Selling the Past

Valerie set down her porcelain cup and picked up the bill from the edge of the mahogany table, settling the tab with a flick of her card before the waiter stepped away. She had booked a private dining room on the second floor of the restaurant to host Sabrina and the luxury goods appraiser Sabrina had brought along. The meal was nearing its end, and the appraiser excused himself from the room to use the restroom, leaving the heavy oak door to click shut behind him.

Sabrina leaned across the white tablecloth, her eyes wide with worry. "Why are you suddenly getting rid of your bags? When you texted me this morning, I thought you were just clearing out a closet."

"I need money," Valerie said, taking a sip of warm water.

Sabrina stared at her in disbelief, scanning Valerie’s calm face for any hint of humor. "Did your dad cut you off because you broke things off with Desmond? Is that why you are strapped for cash? If you are short on funds, tell me. I can write you a check right now. You do not have to sell your collection. Those bags took you years to gather. Even if you never wear them, they look gorgeous sitting on the shelves."

Valerie smiled faintly, touched by the genuine warmth in Sabrina's voice. "There is no point in keeping them around."

Sabrina slumped back against the cushioned seat, letting out a heavy breath. To her, handbags were armor and status, and watching her best friend liquidate them felt like watching an empire crumble under pressure. "Have you heard the rumors floating around town lately? People cannot stop talking about it. While you were away over the last six months, Vanessa wormed her way into Desmond’s circle. Tobias, Dominic, all of them treat her like one of the group now."

Valerie kept her eyes lowered, watching the ripples in her glass.

Sabrina leaned forward again, her voice tight with second-hand outrage. "Desmond spoils Vanessa rotten. The man cannot stand flowers. He gets severe pollen allergies and hives, but he put on a medical mask and carried a massive bouquet of white roses straight to her studio. At the charity auction last week, he did not just buy jewelry for Vanessa. He bid millions on rare ink paintings for her father, antique tea sets for her grandmother, and an imported sports car for her little brother. The entire city is calling him the ideal boyfriend."

Valerie paused, a quiet irony settling in her chest. During their previous life together, Desmond had been a statue carved from winter frost. He had never brought home a single petal, claiming romance was a waste of time and energy. Whenever she planned an anniversary dinner, he would skip it for a board meeting without offering an apology. It turned out he was entirely capable of romance; he simply had never cared enough to waste it on her.

Sabrina bit her lip, her tone turning bitter. "Why did you have to stay abroad for six months, Val? If you had stayed here in Cresthaven, Vanessa never would have had the chance to slip into your spot. Everything Desmond is handing to her on a silver platter should have been yours. You would not be sitting in this restaurant right now, forced to sell off your favorite things just to get by."

Valerie looked down at the crisp white tablecloth, her expression unreadable.

In her past life, she had not left. She had stayed right beside him, screaming herself hoarse in grand ballrooms and private parlors, trying to claw back the man she loved. She had fought Vanessa in public, desperately pleading with Desmond to open his eyes, reminding anyone who would listen that she was the one who had dragged his drowning body out of the freezing ocean water.

Nobody had believed her. Desmond had looked at her with cold disgust, branding her a jealous, hysterical harpy who made a mockery of his name. She had burned her pride, her youth, and her sanity in that furnace, only to end up with a broken spirit and a hollow grave. Now that fate had dragged her back to the starting line, she had no intention of repeating the tragedy. If Vanessa wanted Desmond and his toxic orbit, she was welcome to take him.

Valerie looked up, meeting Sabrina’s distressed gaze with steady eyes. "It is fine. I do not care about him anymore."

Sabrina sighed, clearly thinking Valerie was merely putting on a brave front to protect her wounded pride. Before Sabrina could protest further, the appraiser walked back into the room, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Ladies, I am ready whenever you are," the appraiser said, offering an eager smile. "Shall we head down to the garage and take a look at the merchandise?"

"Let us go," Valerie said, rising from the table.

The evening air was sharp and cold outside, so Valerie slipped into her long wool coat, pulled a soft white knit beanie low over her ears, and wound a thick cashmere scarf around her neck, covering her jaw and mouth.

They stepped out into the hallway and made their way toward the central staircase. Halfway down the corridor, Sabrina stopped and patted her coat pockets with a gasp. "Wait, I left my phone on the table. You two head down first. I will catch up in two minutes."

Valerie nodded as Sabrina hurried back toward the private room.

