The Unrivalled Return Of Lord Valerian

CHAPTER 3 - ONLY WAY HOME

Valerian froze on the spot.

For half a heartbeat he simply stood there, the words still hanging in the air between them.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, searching her face for the joke or the punchline that would make the sentence make sense.

Before he could gather a reply, Minerva closed the distance between them, boldly leaning to his chest.

The contact was sudden but warm. Valerian’s body already reacted before his mind caught up: his muscles locking, senses sharpening to every point of pressure, goosebumps prickling his skin despite the heat.

Gently, he caught her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back.

"Excuse me,” he said, taking a step back. "I think we should clarify things first. Because right now, none of this makes sense to me."

If Minerva was offended by the retreat, she didn't show it. Instead, she reached out and lifted his hand by the wrist, turning it so the black ring on his finger caught the light.

"This ring is a token left behind by your master," Minerva said.

"Years ago, your master saved my grandfather's life. Pulled him out of something my family still doesn't speak of at dinner. From that day, he became the quiet hand behind everything the Vallencourt Group is now."

"Okay...?" Valerian frowned, staring readily impatient. "And where did marriage come in?"

"My grandfather swore an oath that the head of our family would unite with his chosen successor," Miverva paused, her smile never leaving her face. "He had chosen you, Valerian."

Realization slowly dawned on Valerian, and suddenly, the man’s cryptic words about a surprise awaiting him outside the cell began to make sense. This was it.

He almost laughed. Of course it was.

He looked at Minerva properly for the first time — really looked. And he would have been lying to say he felt nothing standing this close to her.

She was the kind of beautiful that made men forget their own names. But his wife's face was still fresh in his mind, her voice still ringing in his ears, and somewhere across the city his mother was dying in a house that no longer wanted her.

This wasn't exactly the right time for a marriage proposal.

"Now, I get it," he said finally. "But, I'm sorry, this isn't exactly the right time. Marriage can wait."

The words came out flatter than he meant it to. Almost like a rejection. And he watched, almost in slow motion, as it landed on her wrongly.

"Excuse me?" The assistant stepped forward before Minerva could even react, outrage blooming instantly across her face. "What did you mean not right now?

"Do you understand who you're speaking to? Madam Gentry runs an empire that spans four continents. Board members, foreign dignitaries, and billionaire heirs queue for months just to secure ten minutes of her time. You walk out of a prison gate looking like a street vagrant, and you have the audacity to speak to her like she's begging for your favor? You aren't even worthy to wipe her shoes, let alone hold an engagement!"

"Reyna," Minerva called quietly. "That's enough."

"It's not enough, Madam. He hasn't even said thank you. He doesn't know what is being offered to him." Reyna turned back to Valerian, lip curling. "Do you have any idea what door has just opened for you? And you're already trying to close it."

"I never said I was closing anything," he said evenly. "I said it could wait."

But to Minerva, standing there absorbing his rejection with her chin lifted and her pride visibly bruising, it hadn't sounded like wait. It had sounded like no.

"You should be thanking whatever god you pray to that you're even standing here—" Reyna continued

Minerva stepped closer again, but this time almost like a dare. As if she needed to prove to herself, and to him, that his hesitation meant nothing at all, but then she slipped.

Valerian's hand shot out before he could think better of it, catching her wrist mid-step.

His expression changed instantly.

"Wait," he said, voice suddenly low and urgent. "Don't move like that."

Minerva blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your body," he said, eyes narrowing as though reading something written beneath her skin. "Something's wrong. Your pulse is uneven — there's a tremor in your left hand you're hiding, and your breathing catches every fourth or fifth breath, like something in your chest doesn't have room to expand properly."

"How—" She pulled her wrist back instantly, staring at him alarmingly. "Are you a doctor?"

"No." Valerian answered plainly.

"Then how could you possibly—" She paused, searching his face for something.

"I don't need a medical degree to read a broken rhythm. Ashraven Degenerative Syndrome, most likely. A glance at your skin tone and a second of physical contact is more than enough."

Reyna opened his mouth to scoff, to accuse him of some cheap trick, but the words died when she saw her employer's face.

Minerva had gone pale. Her pupils dilated in shock.

For four years, Minerva had been secretly suffering from Ashraven Degenerative Syndrome, a terrifyingly rare, hidden ailment that slowly crystallized the deep blood vessels around her chest and vital organs.

Top international medical specialists, cutting-edge facilities, and multi-million-dollar experimental therapies had all failed to even detect it during her early stages, taking years of agonizing tests just to identify the named nightmare.

"As expected of his disciple," Minerva murmured to herself, her breath catching in her throat as a sharp thrill of awe replaced her initial annoyance.

Her interest in Valerian instantly deepened past family obligation—he was an absolute enigma.

"Why haven't you had it treat? It's dangerous." Valerian said, genuine concern laced his voice as apparent as it was in his eyes.

"This is a condition so rare, it can only be found in one of five hundred million people. There is no cure," Minerva explained plainly, and she sounded as though she had already made peace with her fate.

"No," Valerian tilted his head back as though wondering what incompetent doctor had told her that. "It is treatable. I can cure it."

The word 'cure' struck Minerva like a bolt of thunder, her lips parting in disbelief. "You can?"

A spark of wild, desperate hope reignited inside her chest, burning away years of dark resignation.

For a long time she had already given up on surviving. Her only remaining wish had been to fulfill the family obligation through the marriage arrangement and then die without becoming a further burden.

Now this so-called ex-convict fiancé might actually become her savior.

"Of course, I can." Valerian replied casually. "But not right now. I have urgent matters to settle regarding my mother and my sister."

"Oh—? Let me accompany you then," she offered, pleadingly. “I can drive you there and help handle your family matters. Resources. Access. Protection if needed. You just came out of the worst prison, you'll need it."

​"No, that won't be necessary." Valerian cut her off cleanly, holding up a hand. "This is family business. I need to clear the garbage myself. Once I'm done, I'll come find you."

Minerva searched his eyes, seeing a fierce, unyielding pride that told her pressing further would not change anything.

She took a soft breath and nodded. "Fair enough."

She turned to Reyna who was standing frozen in complete shock, unable to comprehend why her formidable boss was yielding so completely to a former prisoner. "Reyna, the card."

​"Ma'am?" Reyna blinked, stunned. "You mean... the Midnight Onyx?"

​"Give it to me. Now."

​Reluctantly, Reyna pulled a sleek black card from her leather portfolio and handed it over.

Minerva took it and pressed it firmly into Valerian's palm. There was no number or name inscribed on it—only a polished silver Vallencourt crest.

​"This is the Black Card of the Vallencourt Group," Minerva explained softly.

"There are only three in existence. It grants you unrestricted executive power, endless funds, and immediate VIP authority across every hotel, property, and subsidiary under my name. If I can't come with you, that should do."

Today was the day the Vallencourt Group was finalizing its primary investment partner list in the city, an event that required her personal presence to control the vultures waiting in the boardroom.

She needed to handle the corporate sharks before she could give Valerian her undivided attention.

Minerva then took out a small card with a handwritten number and handed it over to him. “My private line."

​Minerva stepped up to the door of her vehicle, but before slipping into the backseat, she paused. Turning her head, a teasing, strikingly beautiful smile played on her lips.

​"Don't keep me waiting too long, husband," she purred softly, her eyes flashing with a playful challenge. "I'd hate to have to come hunting for you."

​Valerian offered a simple, steady nod. "I won't."