chapter 86
Lucas's POV:
The drive back to Vivienne's felt like navigating through fog, my mind churning over Father's ultimatum.
Vivienne sat quietly beside me for the first few minutes before finally breaking the silence.
"That bad?" Her voice was small, vulnerable in a way that twisted something in my chest.
I forced a smile, reaching over to take her hand. "Nothing we can't handle. Father just needs time to adjust to the idea."
"Lucas." The way she said my name, weighted with understanding, told me she saw through the facade. "He doesn't like me at all, does he? He thinks I'm beneath you."
"What he thinks doesn't matter—"
"What if he never agrees? What if he keeps refusing and threatening you?" Her voice cracked, the tears finally spilling over. "I can't lose you."
I pulled over, unable to focus on driving while she looked at me like that.
Taking both her hands in mine, I asked the question that had been haunting me since Father's threat: "If I lost everything—the money, the company, the Ashton name—would you still marry me?"
Her eyes widened, genuine confusion flickering across her features. "Lucas, why would you even ask—"
"Please. I need to know."
She was quiet for a long moment, and I found myself holding my breath. Then she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against mine.
"You saved me," she whispered. "When I couldn't see my own worth anymore, when the whole world seemed to be telling me I was nothing compared to her, you saw me. The real me. How could you think money would matter after that?"
Her words reassured me.
I cupped her face in my hands, my voice fierce with conviction. "You're the only one for me, Vivienne. I won't choose anyone else."
I sealed the promise with a kiss that tasted of certainty and determination, feeling her melt against me as if my words had given her the strength she needed.
By the time we reached the Sterling residence, dusk had painted the sky in shades of purple and gold.
I helped Vivienne from the car, noting how she had already composed herself completely. Not a trace remained of her earlier tears—her makeup flawless, her expression serene.
We walked into the Sterling estate together, her hand steady in mine.
As we approached the front door, Robert Sterling's voice carried through an open window, bright with enthusiasm.
"—absolutely brilliant launch, Elena darling! The reviews are already pouring in, and they're all raving about Metamorphosis. Henri Beaumont called it 'the most innovative collection he's seen in a decade.' You've really outdone yourself!"
I felt Vivienne go rigid beside me. Her face, which had maintained its careful composure throughout our difficult afternoon, crumbled for just a moment.
In that instant, I saw everything—the jealousy, the fear, the bone-deep resentment of always coming second to her half-sister's shadow.
Then she rebuilt her walls, brick by brick, until only a slight tightness around her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil.
I thought of last month, when I'd pulled every string to arrange a meeting between Vivienne and Master Henri Beaumont, the legendary perfumer.
She'd prepared for weeks, creating sample after sample, refining her proposals until they were flawless. But when we arrived, he had apologetically informed us that he had already chosen his collaboration partner for the exclusive collection.
The gut punch came as we were leaving—seeing Elena Ross emerging from Beaumont's private studio, a contract folder tucked under her arm.
Time after time, door after door, Elena seemed to claim every opportunity Vivienne reached for.
And now, watching Robert Sterling's subtle dismissiveness toward Vivienne. I began to truly understand the depth of her pain.
When Elena had lived here, I'd witnessed how his face would light up at her smallest accomplishments, how he'd hang on her every word.
The contrast was brutal in its clarity.
No wonder Vivienne fought so desperately for every scrap of recognition; she'd been starving for it her entire life in this house.
I caught her hand, interlacing our fingers with deliberate intent. Bringing them to my lips, I pressed a kiss to her knuckles, holding her gaze.
"You'll always be first with me," I said quietly, meaning every word. "Always."
Something shifted in her expression, becoming deeply complex and unreadable.
We entered the foyer hand in hand, and I immediately caught sight of Robert Sterling hastily ending a phone call, his movements too quick to be casual. "Ah, you're back!" he said with forced brightness.
"Perfect timing—the staff just finished preparing dinner. Lucas, you must stay and join us."
The dining room felt suffocatingly formal despite the family setting.
Crystal glinted under the chandelier as we took our seats, Vivienne beside me, her parents across from us like judges at a tribunal.
"So," Rebecca Sterling began as the first course was served, her tone deceptively light, "how did things go with your family today? About the wedding plans?"
I felt Vivienne's hand freeze mid-motion as she reached for the serving spoon, the tiny tremor betraying her composure.
"Everything went quite smoothly," I said, keeping my voice steady and confident. "Father just needs time to process, but he'll come around." I turned to Vivienne with a gentle smile. "We can set a date whenever you're ready."
She met my gaze, searching, and I let her see the certainty in my eyes—trust me, we'll make this work.
Rebecca observed our silent exchange with keen interest, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Lucas, dear, do have more of the roast," she said, gesturing to the serving platter. "You've been running yourself ragged these past weeks, handling all these matters for Vivienne. You must be exhausted."
"Everything I do for Vivienne is worth it," I replied, accepting the offered plate. "She deserves nothing less."
Rebecca's smile widened, genuine warmth entering her expression for once. "Having you in her life is Vivienne's greatest blessing."