Valerie and the appraiser continued toward the grand staircase that led to the ground floor. As they reached the middle landing, a small group began climbing the steps toward them, led by the restaurant's general manager, who bowed repeatedly as he guided them up.

Desmond walked at the front of the group, wearing a dark charcoal suit beneath an open overcoat. Beside him was Vanessa, dressed in a pastel designer dress, her hand resting lightly near Desmond's arm as she laughed at something he said.

The luxury appraiser walking in front of Valerie recognized Desmond instantly. Working in the high-end resale market in Cresthaven meant knowing the faces of the city's wealthiest elites. The moment the appraiser saw the head of the Bancroft Group, his professional instinct kicked in. He stepped aside against the brass railing, bowing his head respectfully to let the VIPs pass.

The staircase was narrow. Because the appraiser had a tall, broad frame, his posture created a physical barrier that blocked Valerie from Desmond's line of sight.

Valerie paused behind the appraiser, her chin tucked into her heavy scarf, her gaze fixed neutrally on the polished marble steps. She did not flinch, nor did she attempt to look at Desmond.

Desmond walked past without turning his head, his sharp profile cold and composed, his attention focused entirely on the manager showing them the way. Vanessa followed close beside him, the hem of her silk skirt brushing past the appraiser's trousers.

Tobias trailed a few steps behind the couple, hands shoved into his pockets. As he reached the landing, his sharp gaze caught a glimpse of the slender figure wrapped in the cream wool coat and white knit beanie behind the appraiser. Tobias frowned slightly, recognizing the posture and the distinct line of Valerie's back. He parted his lips to speak, intending to tell Desmond that Valerie was standing right behind them, but the thought died on his tongue. Desmond had made it clear he did not want to hear her name, and Tobias had no desire to spoil the evening. He swallowed his words and continued up the stairs.

Once the group disappeared around the corner of the upper landing, Valerie exhaled quietly and walked down the remaining steps into the front foyer.

The appraiser wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as they waited near the glass entrance doors. "Did you see that group just now? The man in front is Desmond Bancroft, the head of Bancroft Group. Media outlets used to speculate he had no interest in women because he was never seen with anyone. Looks like those rumors were wrong. He clearly has a girlfriend now."

Valerie watched the winter traffic through the tall windows. "Good for him."

Before the appraiser could answer, the glass doors swung open. Dominic Rowland stepped into the foyer, his dark coat dusted with a few flakes of cold mist.

Valerie and Dominic caught each other's eyes across the marble floor. Both paused for a fraction of a second. Dominic did not speak, but his lips curved into a polite, respectful smile as he dipped his head toward her in greeting. Valerie returned the nod with equal calm.

Dominic walked past toward the private dining suites without interrupting her.

The appraiser stood frozen, his eyes bulging as he watched Dominic walk away. Dominic Rowland was the head of Rowland Group, a business titan who rarely gave strangers the time of day, yet he had just treated this young woman with undeniable deference.

The appraiser swallowed hard and turned to Valerie. "You know Mr. Rowland?"

"We run in similar circles," Valerie replied.

The appraiser hesitated, suddenly aware of how little he knew about Sabrina's friend. "If you do not mind me asking, what does your family do?"

"My father is Richard Ellsworth," Valerie said evenly. "He runs Ellsworth Group."

The appraiser sucked in a sharp breath, his spine straightening in shock. The Ellsworth Group, the Bancroft Group, and the Rowland Group formed the three massive pillars of Cresthaven's economy. Even top municipal officials treated their chairmen with utmost respect. To think he had been casually treating a billionaire heiress like an ordinary client selling old accessories was humbling.

"My apologies, Miss Ellsworth," the appraiser murmured, bowing his head slightly. "I had no idea."

Footsteps clicked on the marble behind them as Sabrina hurried over, clutching her phone. "Got it! Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's go check out the bags before my fingers freeze off."

The three of them walked out into the chilly night and headed down the ramp into the underground parking garage. Valerie led them toward a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom parked under the fluorescent lights.

Sabrina raised an eyebrow as Valerie reached for the key fob. "You drove Nolan's car today?"

"My sedan was too small," Valerie said, unlocking the vehicle. "This trunk holds a lot more."

Valerie pressed the trunk release button. The heavy lid lifted smoothly, and the bright overhead LED trunk light illuminated the interior.

Sabrina gasped, taking a step back.

