(VALENTINO'S POV)
The room's quiet.
Just her slow breathing against my chest, soft and steady, matching mine. Her head rests right over my heartbeat, one leg draped across my waist, her skin warm against mine. She's tracing lazy little circles on my chest with her finger, and every pass of it sends these weird, electric ripples through me.
You'd think after what just happened, my mind would shut up for a while.
But it doesn't.
It keeps replaying his voice.
"I should've smothered you the moment you were born."
That shit doesn't just leave you.
"Val?"
Krystal's voice pulls me out of it. I hum in response, eyes still on the ceiling.
"What was that phone call about?"
I stiffen a little. "It's nothing," I mutter. "I don't wanna talk about it."
She shifts, lifting her chin off my chest. "Come on," she says softly. "It's definitely not nothing if it riled you up like that."
I shake my head. "No, Krystal. Just… drop it, yeah?"
She pouts a little, that sweet, coaxing kind of pout that makes it hard to stay guarded. "Come on, just tell me. Please?"
I drag a hand down my face, groaning. "Okay. Fine."
Silence stretches between us. I stare at the ceiling for a few more seconds before taking a slow, deep breath and meeting her eyes.
"My father hates me."
Her expression softens instantly, the teasing gone. "Why would you say that?"
I let out a humorless laugh. "Because it's true. All I've ever wanted was for him to look at me and say, 'Good job, son' or 'Valentino, I'm proud of you', but that's never happened. Doesn't matter what I do—it's never enough. I built this club from nothing. I run half a dozen other joints that rake in millions every month. But to him? I'm still the irresponsible kid who'll never measure up to his expectations."
She doesn't say anything at first. Just listens. Her eyes, steady on mine, don't have that pity I hate—they have understanding. Real understanding.
I take her hand and start playing with her fingers, needing something to keep my hands busy. "But it's fine. I try not to let it get to me."
She tilts her head slightly. "It clearly got to you, though."
I look up, caught off guard.
She smiles faintly. "That's why you used me as your outlet."
I blink, then let out a quiet chuckle. "You're not mad about that, are you?"
She shakes her head. "Mad? No." Her grin grows. "I've never been fucked that good in my life. I came so many times, I lost count," she laughs. "Why the hell would I be mad?"
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Well I'm glad you liked it."
"Like is an understatement," she replies. "I fucking loved it."
For a while, neither of us says anything. I just look at her, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, how the light hits her eyes.
She catches me staring and narrows her eyes playfully. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
My lips curl into a slow smile. "Because I really like you."
"Oh?" she says, her eyebrows lifting.
"Yeah," I nod, still smiling.
She smirks. "And what exactly do you like about me?"
I think about it for a second. "Well you're daring. Fearless. And feisty as hell. When I watched you kick that guy's ass the other night, I swear… it felt like love at first sight."
She bursts out laughing, slapping my chest lightly. "Get outta here."
I laugh too, the sound filling the room and washing away whatever weight was left in my chest. When the laughter fades, I just look at her for a moment, catching my breath. And that's when I realized my chest felt much lighter.
She took something that was eating me alive and made it disappear. Just like that.
"I meant it, you know," I say, my voice softer this time. "I really like you."
A faint blush colors her cheeks, and I can't help but smile wider.
A thought crosses my mind, and I don't think twice about it because it just feels right.
"Krystal."
"Yeah?"
"I wanna ask you something." I say, sitting up.
She tilts her head, grin stretching from ear to ear. "What?"
"Go out with me."
Her smile falters for half a second, caught between surprise and something else I can't name.
She blinks. "What?"
I grin. "A date. With me. What do you say?"
She laughs a little. "A date?" she repeats, like she's trying to make sure she heard right. Her fingers trace a slow line down my chest. "You mean… outside this bed?"
I grin. "That's usually how dates work."
She stares at me for a second, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. "You sure you can handle me when I'm wearing clothes?"
"Guess we'll find out," I say.
Her expression softens, the teasing fading just a little. "Alright, Valentino," she says quietly. "One date."
Then she leans in close, her voice making me shiver as she whispers against my ear. "But don't expect me to play nice."