15. Lily #3
I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know who I am without a fight to win, without a family to destroy, without a wrong to right. I don’t know how to be Lily Maxwell instead of Lily Burton, how to carry the weight of a legacy I barely understand.
But I know I’m not alone.
And right now, speeding down this highway toward an uncertain future with this man’s hand in mine, that’s enough.
***
Mrs. Reid has arranged my first public appearance as the Maxwell heiress: a charity gala at the Whitmore Estate.
The dress is Maxwell family red - the same shade I wore to Edward’s engagement party, the color of war and reclamation. My grandmother’s jewelry glitters at my throat, diamonds and rubies that have been in the family for generations. Looking in the mirror, I barely recognize myself.
But it’s Lucas’s expression that undoes me.
He’s waiting in the living room when I come down the stairs, and he goes completely still. Just... stops. Stares at me like I’m something holy.
“You’re going to make me embarrass myself,” he says roughly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean-” He crosses to me, his hands finding my waist like they belong there. “I mean I’m supposed to escort you into a room full of very important people, and all I can think about is how much I want to take this dress off you.”
Heat floods through me. “We have time.”
“Not enough.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. “After. I’m holding you to that.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.”
We arrive at the gala arm in arm, and the whispers start immediately.
Lucas’s hand finds the small of my back as we enter the ballroom, a proprietary touch that sends shivers down my spine. It’s such a small thing, a gesture couples share without thinking. But we’ve never been able to do this before. Never been able to stand together in public without pretense.
“Everyone’s staring,” I murmur.
“Let them.” His thumb traces a small circle against my spine, hidden by the drape of my dress. “I’ve been waiting three years to touch you in public. They can stare all they want.”
The heat in his voice makes my knees weak.
“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to drag you into a coat closet.”
“Promise?” His lips brush my ear, and I shiver.
“Behave.” I elbow him lightly. “I have a nemesis to destroy first.”
“Then destroy her.” His voice drops to a whisper that makes my stomach clench. “And then I’m taking you home and not letting you out of bed for a week.”
I somehow manage to walk in a straight line after that.
Then I see Victoria.
Uninvited and desperate.
She corners me near the champagne fountain.
“You think you’ve won. But mark my words-”
“No.” I cut her off. “I’m not going to listen to your threats. You’re done, Victoria.”
“Elena wouldn’t cooperate with investigators-”
“Elena would do anything to protect her children from your family’s crimes.”
Something cracks in Victoria’s facade. For a moment, she just looks old. Tired.
“What do you want?” Her voice is a whisper. “What will it take for this to be over?”
I consider.
“I want you to disappear. Take whatever scraps you can salvage and go somewhere far away. Spend the rest of your life knowing you had everything and squandered it because you couldn’t treat people with basic decency.”
I pause.
“And I want you to know I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Because I have the power now. And I’m choosing to show you more mercy than you ever showed me.”
Victoria turns and walks away, shoulders hunched, suddenly fragile. The woman who terrorized me for three years, who tried to erase my existence, who nearly won, diminished to just another aging socialite who overplayed her hand.
I watch her go and feel... nothing. No triumph. No satisfaction.
Just exhaustion, and a bone-deep desire to be somewhere else.
Arms slip around me from behind. Lucas.
I lean back into his chest, letting him take my weight. His chin rests on my shoulder, his breath warm against my ear.
“Are you okay?”
“I thought it would feel better,” I admit. “Watching her lose. But it just feels... sad.”
“That’s because you’re not a monster.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Despite their best efforts to make you one.”
“I want to go home.”
“Soon.” His arms tighten around me. “There’s someone you should meet first. But after that-”
“After that, you mentioned something about not letting me out of bed?”
I feel him smile against my hair. “I mentioned that, yes.”
“I’m holding you to it.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I thought confronting her would feel satisfying.” I lean into him. “It just felt sad.”
“That’s because you’re not a monster.”
Someone clears their throat behind us.
An elderly man in an impeccable suit is waiting.
“Lily Maxwell.” He extends a hand. “I knew your grandfather. I’ve been watching your story with great interest.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Walter Crane. I was your grandfather’s closest friend - and his fiercest rival.” His smile holds decades of history. “I have information about the Maxwell family that even your grandmother didn’t know. Information that changes everything.”