She had assumed Valerie was selling two or three bags that were taking up space in her closet. Instead, the cavernous trunk was packed wall-to-wall with bright orange boxes and immaculate dust bags. More than thirty Hermès bags sat in perfect rows, ranging from classic Birkins and Kellys in pristine Epsom and Togo leathers to ultra-rare, limited-edition exotic skins with palladium and gold hardware.

"Valerie," Sabrina whispered, clutching her friend's sleeve. "Are you really selling all of these?"

Valerie looked at the collection that had once symbolized her desperate need to fit into Desmond's elite world. "Out with the old, in with the new."

The appraiser’s eyes shone with pure professional greed. The moment he learned Valerie was Richard Ellsworth's daughter, he knew every single item was authentic. Still, he slipped on a pair of white cotton gloves and carefully inspected the handles and corners of the nearest crocodile Birkin. The leather was flawless; most of the bags had never even been taken out of their protective boxes.

"Miss Ellsworth, this is the finest private collection I have seen all year," the appraiser said, his voice trembling with excitement. "I will take the entire lot right now. I can transfer ten million dollars directly to your account before we load them into my van."

"Deal," Valerie said.

The appraiser immediately pulled out his tablet and initiated the high-value wire transfer. He moved quickly, terrified she might change her mind and cancel the transaction.

Sabrina stood watching the bags get loaded, her heart aching for her friend. To her, a woman only sold her prized possessions when she was on the verge of ruin. Believing Valerie was facing financial disaster, Sabrina pulled out her phone, opened her banking app, and transferred 1.5 million dollars directly into Valerie’s personal account.

"I just sent you 1.5 million," Sabrina said firmly, grabbing Valerie's hand. "Do not argue with me. Treat it as an interest-free loan. Use it to get back on your feet."

Valerie looked down at the notification on her screen, warmth swelling in her chest. She knew Sabrina's heart. "Thank you, Sabrina. I will make sure this money comes back to you ten times over."

Once the appraiser drove away with the inventory and the ten million dollars cleared in her primary investment account, Valerie climbed into the driver's seat of the Rolls-Royce. It was still business hours for the overseas markets in Aldoria.

Valerie opened her secure financial application and routed the entire ten million dollars into three specific emerging technology stocks. In her previous life, these three small semiconductor startups would announce groundbreaking patents within the next six months, sending their share prices soaring by over eight hundred percent.

Then, Valerie looked at the 1.5 million dollars Sabrina had loaned her. In the previous timeline, Sabrina had been swindled by a charming, fraudulent investor who drained her accounts and drove her into bankruptcy. Valerie refused to let that happen again. She opened a digital asset brokerage, converted the full 1.5 million dollars into Bitcoin, and registered the private wallet strictly under Sabrina's legal name and identity. When the market peaked a few years down the line, Sabrina would possess a personal fortune that no scammer or market crash could ever strip away.

***

Meanwhile, in the private VIP suite on the top floor of the restaurant, the atmosphere was relaxed as vintage wine flowed into crystal glasses.

Tobias took a sip of his wine and glanced around the table. "Did you guys hear the latest rumor? Word on the street is that Valerie formally joined Ellsworth Group this week."

Vanessa paused, a small, mocking smile touching the corners of her lips. She had known Valerie since their school days. Back then, Valerie had spent every waking hour following Desmond around like a lost puppy, completely ignoring her studies. When Desmond left for his prestigious university in Aldoria, Valerie had begged her parents to pull strings so she could follow him, only to be rejected because her grades were an embarrassment. The idea of Valerie managing a corporate desk was laughable.

"Her dad really spoils her," Vanessa said softly, her voice dripping with sweet condescension. "Giving her an executive title just to keep her entertained."

Dominic paused with his chopsticks in midair, recalling the calm, self-assured look in Valerie's eyes when they crossed paths in the foyer earlier. He chose to say nothing and ate in silence.

Vanessa glanced sideways at Desmond, studying his face.

Desmond did not even blink at the sound of Valerie's name. He sliced his steak with slow, deliberate precision, his eyes cold and detached, showing no interest in Valerie's career or whereabouts.

A surge of triumphant warmth spread through Vanessa's chest. She had won. Desmond truly had discarded Valerie like a piece of worthless trash.

Vanessa parted her lips, ready to change the subject and ask Desmond about their upcoming weekend plans, but Tobias suddenly leaned forward on his elbows with a sly grin.

"By the way, didn't your family give Valerie a ring? The one strictly reserved for your future wife, huh, Desi? What if she flat-out refuses to give it back?"