Charlotte Royales
The evening air was crisp as Valeria stepped out of her car, smoothing down the fabric of her emerald-green dress. The Royales' estate loomed before her, grand and imposing as always, but tonight, it felt different. Tonight, she wasn't here for business or strategy—she was here for dinner
And not just any dinner.
Charlotte Royales had invited her.
The youngest of Ariana's granddaughters, Charlotte was a woman who had long since detached herself from the family's political machinations. A former model turned socialite, she had married Alfredo Hitchcock, a sharp-tongued journalist who cared more about scandal than inheritance. The two of them were an enigma—wildly successful, yet entirely uninterested in the Royales' empire.
Valeria had always liked Charlotte.
The door swung open before she could knock, revealing Charlotte herself, dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit, her golden hair cascading over one shoulder.
"Valeria!" she greeted, pulling her into a warm hug. "God, it's been too long. Come in, come in—Alfredo's just opened a bottle of wine that's probably worth more than my first car."
Valeria laughed as she stepped inside. "I wouldn't doubt it. How was your vacation?"
"Divine," Charlotte sighed, leading her toward the dining room. "Italy, then Greece. Sun, sea, and absolutely no thoughts about boardrooms or shareholders."
"Lucky you," Valeria smirked.
Alfredo stood by the table, pouring red wine into crystal glasses. He flashed Valeria a grin. "Ah, the infamous Valeria. I was starting to think Charlotte made you up."
"Oh, please," Charlotte rolled her eyes. "As if I'd fabricate someone this interesting."
Valeria took the offered glass, swirling the rich liquid before taking a sip. "So, Alfredo, any new scandals you're digging into?"
He smirked. "Always. But nothing as juicy as the Royales' latest drama."
Charlotte groaned. "Don't even start. I left for two months and came back to Leon nearly tanking a merger because he refused to sit in the same room as—" She stopped, glancing at Valeria.
Valeria raised a brow. "As…?"
Charlotte exhaled. "As you.
A beat of silence. Then Valeria laughed, though it lacked real amusement. "Ah. So nothing's changed."
"Not a damn thing," Charlotte muttered. "Grandmother must be losing her patience."
Alfredo leaned forward. "I've been dying to ask—why you, Valeria? Of all people, why did Ariana choose you to run things until Leon gets his act togethe'r, because I know Leon will be the successor
Valeria took another sip, considering her answer. "Because I don't want the throne."
Charlotte smirked. "Exactly. And that's what makes you dangerous."
---
Later that night, in Ariana's study
The fire crackled softly in the hearth as Valeria sat across from Ariana, the older woman's sharp eyes studying her with quiet intensity.
"You've done well," Ariana said finally. "Better than I expected."
Valeria tilted her head. "Did you doubt me?"
Ariana's lips curved slightly. "No. But I know my grandson. He isn't… easy."
Valeria exhaled. "That's an understatement."
Ariana leaned forward, her voice lowering. "Do you remember what I told you when we first met?"
Valeria stilled. The memory flashed in her mind—Ariana's piercing gaze, the weight of her words.
You will help me shape him.
"Of course I remember," Valeria murmured.
Ariana nodded. "Good. Because I think you're already affecting him."
Valeria hesitated. "He still hates me."
"Hate is not indifference," Ariana countered. "And Leon does not ignore what he doesn't care about."
Valeria swallowed.
Ariana reached across the desk, taking Valeria's hand in hers. The touch was firm, deliberate. "When the time comes… you will have to step aside for him."
Valeria met her gaze steadily. "I know."
"Do you?" Ariana searched her face. "This family… it changes people. Power is a poison, and many have drowned in it."
"I don't want power," Valeria said softly.
Ariana smiled. "I know. That's why I chose you." She paused. "You're ambitious, but not greedy. Strong, but not cruel. You are everything he needs."
Valeria's chest tightened.
Ariana sighed. "But I fear he will never see it."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Valeria stood. "Is there anything else?"
Ariana's gaze sharpened. "Yes. Leon returns to work on Monday. You will be the one to guide him."
Valeria stiffened. "He won't like that."
Ariana's voice was steel. "I don't care."
Valeria exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Fine."
As she turned to leave, Ariana's voice stopped her one last time.
"Valeria."
She glanced back.
Ariana's expression was unreadable. "Don't let him break you."
Valeria smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I won't."
And with that, she walked out—steeling herself for the storm that was coming.