Chapter 1 The Proposal
Valentina’s POV
I stare at Sterling-my boyfriend of six years-as though he’s grown a second head. “You want to do what?” My words land sharp in the air between us. Sterling, hands in his hair, paces the length of our tiny living room, tripping over his own nerves. He launches into an explanation-open relationship, maybe other women in our bed, “just to see.” His brown hair sticks out in frustrated tufts, and his restless eyes flicker over to me, measuring the full weight of my disbelief.
We’ve been together since we were sixteen, just a pair of awkward sophomores who grew up side by side. Sterling went from beanpole kid to six feet of broad-shouldered, swimmer-muscled man. I’ve changed too-my petite curves hard-won by hours at the gym and black belt sparring. We graduated from Dravara together. I have a Computer Science degree and a not-so-secret talent for hacking. Sterling’s got Economics and Business Management and the kind of charm that usually keeps things simple. But nothing about this is simple.
He’s still talking, spinning his pitch about “spicing things up,” “bringing us closer.” Did he forget last night, me in his lap on the drive home from the movies? How much closer can two people get-we live together, for God’s sake.
“So let me get this straight.” My voice is cold. “You want to sleep with other women and call it an open relationship, so it doesn’t count as cheating? Why not just end things, Sterling?”
His face folds in on itself, hopeful and pitiful all at once. “I don’t want to lose you. If we’re open, it isn’t cheating-if you agree. We can both have…options.”
He wants to have his cake and devour it too. I sit there, staring. Not enough, am I? Not attractive enough? Does he regret never being with anyone else? Does he wish I were different, less…me?
“I might consider a threesome,” I say at last, voice level, “but only if it’s with another man.”
He recoils, instantly defensive. “Absolutely not. I’m not touching another guy’s-no way.”
Of course. Double standards, right on cue. I roll my eyes. “How about this: we take a break. Six months. You do what you want, then maybe we talk.”
Sterling shakes his head, panic in his eyes. “No, Valentina. I don’t want to break up. I want us. I just- think about it. No threesomes. Just…hook up with others if we feel like it. Never at home. We text if we’re out all night. We keep feelings out of it, keep it quiet. No one has to know.”
I look at him, searching for any sign of the boy I used to know. “Why, Sterling? Why now? I thought we were good.”
He shrugs helplessly. “We’ve only ever been with each other. Aren’t you curious what else is out there?”
I whisper, stunned, “No. I’m not.”
He presses on, relentless. “Just try. It could be good for us.”
I stand, voice flat. “Do what you want, Sterling. But trust me, you’ll regret this.”
He tries for optimism. “Don’t say that. This will work out. You’ll see.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I disappear into our bedroom, where the evidence of my life with Sterling clings
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to every surface. I wrench open my closet and pull out the short, sleeveless red dress-the one that hugs every curve and leaves nothing to the imagination. Five-inch red heels come next; tonight, I’ll tower over my heartbreak. Let him see what he’s giving up.
Shower. Strawberry-scented soap. Razor gliding over skin-clean, bare, flawless. I blow-dry my hair, letting the waves tumble to mid-back, then sweep on war paint: dramatic liner, dark lashes, a bronzed shadow that makes my emerald eyes flash. Red lipstick-dangerous, unapologetic.
In the mirror, I recite my truth. “You are enough. There’s nothing wrong with you. He’s just having a quarter-life crisis at twenty-two. No negative thoughts. You are fire.”
I grab a black clutch, loading it with essentials-phone, ID, credit card, keys, $150 in cash. As I cross the living room, Sterling looks up.
“Where are you going?”
I don’t pause. “Starting our open relationship, Sterling. No time like the present to get…distracted.”
He looks stricken. “I didn’t mean right now-we just talked-”
I cut him off with a glare. “You made this bed, Sterling. Sleep in it.”
I leave our apartment, letting the door click behind me, and step into the night. I dial my sister as I walk, hearing raucous laughter on the other end.
“Hello?” Giuliana’s voice booms over the noise. She’s at work-the MC, home turf of the Steel Furies. “What’s up, Valentina?”
“I need you,” I say, my voice small but steady. “Right now. It’s important.”
Giuliana hesitates. “Babe, I’m at the clubhouse. You sure you want to come here? The Steel Furies will eat you alive.”
I stare into the dark street, the world wide open before me. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Seriously, Giuliana?” My voice rings out under the neon flicker of the streetlight, half exasperation, half challenge. I keep pacing, heels clicking against the city’s restless concrete. “You know I can handle myself. You know better than anyone, I won’t hesitate to put someone down, or put someone in the hospital if they lay a hand on me.”
