Page 109 of Lucas
Silence descends, heavy and charged, as we stare at each other across the battlefield of my office. The air feels thick, suffocating, pressing down on me with the weight of a lifetime of unspoken words, unresolved hurts.
And in that silence, I see him. Really see him, perhaps for the first time.
A man broken by his own greed, his own hubris. A man so afraid of weakness, of vulnerability, that he destroyed everything and everyone he should have held dear.
Including me.Especially me.
The realization hits me like a blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. All these years, all this striving and posturing and fighting. It was all for him. To win his approval, his affection.
But I never could because he’s not capable of giving it. Not really.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LUCAS
“Mr. Valeur?” A woman’s voice asks from the other end of the line, tinny through the phone speaker.
“Yes?” I don’t recognize the voice or the number.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you. I’m Bridget, Ava’s assistant,” she explains, the words tumbling out in a rush. Tension crackles through the line.
I straighten, my heart pounding against my ribs. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Ava?”
“Mr. Gant arrived in her office, and there’s shouting coming from inside,” Bridget’s voice trembles.
“Shouting?” I leap to my feet, already shrugging into my suit jacket, the phone cradled between my ear and shoulder. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. He just barged into her officeand started yelling at her. They closed the door, and I’m afraid he’ll hurt her. I didn’t know what to do.” Panic edges her words.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “You did good, Bridget.” I sprint out of my office, my shoes pounding on the plush carpet.
At the last second, I yell into the phone, “I’m on my way.”
I don’t wait for the elevator, instead flying down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The moment I burst onto the Gant floor, I hear their voices echoing off the walls.
I reach the door of her office, my breath coming hard and fast. Bridget stands outside, pacing back and forth, wringing her hands. Her brow creases with concern.
“What’s going on in there?” I demand, my pulse roaring in my ears.
“I don’t know. He just showed up without an appointment or anything. I couldn’t stop him. He went inside, and then the shouting started. I’m afraid he’ll hurt her. He’s...” She hesitates, biting her lip. “He’s not a calm man.”
I try the door handle, yanking on it again and again, but it doesn’t budge. Locked.
“He locked the door,” Bridget says, her voice small and frightened.
I whirl to face her, my mind racing. “Do you have another key?” I try to gauge the distance I’ll need to run to break down the door with my shoulder.
“Um... I don’t know. Wait...” Her eyes widen. “When we moved to the new offices, the building manager gave me a bunch of spare keys. There must be a key there.” She rushes to her desk and pulls out a key ring from the drawer, the metal jangling.
I grab the keys from her and flip through them until I findthe one that matches Ava’s room number. I jam it into the lock and twist. The door swings open.
I step inside, my eyes sweeping the room, taking in the scene in an instant.
Ava stands behind her desk, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. She’s furious, rage emanating from every line of her tense frame.
Furious is good. Furious means she’s not hurt.
Thank fuck for that, because otherwise, I would have killed the bastard on the spot.
