Page 212 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
Scarlett blinked, her eyes presumably adjusting to the light after nearly an hour of being blindfolded. She glanced around the marble hall with its museum-quality paintings and priceless antique vases. Despite its opulence, it gave no hint as to the purpose or location of the building.
“Where are we?” she asked, her face a mosaic of confusion and intrigue.
My nerves sparked brighter as I reached for the gilded handles and opened the double doors. I stepped aside so she could enter, and my grin returned at her audible intake of breath.
“Scarlett,” I said. “Welcome to the Valhalla Club library.”
The Valhalla Club was an ultra-exclusive society for the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. It had chapters in every major city, and its London branch occupied one of the most splendid mansions in all of England. Every room looked like it belonged in Buckingham Palace, but the library?
The library was the most magnificent of them all.
I walked in after Scarlett and let the doors close with a quietwhooshbehind us. It was my second visit—the first had been when Sebastian brought me for a walk-through of the space so I could plan tonight’s date—but the interior never failed to awe me.
Soaring three stories to a massive, elaborately painted ceiling, the library was a wonderland of golden frescoes and leather-bound books. Crystal chandeliers cast the room in amber-hued light, and the main floor featured seven alcoves that separated the library’s impressive collection by category. A sweeping staircase spiraled up to the second and third floors, its steps cushioned with the same rich emerald carpet as the rest of the room.
Beside me, Scarlett took it all in with visible awe. “This is the mostbeautifulroom I’ve ever seen,” she breathed. “How did you…”
“Sebastian is a member, and he was happy to do me a favor—especially after Blackcastle’s recent wins.” The Laurent heir belonged to the New York branch, but as a descendant of one of Valhalla’s founding families, he held more sway than many of its other members. “But the library isn’t the surprise. It’s who’s here.”
I took her hand and pulled her toward one of the seven alcoves.
Her brow furrowed in obvious confusion as to why I would invite a third party to our anniversary night. “Who’s…” Hersentence trailed off again when we reached the alcove and she saw who was inside.
“No.” Scarlett stopped dead in her tracks. “Asher.You didn’t.”
Relief and amusement washed away the remnants of my nerves at her stunned expression. “You’ve always wanted to meet her. I figured tonight would be a good time, especially since she just released a new book.”
Inside the alcove, a striking woman with purple-black hair paused her conversation with her partner and rose from her seat behind a small table. A pile of books was stacked neatly on its polished surface. “Hi!” Her smile dazzled. “You must be Scarlett. I’m Isabella. Are you a hugger? I’m a hugger.”
Scarlett made a strangled noise when Isabella Valencia, her favorite author, came around the table to greet her with a big hug.
“Asher tells me it’s your six-month anniversary.” Isabella pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Congratulations. It’s a big milestone.”
“I—well, I mean, yes.” Scarlett finally found her voice. “Hi. I’m abigfan. I loved your latest book.”
“Oh, I’m glad! Thank you so much.” Isabella’s smile widened with genuine warmth. “Before we get to the signing, I want you to meet Kai, my fiancé.”
She winked at her partner, who stood next to the table with a wry smile.
He and Scarlett exchanged greetings before Scarlett’s gaze coasted to the stack of books on the table. “Wait. Signing?”
I took over explaining. “Isabella hasn’t done a UK tour yet, but I figured a personal meet and greet would be more fun than standing in line for hours anyway.” I gestured at the books. “I had special editions made of all her titles so she could sign them for you in person.”
I’d found a printer who could bind personal copies in hardcover with all the bells and whistles—foiling, fancy formatting, and a bunch of other features that went over my head but that the printer insisted Scarlett would love.
Judging by the glossy sheen that brightened Scarlett’s eyes, he’d been right. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“When Asher emailed me about doing this, it was a no-brainer,” Isabella said, rescuing Scarlett from her speechlessness. “I didn’t care that I had to fly here from New York. His idea was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Behind her, Kai frowned, looking insulted.
“Come.” Isabella hooked her arm through Scarlett’s and led her to the table. “Let’s get these books signed for you so you can enjoy the rest of your anniversary night with Asher. Which story is your favorite so far?”
While the women chatted, I went and stood next to Kai. We’d never interacted before, but I recognized him from various news stories as Kai Young, the CEO of a major media conglomerate. They owned dozens of news outlets in the UK, includingMatchandSports UK.
“It’s great of you to accompany Isabella here,” I said in an attempt to make conversation. “My team would’ve taken good care of her, but I think it’s lovely that you took the time to come with her.”
Not a lot of billionaire chief executives would take time away from work to join their fiancée for a personal book signing. Most of them wouldn’t do that for afullbook tour.