Chapter thirty
Luc
Lethal.
I stand at the bottom of the stairs as she descends, wearing a pink corset dress with cute butterflies embroidered across the fabric. It clings to her body perfectly, showing off her curves. The thigh-high slit on the right reveals her long, toned legs.
She’s fucking stunning. Lethal.
A small smile touches her lips, but I’ll take it. It’s more than I’ve gotten from her the past few days. She’s been avoiding me ever since that night. Sneaking out to eat those nugget ice cubes she loves so much. Acting like it never happened. But it did.
That’s all I’ve been thinking about. Her soft moans. The taste of her lips. The way her body trembled under my hands. It’s an obsession I can’t shake, playing in my mind as I come into my hands with her name on my lips.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, unable to hide my admiration. “So gorgeous in that dress.” Tellement belle.
“Merci.” She tucks a piece of her sleek, pressed hair behind her ear.
Her hair’s longer now, glossier, and the pink highlights framing her face add a subtle edge to her softness. I booked her a full-service appointment yesterday, including hair, nails, and massage. It wasn’t easy convincing her to go. She gave me a whole speech about being an independent woman who can take care of herself. And she can. But she’s also my fiancée, and I will spoil her.
I grab her coat from the entryway and hold it open for her. She glances at the coat in my hands, her hesitation brief, before stepping forward. She adjusts her hair, the pink highlights catching the light, and then slides her arms into the sleeves.
Her scent—something warm, soft, and distinctly her—fills my nostrils as I step closer. My fingers brush against her neck as I adjust the collar. She stiffens at the touch before pulling away.
“Ready?” My gaze lingers on her longer than it should.
She nods without meeting my eyes. We say goodbye to Ruby, who’s been circling around our legs. Leah will be here soon to watch her.
I move ahead, scanning my key card to call the elevator. When the doors slide open, she steps inside, and I follow, selecting the option for my private parking.
“So, they’re all yours?” She waves a hand at the row of cars as we step into the parking lot.
“Yes, these are some of them,” I reply casually. “I only keep three here. The rest are back at my mansion.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Why do you need all these cars if you barely drive them?”
“Why do you need all those shoes and bags you bought yesterday?” I raise my eyebrow at her, smirking.
“Hey, you said I could spend as much as I wanted!” she fires back.
“I did,” I say, holding her gaze. “And I have no problem with what you spent. Trust me, Mon Trésor, you could spend ten times that. My money is your money.”
Her mouth falls open slightly. “Wait, but… I spent more than ten thousand dollars!”
I laugh, unable to help myself at her expression. “Rylee,” I say, shaking my head as I walk around to open the passenger door for her. “That was pocket money.”
She slides into the seat, still looking skeptical. Once she’s settled, I shut the door gently and move to the driver’s side, climbing in.
“What I’m saying is,” I continue, starting the car, the sound of the engine filling the space, “different occasions require different cars.”
“Oh, like today?” she asks, glancing at the sleek interior of the Benz.
“Exactly. This one is perfect for the long drive to my parents’ house.”
The rest of the drive continues in silence, except for the music playing from the car’s speaker. Her gaze stays fixed out the window, her wide eyes taking in the landscape as we near my parents’ mansion. When the estate comes into full view, the mansion lit softly against the evening sky, her lips part slightly.
“This is your parents’ home?” Her head swivels toward me with raised eyebrows. “How fucking rich are you guys?”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest, low and brief, as I ease the car to a stop at the front entrance. Jean is already waiting.
He steps forward as I open my door, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. I adjust my coat before rounding the car to her side. She’s still staring, her lips parted, her gaze moving between the house and the towering trees lining the driveway.
I open her door, leaning down slightly. “You ready?”
Her head tilts toward me, her brown eyes wide and searching. For a second, she doesn’t move. Then, with a slight nod, she places her hand in mine and steps out.
I shut the door behind her and place my hand on the small of her back as I lead her toward the house. She stops at the base of the stairs leading to the entrance. Her fingers play with the strap of her purse, twisting and untwisting it.
She’s nervous.
I pause with her, stepping closer. My hand moves from her back to her shoulder, the fabric of her coat soft under my fingers as I give her a gentle squeeze. “Hey,” I say, low enough so only she can hear even if no one is around us. “You okay?”
Her lips twitch into a smile, small and faint. “Yeah.”
I tilt her chin up slightly with the pad of my finger, bringing her gaze to mine. “I know this is a lot,” I murmur. “But everything will be fine. We’re in this together, okay?”
Her breath catches faintly, the sound barely audible, and her eyes flutter close. When they meet mine again, my heart beats a little faster. She exhales again, the tension easing from her shoulders.
“We can leave right now if you want. Just say the word,” I add, letting a faint smile curve my lips as I brush my thumbs lightly against her coat.
“No, it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” She lifts her chin up a little higher, stepping forward with more confidence. Her heels click against the stone as she climbs the stairs, her pace matching mine.
Jean holds the door open, nodding politely as we step inside.
“Wow,” Rylee breathes, turning around as she takes in the place. The high ceilings, the chandelier, and the staircase curving upward in perfect symmetry. Her fingers curl around the strap of her purse again.
I watch how her eyes dance from one detail to the next, the awe written plainly on her face. It stirs something in me—something warm, almost protective. My hand returns to the small of her back. “Come on.” I guide her forward.
The conversation grows clearer as we near the dining area, laughter mingling with the clink of glasses. But when we step inside, the air shifts, growing heavier.
The Rousseaus are here.
My eyes find Margot instantly. Her smile freezes mid-laugh, her expression faltering the second she spots me. My stomach tightens, heat creeping up my neck as a flood of memories I’d worked hard to bury comes rushing back.
The last time I saw her, she wasn’t laughing. She was moaning. Another man’s name. Olivier.
“Luc!” Sophie’s voice cuts through the haze, pulling me back to the present. She bounces toward me, arms wide, before pulling me in a tight hug. Her familiar perfume wraps around me like warmth against a chill. “It’s so good to see you!”
I chuckle lightly, hugging her back. “Hey, Soph. Good to see you, too.” She acts like we haven’t seen each other in months instead of a few days. But this is Sophie.
When she pulls back, her attention immediately shifts to Rylee. Her face lights up even more, and she steps toward her without hesitation.
“Rylee! I’m so glad you’re here!” Sophie leans in, kissing Rylee on each cheek before pulling her into a hug. Her enthusiasm is bright and genuine.
Rylee stiffens slightly at first, caught off guard, but Sophie’s warmth has always been infectious. She relaxes, a small smile softening her features. “It’s nice to see you again,” Rylee says.
Sophie grins, her hands resting lightly on Rylee’s arms. “You look stunning! Doesn’t she, Luc?”
My gaze shifts to Rylee, and for a moment, I forget Margot is even in the room. “Yeah,” I say quieter now. “She does.”
But the moment doesn’t last.
When my eyes drift back to the table, Margot is still watching us. Her red lips press into a thin line, her gaze sharp and calculating.
What the hell is she doing here?