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She shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t interrupt.
"I got my hands dirty," I continue. "Even bloody at times. I learned how to use gossip to my advantage, how to manipulate situations to get what I wanted."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she says nothing.
"I knew exactly when to cash out," I say, a bitter edge creeping into my tone. "Right before a business was busted or lost everything. It was a game of high stakes and higher risks."
"That sounds... dangerous," she says quietly.
"It was," I admit. "But it was the only way to build something from nothing. The only way to make sure I’d never be powerless again."
She looks down at her hands, processing my words. "So you are a war profiteer," she murmurs.
"Exactly," I reply. "And it paid off. But it left its mark."
She glances up at me, her eyes searching mine for something—perhaps honesty, perhaps remorse.
"And now?" she asks softly.
"Now?" I echo, feeling the insecurity behind her question. "Now I want to use what I've built to make a difference here on Armstrong."
Ariana studies me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright," she says finally.
It's not full acceptance, but it's a start. And for now, it's enough.
"Thank you for telling me," she adds, her voice softer.
"You deserved to know," I say simply.
We fall into silence, shared truths hanging between us like an unspoken pact. For once, it feels like we’re standing on even ground—both scarred by our pasts but looking toward a future that might just be worth fighting for.
As I look into her eyes, I realize the weight of my confession. She might think worse of me for admitting my faults, and that thought gnaws at me.
"Ariana," I say, my voice low but steady. "No matter what I've done in the past, my business now is honest. All I want is to build Armstrong into something great, and to protect you."
Her eyes soften slightly, but I can still see the doubt lingering there.
"And more than anything," I continue, stepping closer and taking her hand in mine, "I want you by my side. I want to learn about your dreams, support them. You deserve that much."
She blinks rapidly, her guard momentarily slipping. "You... you really mean that?"
"I do," I say firmly. "Every word."
Ariana moves closer and wraps her arms around me in a warm embrace. Her head rests against my chest, and I can feel the rapid beat of her heart. I hold her tightly, relishing the closeness.
But there's a hint of stiffness in her embrace—a shadow of doubt she can't quite shake off.
"Valen," she murmurs against my chest, "it's just... it's hard to reconcile everything. The rumors, your past... It's a lot."
"I understand," I reply softly. "But I'll prove myself to you. One step at a time."
The evening stretches on, a quiet bubble of intimacy around us. I light a few candles, their flickering light casting warm shadows on Ariana's face. She looks beautiful, ethereal almost, and I feel an overwhelming urge to protect her.
"Do you ever get tired of all this?" she asks, breaking the silence. "The wealth, the parties, the constant vigilance?"
I chuckle softly. "More than you know. It's all a game, really. A tiring one."
She raises an eyebrow. "Then why play it?"
