One Night in Valeria - Chapter 10: Chapter 10
You are reading One Night in Valeria, Chapter 10: Chapter 10. Read more chapters of One Night in Valeria.
Gala Night, the Velarian conservatory. The Velarian Legacy Gala was no ordinary party.
It was a war in gowns and jewels.
The entire city’s elite had gathered beneath chandeliers the size of small cars, sipping champagne older than some countries, and pretending their family names didn’t come with bodies buried beneath them.
And in the heart of it all, walking up the marble steps beneath a thousand flashing lights…
Was her.
Jessica’s Gown was crimson. Deep blood-red silk, forbidden and unforgettable the same color Klara Hale wore the night she was exiled from Velaria. Off-shoulder with a sweeping neckline, long sleeves with sheer tulle embroidered in fire-gold thread. The back of the top is low and daring, with tiny velvet-covered buttons down to her waist.
She wore a skirt flowing like a storm, slit high enough to whisper danger.
Her mask gold-trimmed, feather-edged daring but elegant. Her hair swept into a braided crown, echoing royalty.
She didn’t mean to wear the exact color his mother warned her about.
But fate always had a flair for drama.
Inside the Gala, gasps followed her as she entered.
A ripple of scandal moved across the floor polite smiles turned sharp, voices lowered to poison.
And across the room, by the antique piano, Liam Velar turned at the sound of her name.
When he saw her…
He forgot how to breathe.
Her.
In red.
His pulse roared in his ears. Memories exploded behind his eyes another woman in that color, another night, another mistake.
She wore red, he had told Jessica.
The night everything ended. And now, here she was. The daughter of the one they ruined.
Wearing the color that cursed them all.
The dance..... he didn’t plan to approach her, he planned to leave.But her laugh small, sharp, real cut through the orchestra like lightning. And when Smith reached for her hand, Liam moved.
He was across the floor before the first beat of the waltz even started.
May I cut in? he asked, voice low, mask glittering.
Smith stiffened. Jessica turned slowly, surprised… but something flickered in her eyes.
Something like recognition.
I thought you didn’t want me here, she said.
I didn’t, Liam murmured. But now that you are… I can’t let anyone else touch you.They danced. Slow,controlled and magnetic.
Every movement pulled them closer. Every glance threatened to tear them apart.
The crowd watched, whispering.
“Isn’t that the Hale girl?”
“He’s breaking protocol.”
“She looks just like her mother…”
The Past Crashes In halfway through the song, Jessica faltered.
Flashes. The night in the hotel. His voice in the dark. His hands on her skin. The scent of him.
Her memory was returning in shards.
She stumbled.
Liam caught her, arms tight around her waist.
“It was you,” she breathed, eyes wide.
"Jessica"
That night. The hotel. The accident. You were Yes.
She pulled away. The song stopped. Silence bloomed.
And then gasps.The whispers turned sharp. Someone had removed her mask.
From behind.
And now, her face was known.
“That’s her.”
“The bastard child.”
“Hale’s blood.”
“Velar's scandal.”
Cameras clicked. Too late.The mask had fallen.
And so had the illusion of protection.
It was a war in gowns and jewels.
The entire city’s elite had gathered beneath chandeliers the size of small cars, sipping champagne older than some countries, and pretending their family names didn’t come with bodies buried beneath them.
And in the heart of it all, walking up the marble steps beneath a thousand flashing lights…
Was her.
Jessica’s Gown was crimson. Deep blood-red silk, forbidden and unforgettable the same color Klara Hale wore the night she was exiled from Velaria. Off-shoulder with a sweeping neckline, long sleeves with sheer tulle embroidered in fire-gold thread. The back of the top is low and daring, with tiny velvet-covered buttons down to her waist.
She wore a skirt flowing like a storm, slit high enough to whisper danger.
Her mask gold-trimmed, feather-edged daring but elegant. Her hair swept into a braided crown, echoing royalty.
She didn’t mean to wear the exact color his mother warned her about.
But fate always had a flair for drama.
Inside the Gala, gasps followed her as she entered.
A ripple of scandal moved across the floor polite smiles turned sharp, voices lowered to poison.
And across the room, by the antique piano, Liam Velar turned at the sound of her name.
When he saw her…
He forgot how to breathe.
Her.
In red.
His pulse roared in his ears. Memories exploded behind his eyes another woman in that color, another night, another mistake.
She wore red, he had told Jessica.
The night everything ended. And now, here she was. The daughter of the one they ruined.
Wearing the color that cursed them all.
The dance..... he didn’t plan to approach her, he planned to leave.But her laugh small, sharp, real cut through the orchestra like lightning. And when Smith reached for her hand, Liam moved.
He was across the floor before the first beat of the waltz even started.
May I cut in? he asked, voice low, mask glittering.
Smith stiffened. Jessica turned slowly, surprised… but something flickered in her eyes.
Something like recognition.
I thought you didn’t want me here, she said.
I didn’t, Liam murmured. But now that you are… I can’t let anyone else touch you.They danced. Slow,controlled and magnetic.
Every movement pulled them closer. Every glance threatened to tear them apart.
The crowd watched, whispering.
“Isn’t that the Hale girl?”
“He’s breaking protocol.”
“She looks just like her mother…”
The Past Crashes In halfway through the song, Jessica faltered.
Flashes. The night in the hotel. His voice in the dark. His hands on her skin. The scent of him.
Her memory was returning in shards.
She stumbled.
Liam caught her, arms tight around her waist.
“It was you,” she breathed, eyes wide.
"Jessica"
That night. The hotel. The accident. You were Yes.
She pulled away. The song stopped. Silence bloomed.
And then gasps.The whispers turned sharp. Someone had removed her mask.
From behind.
And now, her face was known.
“That’s her.”
“The bastard child.”
“Hale’s blood.”
“Velar's scandal.”
Cameras clicked. Too late.The mask had fallen.
And so had the illusion of protection.
End of One Night in Valeria Chapter 10. Continue reading Chapter 11 or return to One Night in Valeria book page.