Page 36 of Hunted By Valentine

So why is Michael so angry? He wanted me to make Valentine happy, didn’t he? Yes, he told me that outright. This is becoming so confusing.

A rustle of fabric startles me. Carolina emerges from behind the curtain, her blue eyes wide. “Ruby,” she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “That was… unexpected.”

I brace myself for her usual barbed comments, but what comes next catches me off guard.

“It was actually really moving,” Carolina continues, a hint of admiration in her tone. “I never thought you had it in you.”

Studying her face, I search for signs of mockery, but find none. “Thanks,” I manage, unsure how to navigate this unfamiliar territory between us.

Carolina shifts uncomfortably, clearly as thrown by this moment as I am. “Look, I know we’re not exactly friends, but… that took guts. And your words about lifting others up? They hit home. Willow would have liked that speech.” Her voice cracks as she mentions her sister.

A thick silence settles between us, heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. For once, there’s no snark, no sharp-tongued retort from her. Just pain—raw and real. I feel my throat tighten as I glance away, trying to gather my thoughts. What do I say to that? What can I say?

“She would’ve liked that,” Carolina repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. This new, tenuous connection between us feels surreal, like a soap bubble that might burst at any moment.

“She... she always believed in doing good, even when it wasn’t convenient,” Carolina continues, folding her arms around herself, suddenly seeming smaller. “It was something I never quite understood.”

I swallow hard. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” She shakes her head, a bittersweet smile curling at the edges of her lips. “I just wanted you to know that you surprised me tonight, Ruby. In a good way.”

I don’t know what to say. For so long, I’ve worn the armor of bitterness, resentment, and guilt around her. But at this moment, it feels like a truce is being offered. A small one, but a truce nonetheless.

“How did it feel?” Carolina asks, genuine curiosity in her voice. “To have all those people listening to you?”

I swallow hard, considering my answer. “Terrifying,” I admit. “Exhilarating. Like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fly or fall.”

Carolina’s lips quirk into a small smile. “I think you flew, Ruby. Even if just for a moment.”

Giving a speech like that wouldn’t be a big deal to some people, but it’s monumental for me. It’s one of the few things I’ve ever done of my own accord, because I wanted to. So the sincerity in her words catches me offguard, and I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. But then I blink them away, not wanting to show weakness.

“Thank you,” I whisper, meaning it more than I ever thought I could.

Carolina nods, the moment of vulnerability passing. She straightens, her usual demeanor returning. “Well, don’t let it go to your head,” she says, but there’s no real bite to her words.

I watch her as she walks away.

Before the curtain can fall back into place, Michael pushes through it. “Ruby.” His tone is sharp, demanding. I flinch involuntarily, all too familiar with that sound, that expectation of immediate obedience.

His face is set in a stony mask of rage, the edges of his smile twitching with barely contained fury.

“You embarrassed me out there,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his hand clamping down on my wrist with enough force to bruise. “You think you can just prance up there and make a fool of me? In front of all these people?”

I feel the familiar stir of panic rising in my chest, but I force it down, meeting his eyes. “It was just a speech,” I argue.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing my ear in a way that makes my skin crawl. “You’ll pay for this later,” he whispers, his breath hot and venomous. “You’ve been getting a bit too comfortable, haven’t you, Mrs. Simmons? If you’re not careful, you’ll forget who you belong to.”

My pulse quickens. Every inch of me screams to push him away, but I stand still. “How could I ever forget?” I hiss. “I didn’t make a fool of you, Michael. I showed my support, which is what any good wife would do.” I don’t know where the words come from, or what has inspired the fire in my chest that demands I stand my ground.

Another two people come through the gap in the curtain, their presence saving me from having to endure the consequences of my outburst.

The first one, a woman, smiles widely at us, and her presence is enough to diffuse the moment like a burst of fresh air. “Michael!” It’s one of the event organizers, dressed in a sleek black gown. “Congratulations, Mrs. Simmons’ speech was a hit. We’ve raised even more than expected for the cause.”

Michael straightens up, his mask of charm snapping back into place as he turns to her. “Right? I knew my wife would be the perfect addition to the lineup,” he says. My skin pricks with irritation as he takes credit for my performance. “Did you need my help with anything?”

She mutters something in response, and the two of them quickly excuse themselves. I’m left alone with the second person that came through; Valentine.

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