Hello Ms Valentine

Chapter 1

The movement of the red silk was less a sound and more an atmospheric ripple, announcing the presence of Ms. Lillian Valentine before she even fully entered the grand, hushed chamber of the hotel bar.




She was a symphony of contradictions, tall and commanding, with light brown hair that cascaded in carefully sculpted waves, catching the chandelier light. The dress, a masterwork of crimson, hung off one bare shoulder, its high-thigh slit revealing a length of leg that promised danger and allure. A shawl of ivory faux fur, thick and soft, was draped nonchalantly around her shoulders, offering a tantalizing suggestion of vulnerability while simultaneously cementing her status as untouchable royalty.



Lillian smiled, a subtle upturn of the lips that acknowledged the immediate shift in the room’s energy. The scent of expensive scotch and oud changed instantly as her own signature fragrance—a blend of jasmine and leather—asserted itself.



She was used to the second looks, the sudden straightening of ties, and the covert whispers. Tonight, the lobby was thick with older, successful businesspeople, the kind who spoke in terms of leverage and acquisition. She watched a trio discussing an imminent merger;



Lillian already knew the terms of the deal and the bitter rivalries behind it. Those secrets had been confessed to her, gasped out between desperate breaths in a room miles away, proving yet again that the most powerful men in the city often sought the deepest form of submission.


This was the dance she had been born to perform. Lillian viewed herself not as a purveyor of simple pleasure, but as an essential mirror to the truth—a necessary crack in the polished façade of high society.


She offered a safe space for her clients to articulate the desires that society labelled outrageous, the pressures that defined their public lives, and the vulnerability they desperately hid. Her office, or the occasional anonymous, luxurious hotel suite, became a sanctuary of safety, sexiness, and necessary, naughty fun.




As she moved across the marble floor—each step precisely calibrated—she saw a woman pause mid-sip of champagne, her expression a mix of envy and reluctant awe. Lillian knew that look well: the women who wished to be her, just as surely as the men wished to have her.



Tonight, however, her focus lay elsewhere. She skirted the main bar crowd and headed toward the glass doors leading to the outdoor terrace—a semi-private area overlooking the lit cityscape. She was meeting someone new, a late addition to her roster, someone new to the game entirely.



The air on the terrace was cooler, cleaner, carrying the faint, distant scent of the ocean. The space was sparsely populated with couples nursing martinis and conducting hushed, intense conversations.



Lillian reached the central railing and leaned against it, the silk rustling softly against the cool metal. She scanned the tables below, her eyes narrowing slightly as they locked onto a solitary figure seated at a small table bathed in the soft glow of a hidden lantern.



He was impeccably dressed, perhaps thirty-five, dark suit, expensive watch. But his posture betrayed the façade. He held his glass of whiskey too tightly, his gaze darting anxiously toward the entrance she had just used. He was early, but not confident; nervous, but trying desperately not to appear so. He hadn’t looked up yet, completely unaware of the scarlet silhouette observing him from above.



A slow, predatory smile curved Lillian’s lips, far wider than the polite acknowledgement she had offered the men in the lobby. This was her element. The thrill of anticipation, the quiet study of weak points, the calculation of the approach. She loved a challenge, and the palpable anxiety radiating off this new client promised a deep, rewarding hunt.



He was new prey, skittish and tense, waiting for a predator he knew was coming but couldn't yet locate.



Lillian pushed off the railing, the fur shawl slipping slightly down her arm. There was no need to rush. She knew precisely the moment to descend, the exact speed to walk, and the perfect inflection of her voice to ensure that when she finally stood before him, the hunt would be over, and the lesson would begin.



He waited for Ms. Valentine. He had no idea Lilly was already watching him from the shadows, already deciding the terms of his surrender.