Page 142 of Lucas

“Of course, sir,” the man agrees, and I can practically hear the dollar signs dinging in his eyes.

I wrap up the details with them and end the call, a satisfied smile playing on my lips. They sounded so shocked, so overjoyed. I guess parrot sanctuaries don’t get a lot of big donations. But Ava loves that murderous bird of hers, and I want to do something I know she’ll appreciate.

I pull the large white envelope from my briefcase, holding it in both hands. I take a deep, fortifying breath before opening it and going over the new contract my lawyer sent me.

I call Liam, putting him on speakerphone.

“Did you look over the contract I sent you?” I ask without preamble, my eyes scanning the dense legalese.

“Good morning to you, too.” Liam yawns, his voice thick with sleep.

“Did you look it over or not?”

“Yeah, I did. So you’re planning to give Ava sole ownership of Gant Construction?” He yawns again, and the rustle of sheets sounds in the background.

“Yes. Did you stay up all night? Why are you yawning? It’s not like I woke you at the crack of dawn.”

He ignores my question. “What happened to the original plan to take over the company? According to this new contract, you have no decision-making power, no stake. And what about her father?”

“I don’t want to take over her company anymore. And I bought out the controlling share. I’m the majority owner now, and I want to give it to Ava.”

“Are you sure about this? If she leaves you, you’ll be out of the money you already put in and thecompany. It’s been weeks since she walked out, Lucas. You need to face the possibility that she might not come back,” Liam says. “That she might not forgive you.”

I close my eyes, pain lancing through my chest at the thought. But I shake it off, determined. “I don’t want the money back. I want her to have everything she wants, everything she deserves. If she decides not to return to me, I want her to be able to stand on her own two feet, without me and without her crooked father. I want to see her succeed. Just make sure there are no loopholes in the contract that would allow her con artist father to regain control of the company.” I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, exhausted.

“I’m on it. So far, it looks airtight. I’ll make certain it is,” Liam assures me, and there’s a rustling of papers as he flips through the document.

“Great,” I mumble, rubbing at the dull ache throbbing behind my eyes.

“Did Dad agree to this new contract?”

“No. I mean, I didn’t ask him, and I don’t give a damn about his opinion. I’m going to sign it and send it to her. If she wants the company, it’s hers. Dad has nothing to do with it.” I’m not a little boy anymore. I don’t need his permission or approval for every decision, and I don’t care if he disapproves.

I don’t know what Ava will choose, but she doesn’t deserve what I did to her. She deserves every good thing in this world, and I’m going to make sure she gets what I promised her. The money to save her company and full ownership. What she does after that is up to her.

“Are you okay, Lucas?” Liam asks.

“I will be. I have to go.” I cut off the call, not wanting todwell on my emotional state. It’s a fucking mess, and I don’t have the energy to unpack it right now.

I glance back at Ava’s house just in time to see her turn off the lights. She’s about to leave.

I exit my car and lean against the door, waiting. Watching.

She spots me and pauses, her green eyes meeting mine across the distance. She holds my gaze for a long, charged moment, her expression unreadable.

“Good morning, Wifey,” I call out with a smile, holding up a cup of coffee like a peace offering. Maybe this time she’ll answer me?

But she just turns away, getting into her Jeep without a word, without a backward glance.

I wait until she’s driven off before climbing back into my car. I push through the ache, the longing, and drive toward the Valeur estate. I can’t put this off any longer.

We need to talk.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

LUCAS

“Hey, Dad.” I find him sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper. He’s one of the last people who still reads a physical paper.