Chapter 23
Alison
Five days had passed since Lucas left without a word. Five days of checking my phone, of wondering why the man who'd kissed me so tenderly would vanish without explanation. Five days of watching Leo ask when his daddy would come back to teach him more "wolf things."
"Soon, sweetheart," I'd tell him, though the doubt grew stronger with each passing day.
I was in the garden of the Black estate, watching Leo chase butterflies, when Victor appeared on the stone path. He was impeccably dressed as always, his expression concerned.
"Alison," he greeted, his voice gentle. "I was hoping to find you here."
I straightened, instantly wary. Victor had stayed away since the event at the engagement party to give me space to get used to the new life that had been suddenly thrown at me.
Of course, soon, I would have to return to my duty as the Vice President of his company, but for now, he'd given me the go-ahead to acclimate to my new life.
Which was why I was surprised to see him here.
I remembered the date we had, a couple of days before the engagement party that changed everything. He'd bought me a bracelet and Leo a model train set. He'd been amazing, and I knew he had some feelings for me, but he'd never acted fully on it before.
The same date that Lucas had almost crashed the date. I sighed quietly and committed to putting Lucas out of my mind for the moment.
"Victor. What brings you to the Black estate?"
He hesitated, seeming genuinely uncomfortable. "I've been debating whether to speak with you. But as someone who cares about you, I can't stay silent."
My stomach tightened. "About what?"
Victor gestured to a nearby bench. "May I?"
I nodded, and we sat, keeping a respectful distance between us. Leo was still within sight, laughing as he played with a fallen leaf.
"I know you've been seeing Lucas Hawkins," Victor began, his tone carefully neutral. "And I know he's Leo's father."
My head snapped up. "How did you—"
"The resemblance is striking," he said simply. "Anyone who knows Lucas would see it."
I swallowed hard, uncertain how to respond.
"Alison, I wouldn't involve myself in your personal affairs if I didn't feel it was important." He reached into his jacket and withdrew a manila envelope. "But there are things you should know about Lucas's intentions."
My hands trembled slightly as I accepted the envelope. "What is this?"
"Evidence," Victor said quietly. "Of the true reason Lucas suddenly developed an interest in you."
I opened the envelope, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Inside were several glossy photographs—Lucas and Victoria together, looking intimate, her hand on his chest, his arm around her waist. The timestamp on the photos showed they were taken last week, after the broken engagement.
In the week, I had tried endlessly and futilely to contact him.
He'd left me and he'd left Leo to be with Victoria again? I couldn't understand it.
"This could be anything," I said, though doubt crept into my voice. "A business meeting."
"Turn to the next one," Victor urged gently.
The next photo showed Lucas kissing Victoria's cheek, her expression triumphant. I felt sick.
"There's a report as well," Victor continued, his voice somber. "From a private investigator Lucas hired to research the Black family's assets after William announced you were the true heiress."
I flipped through the report with growing horror. It detailed the Black family holdings, my potential inheritance, and outlined a strategy for "securing the alliance through marriage." My name was circled in red.
"He began pursuing you only after learning your true identity," Victor said softly. "I'm sorry, Alison. I know this must be painful."
That wasn't true, I knew. Lucas and I, we've had encounters before the truth came out about my heritage.
But I couldn't deny that those encounters had been mostly physical, and this emotional connection I was developing with him, the softening of heart that had recently come upon me, and Lucas's sweet and perfect nature dexterously winning back all started after the engagement party.
He must have known William would disrupt the party to tell the truth about my heritage, and that was why he broke off his engagement with Victoria at that time.
It couldn't be true. I tried to convince myself that I was just making assumptions that were unfounded.
But these pictures, these documents. I took a look at them again, and the glee on Victoria's face seemed directed at me.
It was as though she was telling me she won.
I remembered what she said to me in the hallway after William cut off from his will and told her she couldn't live at the estate any longer.
This isn't over. Do you hear me? This will never be over. I will destroy everything you love, just as you've destroyed me.
A chill ran over me just thinking of it.
"I don't want to believe this," I whispered.
"I understand. There's something else you should know," Victor added hesitantly. "Victoria has been telling people that she and Lucas are working things out privately. That the engagement party was just a... misunderstanding."
I remembered the possessive gleam in Lucas's eyes when he kissed me. Was that just another game to him? Another way to secure the Black fortune and strengthen his position against Victor?
