Page 111 of Lucas
“You’re okay, Wifey,” I murmur into her hair, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Everything will be alright. I’m here now.”
Her slender frame shudders against me, and I tighten my hold, willing my strength into her. “You’re not meeting with him alone anymore. You hear me? If he dares to even text you, you tell me immediately.”
“He doesn’t want me. He never did.” The words aremuffled against my chest, soaked in such resigned despair that they crack my heart right down the middle.
I cup her face in my palms and tilt her chin until her shimmering eyes meet mine. “What do you mean, he never wanted you?”
“He told me he never wanted children. He wanted to focus on his career, and kids didn’t interest him. My mom got pregnant by mistake. He wanted her to have an abortion.” Fresh tears spill over, tracing shining tracks down her cheeks.
I shake my head, a spike of anger lancing through me at the implication.
“He told me more than once that I killed her.” Her voice hitches on a sob.
“You didn’t choose to be born, it’s not your fault. And I’m sure your mother loved you from the moment she knew you existed.” I smooth my thumbs over her wet cheeks, catching her tears.
“He never wanted me. And then I turned out to be a girl instead of a boy, and Mom died, and he got stuck with me. I’m his punishment.” Her face crumples, and she dissolves into tears, her slim shoulders heaving.
“Fuck.” I crush her to me, fighting back my own tears. What can I say in the face of such casual cruelty, such vicious rejection? “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so damn sorry.”
I hold her as she cries, whispering nonsense words of comfort even as helpless rage gnaws at my gut. I want to kill him, slowly and painfully.
Her sobs quiet, and she pulls back, swiping at her ravaged face. “Sorry for falling apart on you like that,” she mumbles, not meeting my eyes.
“You have nothing to apologize for. It was a hug, and Ioffered. Are you okay?” I duck my head, trying to catch her gaze.
“No.” She huffs out a wet laugh. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“Your father was right about one thing—he shouldn’t have had children,” I say, keeping my tone gentle.
Her head snaps up, hurt and betrayal replacing the sadness in her green eyes.
“Because a man like him doesn’t deserve children,” I rush to add, “and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve an amazing daughter like you. I’m sorry he’s your father, Ava. No one should have such a cruel parent. He’s too blind and selfish to see what he’s missing, but I’m not. I’m so damn grateful you exist. I’m grateful you’re here, with me.” I pull her back into my arms, needing to feel the warm, vital weight of her.I’m grateful you’re here because I love you, I add silently because she’s not ready for those words yet.
This isn’t the time. Not when she’s raw and vulnerable, not when an ill-timed advance could shatter the fragile trust growing between us.
Someday, though. Someday I’ll say them out loud and pray she believes me. Pray she’ll give me a chance to prove how much I mean it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
AVA
“I’ll get it.” I stop Hugo, sidestep him, and open the door to the mansion.
“Hey!” I launch myself at Michelle, wrapping her in a tight hug.
She holds me at arm’s length, her eyes narrowing as they sweep over me from head to toe. “You look different. Why do you seem different?”
“Different good or different bad?” I ask, a hint of nervousness lacing my words.
“Good. You’re dressed differently, and you’re tanned, healthy. And those legs!” She whistles, her gaze lingering on my bare limbs.
I stretch out my legs, encased in tiny jean shorts. Beneath my tank top and shorts, I’m wearing the new royal blue bikini I bought.
“Different hot,” Michelle adds with a laugh, her eyesdarting around, taking in the surroundings. “So this is where you live now? This is the famous Show-off Palace?”
I grin. I’ve told her plenty of stories about this place during the times I’ve wandered around alone and bored. “Yep. Valeur Manor Number Two.”
“Number Two?”
