Page 13 of Lucas (The Valeur Billionaires #2)

“The best.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let’s go. I have a warehouse to show you afterward.”

Cora might be a Valeur, might be the sister of the man I’m being forced to marry, but right now, she feels like a friend. And that’s something I desperately need, even if I can’t fully trust her.

So, I smile, and I laugh, and I share stories about my foul-mouthed parrot as we make our way to lunch, determined to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can. Right now, in this moment, I’m just Ava. Not a Gant, not a bride-to-be, just a girl laughing with a friend.

And that’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

We arrive at the small, unassuming restaurant, the delicious scent of home-cooked food wafting out to greet us.

“What is this place?” I look around, taking in the humble surroundings. “I have to admit, this isn’t what I expected.”

“Don’t judge by appearances. They have the most delicious food in the area here. The owner cooks everything himself. When the pot is empty, there’s no more. Let’s hope there are still meatballs left.” She winks .

She orders the meatballs in sauce, cheering when the server tells her there are some left, and I order the same thing. I have to taste it to understand the fuss.

“So what’s this about a warehouse you want to show me?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as we wait for our food.

“All the special items are in my private warehouse. If you want to be involved in the overall design, I’ll take you there so you can see for yourself. You don’t have to, of course. Most couples prefer I choose alone. That’s what they pay me for.” She shrugs, taking a sip of her water.

I nod. I had researched her company before we met. Her designs are impressive, no doubt, and she’s well-known. Lucas wasn’t lying when he said she was one of the best in the business.

The server arrives and places large bowls of meatballs and bread in front of us. I snort when I remember what I did with the bread yesterday.

“What’s so funny?” Cora glances up at me, a questioning look on her face.

“I was thinking about my meal with your brother the other day and how unlike this meal it was.” I taste the meatball and moan in delight. “God, what do they put in this? How is it so delicious?”

“Right?” Cora grins. “I’ve been trying to figure out the secret ingredient for years, but I can’t. What do you think about my brother’s estate? Did you like it?”

I pause mid-chew, swallowing hard. “I haven’t been there.” I take another bite of the divine meatball. “But I can imagine. He’s very extravagant, so I assume the estate is like that too.” Meaning, not to my taste.

“Yes, it’s huge.” Cora sighs. “I thought you were moving in with him.”

“After the wedding. But I haven’t seen it yet,” I confirm, my appetite suddenly diminishing at the thought.

“How could you move into a place you haven’t even seen?” Cora wrinkles her nose until a small crease appears between her eyebrows.

“It’s not like I have choices, remember? It’s all in the contract.” The smile vanishes from my face. I sold my life for two years. It sounds so...final. So inescapable.

Cora reaches across the table and places her hand on mine, her expression sympathetic. “I’m sorry. My brother can be a real jerk.”

I pull my hand back, not ready for the comfort, the pity.

I’m not sure I can trust her after one day.

It’s entirely possible she’s going straight from here to tell her brother every word I’ve said.

Not that it matters, the contract is already signed.

Everything is already settled. There’s no way back.

“It’s okay,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I signed the contract of my free will.” Even if that will was heavily influenced by my father’s desperation.

“Well, just so you know, I was angry when I heard about his plan. I mean, don’t get me wrong, a big part of the anger was because you’re a Gant, and I didn’t understand what he had to do with the Gant family, but also because I don’t think a contract marriage is a good idea.

It’s primitive.” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s like we’ve gone back to the Middle Ages or something. ”

“And what do you think of me now?” I ask, my voice harder than I intended. “I’m still a Gant.”

She shrugs. “I like you. I haven’t decided yet if I can trust you, we don’t know each other well enough, but I’ve enjoyed today,” she says, her gaze direct.

“Me too.” Her words echo my own thoughts from earlier. We’re more similar than I expected.

“So, what do your parents think about the wedding?” Cora asks, changing the subject.

I stiffen, my hand tightening around my fork. “My mother passed away when she gave birth to me,” I say, my voice steady despite the old ache in my chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Cora’s face falls, sympathy shining in her eyes.

“It’s okay. I never knew her. There’s nothing to be sorry about. And Father, well, you could say he forced me to go along with this.” I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant like it doesn’t cut me to the bone.

“He forced you?” She leans forward, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Nothing is more important than the family name, right?” I say with a bitter laugh. “I was taught to obey. To do what’s best for the Gant name.”

“Me too,” Cora says, lost in thought for a moment. “We were raised with the idea that we would run the company someday. My dad was angry when I didn’t want to take a role in it.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. I always assumed the Valeurs were united, a solid front.

She nods. “Yes. He expected all his children to work at Valeur. But in the end, he understood that we don’t all have the same aspirations.

I would have rotted in a job like that. I love design, art, and interacting with people.

” She falls silent for a moment. “Did you always want to work in your dad’s company? ”

I press my lips together, considering the question. Did I always want to? “I didn’t know anything else. Options are not something that exists in the Gant family,” I say, my voice tight. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

Cora places her hand on mine again, and this time I don’t pull away. “People like to tell me things. Being a wedding planner is like being a psychologist.” She smiles. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Lucas anything, I promise.” She raises her hand in a scout’s oath. “So, are you ready for my warehouse?”

I nod, grateful for the change in topic. We finish our meal, chatting about lighter things, Cartman’s antics making Cora laugh until she’s wiping tears from her eyes. Then we head out to her warehouse.

Walking inside the vast space filled with treasures and amazing objects, a spark of excitement ignites within me. Maybe, just maybe, I can make this wedding my own, even if the marriage is out of my hands.

We end the day by choosing the design and finalizing the details for the wedding. As I walk out into the crisp evening air, a strange mix of emotions swirls inside me. Excitement, trepidation, a faint hint of hope.

I’ve found an unexpected ally in all this mess, but I can’t let my guard down. Not yet. Not until I know for sure where Cora’s loyalties lie. In the meantime, I have a wedding to plan and a role to play. The perfect blushing bride, madly in love with her handsome groom.