"He seemed… he was genuine. He liked Leo. Leo likes him also!" I said, my voice hollow.
Victor's expression was genuinely sad. "Lucas Hawkins loves power, Alison. Everything else is secondary."
I gathered the photos and report, tucking them back into the envelope. My mind was spinning, my heart splintering into jagged pieces. I'd allowed myself to hope, to believe that Lucas had changed, that we could create something real together for Leo's sake.
"Thank you for telling me," I said finally, standing on unsteady legs. "I should get Leo inside."
"Of course." Victor rose as well. "I'm here if you need anything, Alison. No strings attached. Just as your friend."
I nodded numbly and called to Leo, who came running, his small face flushed with exertion.
That evening, after putting Leo to bed and picking up my phone and with tears streaming down my face, I typed a text to Lucas: Don't contact me again.
Days passed in a blur of meetings with my parents, play dates for Leo, and work on my independent financial consulting projects. I avoided any mention of Lucas, though I caught William watching me with concern in his eyes. Had he known about Lucas's schemes? Had everyone known but me?
A week later, still with no word from Lucas, I stopped expecting to hear the gatebell and started dreading silence instead.
I thought maybe I'd get used to it with time, but it was proving insanely difficult.
I had let Lucas consume me totally, and it was hard to purge him out.
One evening, Victor came to see me again.
It was Leo who brought Victor into the house.
I'd heard the light thud of Leo's feet racing across the foyer, followed by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Then his voice—cautious, curious.
"Uncle Victor?"
When I came downstairs, Victor was already crouched in the hallway, smiling as Leo held out a toy plane, mid-explanation of its wings being "better than real ones."
"Hey, champ," Victor said, taking the toy from Leo's outstretched hand. "Still designing your fleet?"
Leo nodded, watching as Victor turned the plane in his hands.
I hovered at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of how to enter the scene. Victor looked up and stood, brushing invisible dust off his jacket.
"Alison," he said with a soft smile. "I hope it's not too forward dropping by like this. I just… wanted to check on you."
He looked good—polished as always, neat in that unshakable way of his—but his voice held something gentler than usual. No pressure. No sales pitch.
"I wasn't expecting company," I said, folding my arms loosely. "But… thank you."
We moved to the living room, Leo bouncing between us like a curious referee.
Victor didn't crowd. He sat on the edge of the couch, let Leo do most of the talking, occasionally asking thoughtful questions about school and toys, and superheroes.
I watched them from the armchair, nursing a lukewarm cup of tea.
Leo laughed at something Victor said—something about inventing a flying sandwich—and for a moment, I saw how much effort Victor was putting in.
It wasn't flashy. He wasn't trying to win anything.
He was just… present. And Leo responded, tentatively.
He laughed, yes, but there was still a subtle reserve in his body language.
No leaning in, no spontaneous hugs like he gave Lucas.
It was polite interest, not the bond that had formed so naturally with his father.
Still, I appreciated it.
After Leo wandered upstairs, mumbling something about finishing his "mission," Victor turned to me.
"You look tired," he said gently.
"I am tired," I admitted. "I'm exhausted, Victor."
A silence settled between us, not uncomfortable but heavy with unsaid things.
Then, without fanfare, he made me laugh. Really laugh.
He was recalling the first time we worked together—some chaotic product launch in rainy season traffic, our suits soaked, presentation slides ruined. The way he imitated my panicked voice and the client's horror made something break inside me—a damn I didn't know was still holding.
I laughed. And it felt… strange. Like stretching a muscle I hadn't used in weeks. I pressed my hand to my chest, surprised by the lightness.
Victor smiled. Not victorious, not smug. Just… glad.
When he stood to leave, he paused at the door and turned to me.
"There's the year-end gala this weekend," he said. "You probably know—it's on the company calendar. I was wondering if you'd come… with me."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.
"Not as a statement or anything dramatic," he added. "I just think it might help. Something to distract you, to get you out of the house. I'll be there. And I promise, I'll be a good companion. I won't leave your side."
I looked at him then. The man offering kindness without strings, calm in the storm. And I hated that it felt comforting.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll come."
He nodded. "It's a date then."
He smiled again, soft and restrained, and then he was gone.
I stood at the doorway long after his car disappeared down the driveway. The wind stirred the trees around the estate, and in the quiet, I felt the ache again, like a ghost brushing past my ribs. How long would the pain persist, I wondered?