Chapter 13
“Is that true?” I rasp. “Can I not own a residence due to being an American citizen?”
“You are allowed to purchase property as a citizen, you just face different tax laws, which I believe Timothé has already lodged and taken care of on your behalf. However, you’re not just an American citizen; your father had your documents processed when you were a child. Madeline checked the paperwork.” Arthur’s gaze meets mine. “She has your citizen card waiting for you at the office.”
Madeline did that for me? Maybe she’s not just helping Luc.
I straighten from the wall as I try to process everything Arthur explained. I’m so lost in thought I don’t hear Arthur leave, but the pacing of Luc’s footsteps, like the annoying drip of a leaky faucet, reverberate across my skull. His face set in a grim line, his eyes stormy. Clearly he isn’t as impressed with what Arthur said.
“I guess that means we’re going to be moving in…” I start to say, the words not quite forming in my brain. Mentally adding get camping gear onto my list.
Luc’s large stature seemed to dwarf compared to before Arthur’s arrival, the sense of arrogance slowly fading. He pulls an envelope from his pocket. On the front was written Jean-Luc in the most unusual writing. “My grand-mère passed away a few years ago.” Luc separates the letter over the precise cut and pulls out a few pieces of paper folded twice over. “It was only when we started going through her belongings that I found this letter.” He opens the folds of the letter and clears his throat, thick with emotion for his grandmother.
“My grand-mère and I were really close, and when I read this letter, it was like she was sitting next to me again, and we were having fine wine and pastries sitting in the garden.” Luc points out the window behind me to a part of the chateau grounds I had not yet had a chance to explore.
“You used to come here?” I ask. A tinge of envy overcomes me, both for the connection he had to his family and because he used to be able to experience the wonder of this place.
“Yes, I used to be here a lot as a little kid, my grand-mère and Louis were young loves,” he admits. I couldn’t help wondering if Luc was a long-lost cousin. I also really hope he isn’t.
“Are you and I…?” I ask, pointing my finger between us.
“God, no.” He blanches. My lips part as I blow out a breath in relief, and all my locked muscles relax. It should be illegal to be such a good kisser, and I’m thankful the man who kisses me like I’m the last drop of water isn’t related to me. But something about the man sitting before me, his scent of cedarwood and spiced wood, his smile, the way he makes me feel slightly off kilter, the twinkle in his eyes. The way he wants to steal my rightful inheritance makes me loathe him.
No, I could not imagine anything worse than to be related to him. “No, my grand-mère was intended for Louis Monet, but Louis was called up for the war. He left and they both decided to break off the engagement. So many did not return from the war, there was so much death. Louis did not want to put my grand-mère through the pain of losing a husband. It devastated my grand-mère. I don’t think she ever really forgave him for that. She always used to say, your heart loves but once, anything after that is just to cover the wound true love left behind.” He blows out a harsh breath. “A few years later, my grand-mère met my grand-père. She loved my grand-père, but not the same way she loved Louis. Her eyes would always glitter the moment he walked into the room.” A small smile touches his lips at the recollection of the memory.
“When Louis returned after the war and learned of my grand-mère’s marriage, he seemed happy. I think he just accepted it, especially because, after his one sister had left for America, he had to look after his other sister, who had had an accident. He took that job very seriously. Deep down, I think the war changed him, not just from what he saw but also what he lost. Then this little boy landed on his door, and slowly, Louis began to smile again. My maman grew up with this little boy.”
“My dad,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to offer some sort of comfort, a shiver racing down my spine, my eyes glassy from the harrowing story Luc is telling.
“I didn’t know he was your father,” Luc answers honestly. “My family have not heard of him since the day he left for America. Louis didn’t talk about him anymore. He was like a cousin to my maman, they had grown up together. My maman wrote letters, but they went unanswered. We assumed he passed away.”
“Well, clearly he didn’t die because he had me.” Hurt that they never knew I existed crushes my chest. I didn’t have a great upbringing, and that got dramatically worse after Dad died. Having family here might have changed that—relieved some of the mental anguish Mom created. Louis knew about me, he knew my dad was in America for a long time. Why did he let Luc’s mom believe he was dead? Why would he leave me a chateau if he kept me a secret from everyone? My mind spins with more questions than answers.
Luc reaches across the table and places a warm hand over mine. “Please let me buy this chateau from you, Aurora,” he pleads. And that pops my bubble. He isn’t telling me his story so they could bond over their mutual love for the chateau; he wants the chateau for himself, and he wants me out.
I pull my hands from his grasp. “Thank you for telling me about your family. But the chateau is not for sale. As per the will MY great-uncle left, if you don’t wish to abide by his terms, you can forfeit the chateau and save us both the troubles.”
The fact that Luc believes he can walk in here and offer me money thinking I will take it and leave stings like a European wasp, leaving a giant swollen welt on my ego. I may not have much, but I have my pride and my dignity.
“I can make you a generous offer, and from the looks of things, you could really use the money.”
I gasp and my brow pinches into a scowl. “You most certainly don’t have anything I need.”
“Everyone has a weakness, Impératrice, you just need to find it.”
My balled fists shake as my vision clouds. “Perhaps, I wasn’t clear enough. You are welcome to leave.” My voice is dripping with acid as I spell it out for Luc, the chateau is not for sale.
“Well, I guess we will see who is standing at the end of the six months then, Impératrice.”
“I guess we will.” I cross my arms over my chest and stick my chin out.
“This is far from over,” Luc echoes the ominous words, turning on his heel to leave.
I guess drinks are off for the foreseeable future.
I bite the inside of my cheek, my nostrils flaring, my gaze hard and cold as I stick my hip out—my don’t fuck with me face on. I’m not about to let him intimidate me. “I wouldn’t hope so,” I warn to his retreating back.
Luc’s shoulders tense as he reaches the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob. He turns his head to hold me in place with his honey gaze. “Don’t forget, Impératrice. I’m moving in,” he says and pulls open the door and storms out.
The moment the door closes, I slump down, all the bravado zapped from my body, and let my head fall between my shoulders, staring down at my hands, thankful Luc didn’t see them tremor. I draw in deep pulls of shaky air in an attempt to calm myself down. Great, now I have a new roommate. But it won’t last long…not if I can help it. Now I just need to work out where the heck we’re both going to sleep.