Val grows stronger

Over the next few days Valeria continued to visit Chase. As a result her daydreams grew darker and more vivid. In her mind, she was no longer the reserved doctor, but Val—the sharp-tongued, merciless queen of the school halls. She saw herself striding confidently down crowded corridors, eyes gleaming with a cruel delight as she surveyed the sea of nervous students around her.

She imagined spotting Diego—the kid she had always thought of as weak and pathetic—shuffling awkwardly between classes. Valaria, as Val, would smirk and call him out in front of everyone, her voice dripping with mockery. “Hey, Diego, did you forget your spine today? Or do you just like being the school joke?”

She pictured Val circling him like a predator, pushing his books from his grasp, laughing with a small, wicked group of followers who echoed her jeers. Val took pleasure in seeing Diego’s flustered, powerless reactions, enjoying the rush of control and dominance that came with each sneer and cruel remark.

Valeria felt a stirring deep inside—an intoxicating blend of power and thrill—as she indulged in these fantasies, the lines between who she was and who Val had become blurring further with every imagined taunt.

Those fantasies didn’t just stay in her head—they started bleeding into the smallest, most mundane moments of her day.

At the clinic, when an intern fumbled over a chart, she heard Val’s voice in her own mouth:

“Do you actually know how to read, or are you just here to warm the seat?”

The intern flushed, muttering an apology, and Valeria felt that same rush she’d imagined in the school halls—like blood surging hot through her veins.

At home, it got worse. She’d catch herself glancing at Diego over dinner, her mind slipping into those corridor daydreams. She’d picture him with that awkward, **** hunch to his shoulders, and her lips would twitch into the faintest smirk. She never said anything out loud—yet—but the urge to poke, to push, was building.

And every time she returned to Chase, he fed it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, circling behind her. “Now… tell me. Have you been thinking about Val?”

“…Yes…” Her voice was soft, almost eager.

He grinned. “Of course you have. Because Val isn’t just some character I made up for fun, is she? No…” He leaned down, his lips almost brushing her ear. “She’s you. The real you. Always has been.”

Valeria twitched faintly, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“Valeria Rivera—doctor, mother, respectable woman—that’s the act. That’s the costume you wear so people don’t know who you really are. But Val? She’s what’s underneath. Sharp. Cruel. Sexy. Merciless.”

“…Merciless…” she echoed, a little shiver running through her.

“And the truth is…” he continued, “You didn’t become a doctor to help people. You became a doctor because you love having power over them. You love seeing them in pain, knowing they’re begging you for help. And you love deciding just how much help to give them.”

Her breathing hitched.

“Every time a patient winces when you touch them… every time they cry… every time they look at you with that helpless expression… you get a little thrill, don’t you?”

“…Yes…”

He smiled wickedly. “That’s Val, coming out. And she’s tired of pretending. Tired of playing nice. She wants more. More fun. More control. And she especially loves taking it out on people who are weak.”

A slow, dark smile spread across her lips.

“You’re beginning to understand, Val,” he told her in that velvet tone, his gaze holding her like invisible hands. “Weakness disgusts you. It always has—you just never let yourself admit it. And now… now you’re free to feel it. To act on it.”

"Yes..." she whispered in a tone of anticipation.

“Like that pathetic boy Diego,” Chase whispered. “He’s exactly the kind of loser you and I would’ve had fun with back in school. Val’s been thinking about that, hasn’t she?”

“…Every day…” she breathed.

“Val,” he says softly, “think about it—Diego isn’t really your son. He’s just a part of the story you created to keep up the ‘Valeria the caring doctor’ act. Someone you picked up to build that image, to make others believe you’re compassionate and responsible.”

He watches her closely as her eyes narrow thoughtfully, absorbing the idea.

“You don’t have to feel the weight of motherhood with him. That role isn’t truly yours anymore. It’s just another mask you wear when you want to keep people fooled.”

Val’s lips curl into a cold smile. The thought of letting go of any real emotional connection to Diego feels freeing—he’s just a prop now, a tool to maintain appearances.

Chase continues, “This gives you power, Val. You can play with him, tease him, manipulate him all you want—because none of it really matters. You don’t owe him anything. You answer only to yourself, and me.”

Val feels a thrilling surge of control and detachment. Diego is no longer a son—just a pawn in her game. And that means she can truly be Val, without guilt or hesitation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, brushing his hand through her hair. “From now on, whenever you feel bored, whenever you’re alone, you’ll let Val out to play. Just a little. A glance, a tone of voice, a little mockery. And it’ll feel… good. Because that’s who you are.”

Her smile turned into a grin, sharp and knowing, even in her trance. She could see the images his words painted - Diego cornered in the hall, Chase watching from the lockers with an approving smirk, and Val at the center of it all, savoring the fear she commanded like a perfume only she could smell.

She left each session lighter, more energized, like the part of her that had been dead for years was finally awake—and she didn’t want to put it back to sleep.