Page 33 of The Art of Loving You

There was no point pretending anymore and hoping I could somehow change things on my own. “Yes,” I admitted. “It started with my great-grandfather during the war. He acquired stolen pieces—paintings, sculptures, relics. After the war, those pieces became the foundation of our family’s wealth.”

I paused, the weight of it pressing on me. “My grandfather expanded the collection, turning the gallery into the perfect front. By the time my father took over, it was a full-blown operation.”

Her expression didn’t change, but her silence urged me on. “I wasn’t part of the deals, but I knew. My father had me move pieces and check on them. I told myself I wasn’t involved, but I was complicit.”

Ella’s voice was gentle. “What about your mom?”

“She knew and fought him for years. She wanted to end it, but my father wouldn’t. That’s why she left him—and tried to get me to leave too.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked softly.

I shook my head. “He made it impossible. He dangled the lifestyle—money, the penthouse, everything. I was young, and I fell for it.”

Her hand covered mine, grounding me. “You were young, but you’re not now.”

I met her gaze, drawn in by the quiet strength behind it. “I have to make this right,” I said, the weight of it settling in my chest. “I want to return the pieces—make restitution. It’s what my mom always wanted.”

Ella didn’t hesitate. “Then let’s do it,” she said, steady and sure. “Together.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed.Mom.Her name lit up the screen like a warning. I hesitated, then answered. “Hey.”

Her voice was tight. “A friend just called. Lucas, have you seen the news?”

“I have.”

“You need to call your attorney. They might bring you in for questioning.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” I said, but the words felt thin, unconvincing.

“That doesn’t matter,” she shot back. “You need to be prepared.”

I let out a slow breath, my eyes flicking to Ella. “I’m not going to fight this, Mom. I’m returning the stolen art.”

Silence stretched on the line. Then, softly, “You are?”

“Yes. It’s the right thing to do.”

Her voice softened. “Lucas, I’m proud of you. You know I wanted to do the same for years, but your father… he made it clear what would happen if I tried.”

“You didn’t deserve that!”

“No, but I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire.” She paused. “Be careful. Your father will fight to protect what’s his.”

“I know. But I’m done letting him control this.”

“Then I’ll support you,” she said firmly. “Just call your attorney.”

“I will.”

I set the phone down as Ella reached for my hand. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said quietly. For the first time, I felt like I was.

I leaned back, rubbing my temples. "I don't know where to begin," I muttered.

Ella shifted closer, her hand on my arm. "Decide what's important," she said. "I have connections in the art world who can guide us through restitution cases."

I turned to her, amazed at her resolve. "You didn't sign up for this."

She cut me off. "I'm here because I want to be. This isn’t just your fight anymore."

---