Page 48 of Lucas (The Valeur Billionaires #2)

Chapter Thirty-Three

AVA

“ I idolized him. I always wanted to be just like him, to make him proud. He was my role model, my hero. A dad who, on the one hand, runs a successful company, an empire built from the ground up, and on the other hand, manages a family of four children and is present in each of their lives, involved and engaged. He was our rock, our strength. I knew he cheated on Mom, but murder?” Lucas shakes his head, disbelief and anguish etched into every line of his handsome face.

“He’s still your father,” I whisper, my face close to his on the pillow. I can feel the heat of his skin, the ragged brush of his breath. I ache to comfort him, to absorb his pain into me. “What he did or didn’t do has no bearing on his relationship with you, on his love for you and your siblings.”

“I feel like I’ve been through an earthquake.

Like the very ground beneath my feet has crumbled away.

The world as I knew it has shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces.

How can he be my dad, the man who raised me, if he’s capable of something so terrible?

And who did he kill? What if it’s more than one person?

What if he’s a serial killer, and I never had a clue?

” Lucas’s voice rises, edged with hysteria, with self-loathing.

“Have you asked him about it? Talked to him?” I keep my tone gentle. I run my fingers through his hair, the silky strands sliding between my fingers.

“No. How can I? What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey Dad, are you a murderer?’” He laughs, but it’s a harsh, broken sound that lances through me like a blade. His eyes are wild, unfocused, lost.

“No. Of course not like that, and not when you’re this upset, this raw. But you need to talk to him, Lucas. You owe him at least that much, a chance to explain. It might not be what you think at all. There could be more to the story.” I cup his cheek.

“I owe him?” His eyes snap open, flashing with sudden anger, his tone sharpening and becoming cutting. “I don’t owe him a fucking thing if what I heard is true.”

“Yes, you do. From what you’ve told me, he loves you all very much.

Love is being there through the good and the bad, the light and the dark.

And that goes both ways. He’s been there for you every step of the way, and now you need to be there for him.

Even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts.” Just like Lucas was there for me when my father stormed into my office, unwavering in his support, and now I’m here for him, offering what little comfort I can.

“My father never loved me,” I go on. “I don’t think he’s even capable of love, of putting anyone before himself and his own selfish desires.

I spent years trying to please him, twisting myself into knots to make him love me, to earn a scrap of his affection.

He provided for my physical needs, but that’s where it ended.

He was never present or interested in my life or my dreams. He raised me solely to be his puppet.

That’s not love, Lucas. That’s possession and control.

Love shouldn’t be conditional. It shouldn’t come with strings or expectations.

” I blink back tears, my throat tightening with old hurt, old scars that still bleed if I prod them too hard.

“You have a dad who loves you. Who cares about you as a person, not just an extension of himself.”

He nods, seeming to absorb my words, to wrestle with them.

“You don’t understand how much you have. How rare and precious it is. You have a world, a family. I have nothing, no one.” A tear slips down my cheek, hot and scalding. I brush it away, hating the show of weakness. “I don’t belong anywhere. I don’t have a single person who loves me.”

“That’s not true.” Lucas props himself up on his elbow, his bright blue eyes glinting at me in the darkness, fierce and intense. “You do.”

“I just told you my father never loved me, not really. Not the way a parent should love a child,” I remind him, my voice cracking under the weight of a lifetime of longing, of yearning for something I could never have.

“I wasn’t talking about your father.” The muscle in his jaw ticks, his expression turning resolute, determined. There’s a fire in his gaze, a heat that scorches me to my core.

“I don’t have any other family. My mother is gone, and I’m an only child.” I shake my head, not understanding what he’s getting at .

“No, but you have me.”

I sit up, pulling the sheet up to cover my body, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Lucas?”

“I love you, Ava. I’m in love with you.”

The world seems to still, to hold its breath.

I shake my head again, harder this time, panic clawing at my throat. “No. Don’t lie to me. Not about this.”

“I’m not lying. I could never lie about this, about how I feel.

I’ve been in love with you for a long time, for longer than I even realized.

