Page 41 of Liam
Emergency meeting tomorrow.
Chapter Twelve
LIAM
Ipush open the heavy doors of the family estate, a sense of foreboding settling in my gut like lead. The grand foyer, usually a welcoming sight, feels oppressive tonight. Shadows stretch long across the marble floors, distorting familiar shapes into ominous forms.
As I make my way to the study, the muffled voices of my siblings reach my ears. Their tones are hushed and urgent. Not the usual banter that normally precedes our family gatherings.
I pause outside the study door, straightening my tie and taking a deep breath. Whatever’s waiting on the other side, I need to face it with the composure expected of a Valeur. With one last steadying inhale, I push the door open.
The scene that greets me does nothing to quell my unease. Lucas paces by the fireplace, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced by coiled tension. Cora sits in an armchair, herfingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the armrest. Logan leans against the bookshelf, his face unreadable.
In the far corner of the room, Ryder stands like a silent sentinel. His imposing frame is motionless, but his eyes are alert, scanning the room. Why is he here?
And there, behind the imposing mahogany desk, sits our father. The sight of him makes me falter mid-step. He looks old. Worn. His shoulders, usually squared with the confidence of a man who bends the world to his will, are slumped. His hands, I notice with a jolt, are shaking as he pours himself a drink.
“Liam,” he says, his voice gravelly. “Sit down. We were waiting for you.”
I take a seat next to Cora, who gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking from one grim face to another. “Why the emergency meeting?”
Our father takes a long swig of his drink, then sets the glass down with a thud that seems to echo in the tense silence. “There’s something I need to tell you all. Something I should have told you years ago.”
In the flickering firelight, I catch a glimpse of something in my father’s eyes that stops me cold. It’s an emotion I’ve never seen there before, one I never thought I’d associate with Peter Valeur. Fear.
“I’m aware that you have heard things about your mother,” he begins, his voice soft. “About what happened to her. I realize now that I can’t keep this a secret any longer. You deserve the truth. The whole truth.”
The air in the room seems to thicken, making it hard tobreathe. I exchange glances with my siblings, seeing my apprehension mirrored in their eyes.
Our father’s voice breaks as he begins, his usual commanding tone replaced by something raw and vulnerable. “Your mother... She was attacked on her way home one night. Assaulted. It was brutal.” The word hangs in the air, heavy and ugly.
Cora stiffens next to me. Our father continues, his eyes distant, lost in a painful memory.
“She didn’t want anyone to find out. She was... God, she was so ashamed. Embarrassed. Didn’t want to talk about it. As if it was somehow her fault. I couldn’t even convince her to file a report.” His voice cracks, and he takes a shuddering breath. “I watched her fade away, day by day. The vibrant, joyful woman I married… She was gone. A shadow. Dead inside.”
Tears glisten in his eyes, and my own vision blurs. I’ve never seen our father cry before. It’s like watching a mountain crumble.
“I couldn’t stand it,” he whispers, his hands trembling as he grips his glass. “I couldn’t just stand by and watch her disappear. So I started digging. Investigating.”
His gaze hardens, a glimpse of the formidable man shining through the grief. “I had to do something. Anything to bring her back. To make it right.”
The pain in his voice is palpable, filling the room, seeping into our bones. Logan’s jaw is clenched tight, tears streaming down Cora’s cheeks, Lucas’s face a mask of shock and grief.
And I realize that we’re hearing not just about a crime, not just about a secret kept for years. We’re hearing about the moment that shaped our entire family, the invisible woundthat’s been bleeding beneath the surface of our lives all this time.
“What I did next... It changed everything. And now, after all these years, I think it’s coming back to haunt us.”
The weight of unspoken implications hangs in the air, and I realize, with a certainty that chills me to my core, that our lives will never be the same after tonight.
Our father’s voice drops to a whisper, his eyes unfocused. He reaches for the crystal decanter, pouring himself another drink. The sound of liquid splashing into the glass seems loud in the tense silence.
“I found him. The man responsible. I tracked him to his home.” Dad swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He takes a sip, wincing as the strong liquor burns his throat.
Lucas paces behind the couch, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his thigh. Cora fidgets with a loose thread on her sleeve, unraveling it further with each passing second.
“I don’t know what I thought when I went there,” our father continues. “I wanted... I wanted him punished. To face justice for what he’d done to your mother.”
