire’s eyebrows shot up. “Vale Corporation? As in Aaron Vale’s company?”
I nodded, excitement flickering in my chest. “They have an open Senior Interior Designer position in their luxury development division. I checked their website this morning while I was waiting for the cab. Their new hotel projects look incredible — modern, bold, sustainable. It’s exactly the kind of creative freedom I’ve always wanted but never got at Stones Realty.”
Claire leaned back, swirling her wine with a thoughtful frown. “Okay… I’m not trying to kill your vibe, but I’ve heard things about that place. Aaron Vale is apparently ruthless. Like, cutthroat, terrifying genius level. People say he digs up dirt on every rival and destroys them without mercy. Laurent Holdings has been going after him for years, and he always comes out on top. The man is basically a corporate shark.”
I paused, surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s not just successful — he’s feared. Cold. Doesn’t tolerate bullshit. Some people call him brilliant. Others call him dangerous.” She shrugged. “But… their design projects are insane. They win awards left and right. If you’re looking for somewhere that will actually value your talent, it sounds perfect.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “As long as the CEO stays out of my way and lets me do my job, I don’t care how ruthless he is. I’ve dealt with worse. My own family tried to sell me off for a merger.”
Claire grinned, raising her glass. “That’s the spirit! f**k them. You’re talented as hell, Camila. Any company would be lucky to have you. Especially one with big budgets and big vision. You should apply tomorrow. I’ll help you update your portfolio tonight if you want.”
“Really?”
“Of course! We’ll make it impossible for them to say no.” She clinked her glass against mine. “To new beginnings. To telling toxic people to go f**k themselves. And to you finally choosing yourself.”
I clinked back, warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with the wine.
For the first time since everything exploded, I didn’t just feel broken. I felt… hopeful. Scared, yes. But hopeful.
Claire leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And if that Aaron Vale gives you any trouble, just tell him your best friend is crazy and has no problem showing up at his office with printed screenshots of every shady thing he’s ever done.”
I laughed, the sound coming easier this time.
“Thank you, Claire. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be fine,” she said softly, smiling. “But you don’t have to be. Not alone, anyway.”
We spent the rest of the evening going through my old designs, picking the strongest pieces, and drafting a new cover letter. Claire’s laughter and constant commentary kept the heaviness at bay. For a few hours, the pain of the last two days felt distant.
Tomorrow I would take the first real step toward my new life.
And no matter how ruthless Aaron Vale was rumored to be, nothing could be worse than the cage I had just walked out of.
- Writer