” He visibly swallows. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear it from me, that you could ever return my feelings, but I can’t sit here and allow you to think no one loves you, that you’re alone in this world.

Because you’re not. You have me. I love you, Ava.

With everything I am, with every beat of my fucking heart.

” His voice is raw, urgent, cracking with emotion.

“Don’t just say things like that to me. Not if you don’t mean them. I can’t...I can’t take it.” I’m crying now, the tears streaming down my face in hot rivulets. I don’t wipe them away. What’s the point? They just keep coming, a never-ending flood of pent-up pain and longing.

“Ava, look at me. Please, just look at me.” He reaches for me, his hands on my arms, tugging me closer. I resist for a moment, then let him pull me to him, too tired to fight it anymore. Too desperate for his touch, his warmth.

He takes my face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping over my cheekbones, smearing the tears. His eyes are luminous in the dim light, shining with a fierce, unwavering love that steals the breath from my lungs.

“I’m not just saying this. This isn’t some platitude or empty words.

I love you, Ava. I love you with a depth and intensity that fucking terrifies me.

I love your strength, your resilience, your huge, compassionate heart.

I love your sharp mind and your quick wit, the way you always keep me on my toes.

I love how you challenge me, push me to be better, to want more.

I love your smile, your real smile, the one you keep hidden from the world.

I love the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh and the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking hard.

I love your scars and your fears and your flaws, every imperfect, beautiful inch of you.

I’m in love with you, Ava. Utterly, completely, irrevocably in love with you.

And I’ll say it as many times as it takes, in as many ways as I can, until you believe me. ”

No one has ever said anything like that to me before. No one has ever looked at me like this, like I’m precious, cherished. Like I’m everything.

“Lucas, I...” I trail off, my voice strangled, the words tangled on my tongue. I want to say it back, to tell him how much I love him, how much I need him.

But I can’t.

The words won’t come, trapped behind the lump in my throat, the vice around my heart.

Because how can I accept his love, knowing what I know? Knowing the secret that could destroy us, destroy everything?

My father stole from Valeur. Embezzled millions. And I’m an accomplice, whether I knew it or not. I’m complicit in his crimes, in his betrayal.

And when Lucas finds out it will break him. Break us.

“He told me he loves me,” I confess to Cora. We’re sitting in her living room, and she spills the tea she was just pouring all over the table.

“Shut the front door!” she screeches, jumping up to grab a towel. “Wait until I’m done pouring before you drop bombs like that.” She mops up the mess, then sets the teapot down with a clatter. “Are you serious? He actually said those words? That he loves you?”

“Yes.” I nod, twisting my hands in my lap, my heart fluttering at the memory.

“And did you say it back?” She plops down across from me, her hands gripping my knees as she leans forward, her eyes wide and eager.

I shake my head, my throat tightening.

“You didn’t say it back?” Her mouth falls open. “But you do love him. It’s so obvious. Anyone with eyes can see it. Why didn’t you tell him? God, you’re good at self-sabotage, aren’t you?” She shakes her head, exasperated.

I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “I wanted to, but the words just wouldn’t come. I couldn’t force them out.” I lower my gaze, picking at a loose thread on my pants. “It was awful of me, wasn’t it? Not to say it back?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty shitty. But also understandable. You’ve been hurt a lot. It’s hard for you to open up, to make yourself vulnerable.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand, her touch warm and comforting.

“Is it that obvious? That I’m in love with him?” I ask, my cheeks heating.

“To me, it is. I’ve known for a while now. Probably before you even realized it yourself.” She grins, a knowing glint in her eye .

“What if he didn’t mean it? What if he regrets saying it?” The doubts swirl in my mind, insidious whispers that I can’t quite silence.

Cora laughs. “Regrets it? You can’t regret loving someone, Ava. It’s not like you can just flip a switch and turn off your feelings. Could you stop loving him just because I told you to?”

“No,” I admit, the truth of it settling heavy in my chest.

“Exactly. And for someone like Lucas, who’s always thought love was just a manipulation tactic, a weakness.

.. I’m sure it was hard for him to say it.

If he told you he loves you, believe me, he’s thought long and hard about it.

He wouldn’t throw those words around casually.

” She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest.