Born to Rule, Destined to Destroy Novel 14

Chapter 14 They turned—a white race car purred up, sleek and bold. The window eased down, Valeria’s striking features framed in the driver’s seat, her confident gesture beckoning Javier aboard.
A rare, fleeting smile ghosted across Javier’s stern features, softening the granite of his usual stoicism. He stretched his long legs and eased into the passenger seat of Valeria’s white race car, the motion fluid, almost unguarded. Finch, his assistant, trailed behind—duty-bound despite the resentment simmering in his chest.
He reached for the door, fingers brushing the handle, only to find it locked. “Why’s it locked?” he asked, bewilderment creasing his brow.
Valeria turned, her expression serene yet edged with a blade of sarcasm. “Sorry, Mr. Finch—no room. You’ll have to find your own way back.”
Finch’s gaze flicked to the empty back seat, incredulity flaring. “It’s clearly free—how’s there no room?”
“Oh? Is it?” Her chuckle danced, light and taunting. “My car, my rules—I’d rather not have you in it. Problem?”
“How can you be so unreasonable?” Finch’s voice rose, frustration boiling over, his dislike for her sharpening with every word.
Javier’s low warning cut through. “Enough, Finch. You’ve disrespected Ms. Gordon—her refusal’s fair. Find your own ride and stop this scene.”
Rebuked, Finch’s hand fell from the handle, cheeks flaming with humiliation. Valeria pressed the accelerator, the car surging forward, her lips curling into a subtle, victorious smile as it left Finch in a swirl of dust.
He coughed, choking on the grit, wiping his face with a scowl. “That woman’s petty!” he muttered, the sting of her dismissal unprecedented—Javier’s aide, reduced to this. Yet as the dust settled, his anger shifted to confusion. Javier, ever aloof, had softened today—climbing into her car without hesitation, a man who shunned touch now at ease beside her. The anomaly gnawed at Finch until he shook it off, unwilling to unravel it further.
Inside the car, silence stretched, the hum of the engine a quiet pulse. Javier broke it, voice measured. “Finch’s impulsive—acts before he thinks. His conduct was poor; I should’ve reined him in. My apologies.”
“Alright,” Valeria replied, cool and clipped, brushing it aside. “Where do you live?”
“The Five-Star Building.”
She echoed it, recognition dawning slow. “The Ministry of Defense’s covert hub? You live there?”
Javier met her surprise with a knowing glance, eyes glinting with unspoken depths. “Ready for what’s next?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her tone was steel, a challenge wrapped in readiness, sunlight gilding her profile—radiant, arresting.
“Hold tight!”