Page 125 of Lucas

“His weekly route?” Arlo glances between us.

“Yeah. He goes out every weekend morning for a ride. A tough route, lots of miles. He’s been doing it for years,” Cora explains. “He loves riding. It’s a serious hobby.”

“Yeah, and this time, he convinced me to join him.” I laugh.

“He’d never convince me,” Cora says. “Good for you for surviving it. I’d die in the first mile,” she adds, shaking her head.

“So you enjoy cycling?” Arlo asks, his eyes boring into me with an intensity that makes me shift in my seat.

“It’s a new thing, actually. Lucas taught me how to ride,” I admit, feeling defensive under his probing gaze.

“Really? You didn’t know how to ride a bike?” Surprise flickers across his face before he smooths his features back into polite interest.

“No. You could say I had a childhood trauma with it.” I shrug, not wanting to delve into the painful details.

“Ah, I see.” Cora smiles, understanding dawning. “So, he guilted you into joining him. You felt obligated because he taught you to ride.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. Not exactly.” How do I explain how important that moment was to me? How he encouraged me not to give up, to believe I could do it? How he made me feel worthy and capable for the first time in my life? The only person who’s ever said those words to me and meant them.

“Yeah, that’s Lucas. He could sell sand to a desert dweller.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “One reason he’s such an excellent business manager, I guess.”

“Yeah...” Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s all just part of Lucas’s charm and has nothing to do with me at all. The thought sits heavy in my stomach, a leaden weight.

We ask for the check and stand, gathering our things. “It was nice to meet you, Arlo,” I say, offering him a small smile.

“Yeah, you too.” He shakes my hand again.

I watch them leave, Cora tucked under his arm, and a pang of longing lances through me. I want that. I want inside jokes and shared history, easy affection and unwavering support.

I want a partnership in every sense of the word.

I want love. Real, messy, complicated, extraordinary love.

With Lucas.

Chapter Thirty-Two

LUCAS

Ipark the Jag in the covered parking lot of my family’s estate, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. I take a deep breath and rehearse the speech I prepared one last time, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Dad, I’ve given the plan a lot of thought, and I’ve decided not to dismantle Gant Construction. Instead, I’m going to rehabilitate the company and absorb it into Valeur. I believe Valeur Real Estate can benefit from having its own construction division. It would be a shame to waste this opportunity.” I nod to myself, satisfied with the pitch. It’s logical and well-reasoned. He’ll see the value in my argument, I’m sure.

I reach over to the passenger seat and collect the leather-bound binder filled with prepared financial projections and market analyses. I know there’s no chance of convincing him without hard data to back up my claims. Numbers havealways been the language he respects most. If I can show him, in black and white, how this plan will boost Valeur’s bottom line, he’ll come around. He has to.

It has to work. There’s too much riding on this.

Because if it doesn’t, I risk losing Ava. Forever. And that’s not an outcome I’m willing to accept. She may not love me yet, but I have to believe she’ll get there.

My heart clenches as I recall her reaction when I let slip that I was growing fond of her. The way her eyes widened in panic. And that was when I only admitted to being fond. I can only imagine the sheer terror I would have induced had I confessed the full, yes, terrifying truth—that I am completely, irrevocably in love with her.

I had to leave, feigning sudden business, before she saw how close I was to shattering, to falling to my knees and begging her to give us a real chance.

But I’m not giving up. I can’t. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll be damned if I let my father’s vengeful crusade rip her away.

If I want her to be mine, I have to save her company.

I exit the car and make my way into the house through the side entrance. The door clicks shut behind me, the sound echoing in the vast space.