Giuliana’s laughter cuts through the evening, rich with history. “Yeah, just like when you broke Thaddeus Ander’s nose our freshman year, right? Remember Dad’s face when he heard about it? That boy shouldn’t have tried to cop a feel if he wanted to keep his teeth.”
A dry laugh escapes me, filling the empty space around me with a small, sharp comfort. “Exactly like that. I mean it, Giuliana. So… will your biker brothers care if I show up tonight? Am I going to walk in and start a war?”
Her voice softens, the bravado melting into sisterly pride. “No war, Vale. Are you kidding? You’ll be the talk of the club. It’s party night-hell, you might even steal their attention from the bikes. I’ll text the President, let him know you’re coming. Just tell me you went all out tonight, yeah?”
I smile, a wicked glint in my eye despite the knot in my stomach. “You have no idea. Sterling pushed every last button tonight. I’m out for blood. Or at least a little righteous chaos.”
She whistles, concern threading through the teasing. “Damn, Vale, what happened? You sound rough.”
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I hesitate, swallowing the raw ache in my chest. “It’s… a lot. I’ll explain everything when I get there. Just save me a shot. Or two.”
“Always. Baby sister, I got you. Get your ass here, and let’s raise hell.” She hangs up, her promise lingering in my ears, a lifeline in the night.
I slide my phone back into my clutch and take a slow, shuddering breath, letting my gaze drift over the endless flow of cars and faces. The city feels both endless and suffocating. I open the Uber app, thumb trembling as I type in the address. For a moment, I watch my reflection in a passing window- bold makeup, tight dress, hair perfectly curled-almost unrecognizable, like a mask I’ve chosen for
battle.
Waiting for my ride, doubts creep in, cold and persistent. Is Sterling right? Have we outgrown each other without realizing? Is love supposed to feel like comfort, or should it sting like jealousy, like longing for things I can’t even name? I wonder if he’s already scrolling through his contacts, texting someone, looking for excitement elsewhere. Was I ever enough? Or is this just how growing up with someone ends-two strangers in the same apartment, pretending they haven’t drifted miles apart?
The confidence I rehearsed earlier falters, slipping away like cheap perfume in the rain. I want Giuliana’s honesty, her steel. I want someone to tell me I’m not crazy, that this hurt is real. More than anything, I want to walk into that club and forget Sterling ever existed; even for a night.
The Uber arrives, headlights bright in the gloom. I force my posture taller as I approach the car, refusing to let any vulnerability show. The driver, a young guy with a cocky grin and sharp eyes, rolls down the window and scans me from head to toe.
“You sure this is where you want to go?” he asks, disbelief woven into every word. “Steel Furies Motorcycle Club. Most girls dressed like you steer clear of that side of town. Could be dangerous.”
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Did I ask for your opinion?” I snap, letting my irritation be my armor.
He chuckles, undeterred. “Fair enough. Just saying, if you change your mind-I get off at midnight. I know a few safer places for fun.”
His flirtation feels almost quaint, a relic from some other life. I give him a dismissive smile, not bothering to reply, and settle into the back seat. As the car pulls away, I watch the city blur past-liquor stores, bodegas, glowing signs promising miracles no one ever delivers. Each block puts more distance between me and my old life.
Half an hour later, the Uber slows outside a heavy iron gate, the club looming beyond it like a fortress. Engines rumble in the night, voices rise in drunken shouts, music pounds through concrete and steel. I pay the driver, ignoring the hopeful look he gives me, and step out into the world of smoke, gasoline, and sweat.
At the entrance stands a bouncer who could have been carved out of stone-short but thick, bald head glinting under the harsh lights, a single dagger-shaped earring swinging with every move. His shirt strains over his chest, and his boots leave muddy prints on the pavement. The “prospect” patch on his vest marks him as low on the food chain, but his stare is anything but timid.
“What can I do for you, little lady?” His voice is gravelly, almost a purr, but there’s a challenge underneath.
I square my shoulders, chin up. “I’m here for Giuliana,” I reply, cool and clear.
He pulls out a battered cell phone and dials, eyes never leaving mine. “Yo, Gia-got a fine piece of ass at the gate asking for you.” He listens, then hangs up, lips curling into a sly smile as he swings the gate wide.
“Go on, sweetheart. Don’t let the wolves bite.”
As I walk past, he makes exaggerated kissy noises, but I just smirk, tossing him a wink that says I won’t be rattled by anyone tonight. He laughs, a genuine, gruff sound, and for a second the tension in my chest loosens.
I stop in front of the club door-heavy, battered, covered in graffiti and faded stickers. I take a long, steadying breath, eyes closing for a beat as I gather myself. “Alright, Valentina,” I whisper. “Game face. Don’t let them see you break.” My hand is steady as I reach for the handle, heart pounding with fear and something dangerously close to excitement.
