Chapter 41

Valerie’s pov.

Three full weeks had passed since Montgomery's imprisonment. The weight of his crimes, involving both kidnapping and embezzlement, had ensured that he remained incarcerated. Pedro and Grandpa had spared no expense in securing the best legal representation for themselves, while Montgomery's dwindling assets had made it difficult for him to secure a formidable defense. The trial, as anticipated, had its challenges, exacerbated by the intrusion of the media. Eden's prediction had come true – some praised her bravery in revealing the truth, while others condemned her for betraying her own blood. Despite the backlash, Eden remained unfazed, finding solace in the fact that the man responsible for her lover's fate was finally behind bars.

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world," Oliver observed as he moved past me, gracefully bringing the honey-glazed salmon to the dining table.

"I guess I am," I confessed, placing the side of seasoned vegetables next to the salmon. As the aroma of the delicious meal filled the room, I couldn't help but be comforted by the tangible reality amidst the chaotic emotions that swirled within me.

“Is that why you’ve hidden all the butter knives?” he joked.

“Oliver,” I glared at him but I couldn’t help but smile as well.

"Not quite the moment for humor, huh?" he chuckled, his hands gently cradling my face. His touch, as always, was a soothing balm to my worries. "Give them some time, Valerie."

"But how much more time, Oliver? I don't want to hold onto false hope," my confession was tinged with frustration. The recurring family dinners had yet to shed the awkwardness that seemed to perpetually hang in the air, a constant reminder of the longstanding animosity between our families.

"Baby, it's a process. They've carried this hatred for years, and discovering they were manipulated isn't something that can be resolved overnight." Oliver's words were laced with understanding, coaxing my doubts to recede.

"I know," I sighed, a sense of resignation sweeping over me. "And our moms seem to be getting along just fine," I added, recalling the surprising camaraderie that had developed between our mothers during the wedding preparations. It was a glimmer of hope, a reminder that even the most entrenched rivalries could evolve into something better.

His reassuring smile captured my gaze, reminding me that with time, patience, and a little faith, perhaps our families could rewrite their history of conflict and forge a future that was far more harmonious.

"Can you keep a secret?" Oliver leaned in, his intense green eyes holding mine as he shared a secret revelation. His lips twitched into a half-smile before he sealed them together, almost as if he was trying to contain the secret within them.

"Of course, tell me!" I leaned in, the excitement evident in my voice. The prospect of a secret between us always felt like an adventure.

"Last week, I spotted our moms shopping together. They didn't notice me, so I slipped away," Oliver confessed, and a playful air of mischief danced in his eyes. He pressed his lips together as if to prevent the secret from escaping any further.

"What?!" My eyes widened with joy at the unexpected news. This was more than just a step forward – it was a giant leap toward a more harmonious future. It also explained why my mom had been evasive when she mentioned shopping for new work clothes.

"Yep, when I was picking out that dress for you, the one that's hugging you so perfectly right now." His finger traced the strap of the emerald green sparkly bodycon dress he had chosen. It was like he knew my body better than I did, he knew exactly what would fit me perfectly.

"It's definitely progress," I agreed, giving him a warm smile and a quick peck on the lips.

"Our brothers are getting along better too, despite the occasional sarcasm," Oliver continued, his tone filled with optimism. He was right; even their relationship had improved noticeably.

"And even our grandpas seem to be tolerating each other's presence," I observed, thinking about the recent family dinners. They might not be fast friends, but the lack of outright hostility was a definite step in the right direction.

"But our dads are still stubbornly holding onto their grudges," I sighed, rolling my eyes. Their rivalry seemed to be particularly intense, even after all these years.

"Your dad did try to blame mine for not uncovering the truth sooner," Oliver chuckled, joining me as I moved to the kitchen.

"And your dad pointed fingers at mine for the loss of clients, something that happened ages ago when the feud was in full swing," I added, taking a sip of my drink.

"We could keep hashing out their issues, but I'm afraid we'd raise our blood pressure too much. Let's focus on trusting the process, giving everything more time, and holding onto hope." Oliver's hands found their way to my shoulders, his touch as calming as his words.

“Well, I do happen to be a little tense, any chance you could do more than just a back massage? Perhaps a little more south?” I placed the glass down then brought my hands to his waist and pulled him closer to me.

“Yeah?” Oliver raised a brow at me, working his hands down further. “Here?” he asked when he kneaded my breasts, earning a moan from me.

“Mhm, further,” I whispered as his hands went down further.

“I wouldn’t want to leave my wife all tensed up and such,” Oliver whispered before capturing my lips between his.

“There!” I moaned when he cupped my pussy and I felt him smirking against my lips.

“Here?” he asked, placing soft kisses down my jawline.

I closed my eyes as I felt his lips going down the column of my neck, he nipped and twirled his tongue over the sensitive spots he’d just kissed and I couldn’t stop the moans from spilling out.

He ran a finger along the silk of my panty and smirked when he felt how his small, gentle kisses had already affected me. “Is this for me, Wife?” he asked, rubbing me teasingly through the silk.

“Yes, Oliver, now do something about it,” I whispered in his ear, threading my fingers through his hair.

“We have guests coming, love,” Oliver continued to tease, his hands slipping into my panty. His long fingers brushed over my lips before he’d enter me then moaned against my skin. His free hand tugged one side of my dress until my breast spilled out. His skillful tongue greeted my tongue immediately, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud and making me arch my back into him.

“Are you up for the challenge?” I challenged and within seconds Oliver had me up on the counter.

“You should know better than to challenge me,” He smirked, kneeling between my legs and within seconds he had removed my panties and nuzzled between my legs.

—

Our guests arrived, and we gathered around the table, the air charged with a mix of anticipation and cautious optimism– now my nerves weren’t a problem anymore, Oliver had made sure to get me relaxed.

"Val, this spread looks absolutely mouthwatering," my mom exclaimed as Dad courteously pulled out her chair. Alvaro, in his ever-playful manner, rolled his eyes and did the same for his wife.

"I'm glad you like it, but I must confess, I only took care of the broccoli," I grinned, glancing over at Oliver, the true culinary mastermind behind the delicious dishes before us.

"Oliver, my compliments to the chef," Mom turned her attention to my husband, her eyes gleaming with genuine appreciation.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. And just for you, I made sure to include a red velvet cake from your favorite bakery," Oliver responded, a sly smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly how to win people over, especially my family.

"Can we eat now, or should we keep exchanging compliments?" Alvaro interjected, his stomach's impatience evident. Oliver shot him a playful glare, causing us all to chuckle.

The meal commenced, and as we savored each bite, conversation flowed. The dinner conversation wasn't without its awkward moments, but there was a noticeable effort from everyone to keep things civil. It was a small victory, a step towards the harmony we hoped for.

Dessert followed, and along with it, the continuation of our discussions. While the progress was slow, it was there. Both grandfathers managed to exchange a few words, even if they were still tentative. Our brothers excitedly made plans for an upcoming race, insisting that Oliver be a part of it.

This unplanned bonding was a positive sign, a flicker of hope that our families could eventually bridge the gap.

As the evening wound down, I couldn't help but reflect. The road to reconciliation was indeed a gradual one. Our fathers were the last piece of the puzzle, their stubborn hostility needing time to melt away. As I glanced at Oliver, his supportive presence beside me gave me strength.

If we continued with our weekly family dinners, maybe, just maybe, our gatherings would eventually resemble the unity we so desired.