16. Family Drama
Alexander
As I step closer to Sam to look at her work, I’m not prepared for the blow it deals me.
The sketch is incredibly powerful, bursting off the page like a relief sculpture, but what truly takes my breath away is the intensity of my own gaze that she has captured so perfectly.
It looks as though I’m devouring the viewer with my eyes.
Except it isn’t a stranger I’m looking at like that.
It’s Sam.
My heart leaps in my chest. Is that really how I look at her—with that… that hunger in my eyes? That blend of vulnerability and desire?
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur softly, low enough that only she can hear.
She looks up at me, uncertain, her cheeks faintly flushed, her lips parted. My heart pounds harder. It’s only then that I realize Sam unsettles me.
But since when?
Suddenly, her phone rings, shattering the moment. She pulls it from her pocket and glances down at the screen. I see the word “Dad” appear, and I feel her entire body stiffen. For a second, she freezes, as if hesitating to answer.
Then she picks up and brings the phone to her ear. Without even looking at me, she reaches out her free hand. Her fingers close around mine, gripping tightly, as if drawing strength from the contact. That instinctive trust shakes me to my core.
“Good evening, Dad,” she replies in a calm voice she’s far from feeling.
I can feel the tension vibrating through every muscle in her body.
“How could you do something like that to your sister?” Arthur roars, loud enough that even Mara and Emelyne can hear him from behind the kitchen counter.
I see Emelyne exchange a worried look with Mara. They move closer, quietly, in solidarity.
Sam pulls the phone slightly away from her ear, grimacing at the volume.
“And what exactly did I do?” she asks, never losing her composure.
“You stole your sister’s boyfriend,” he snaps. “I didn’t raise you to be a bitch.”
The word cracks through the air like a slap. Sam absorbs the blow. I feel anger surge through me. I reach for the phone, ready to defend her, but she tightens her grip on my fingers and gives me a reassuring smile. She wants to fight her own battles.
As hard as it is not to intervene, I understand. So I stay right there, holding her hand in mine, offering silent support.
“Because I’m the bitch?” she asks softly, almost with a hint of amusement. “I’m not the one who cheated on her boyfriend, Dad. You must be confusing me with someone else.”
I’m speechless. That she dares to speak to her father like this stuns me. I’ve always known Sam had backbone, but this… damn. She’s incredible.
“Don’t you talk about your sister that way!” Arthur growls. “She made a small error in judgment—there’s no need to make such a big deal out of it.”
The silence that follows is icy. I see Sam’s jaw tighten.
“At least you’re very clear about where your moral compass lies,” she retorts, dripping with sarcasm.
Damn. What a woman.
“You are going to stop this farce right now, do you hear me?” Arthur shouts. “And you will apologize to your sister and pray she agrees to forgive you!”
Her hand trembles slightly in mine. I tighten my grip, letting her know I’m here.
“Or what, Dad?” Sam asks, her voice dangerously calm.
“Stop this childish nonsense! You’re going to deny these so-called engagements immediately, or I’ll make you regret it.”
“That’s not happening,” Sam fires back without hesitation. “I won’t let Kristel blackmail Alexander. My decision is final. I’m not changing my mind.”
My heart swells in my chest. She’s fighting for me. She’s standing up to her father for me.
“You’re nothing but an ungrateful little brat! If you don’t change your attitude, you can forget about us.”
I feel Sam take the hit. Her breathing stutters for a fraction of a second. In the kitchen, I hear Emelyne choke back an indignant exclamation.
“Was I ever really part of this family?” Sam asks, and her voice cracks slightly on the last word.
“I have never been so disappointed in anyone in my entire life,” Arthur declares, his coldness sending a chill through me.
Sam straightens her shoulders. Something hardens in her gaze.
“The feeling is mutual.”
And she hangs up.
The silence that follows is deafening. Sam remains motionless, phone still in hand, eyes fixed on the black screen. I see her throat tighten as she swallows with difficulty.
I’m in shock. I never would have believed Arthur could treat his own daughter that way, nor imagined a father could be so cruel, so unjust.
Without a word, I pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist and sinks against me, her forehead coming to rest on my shoulder. I feel her trembling, her entire body racked with shivers she’s desperately trying to control.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I never should have dragged you into this.”
“It was my choice,” she whispers in a muffled voice. “Don’t take that away from me.”
Her hand clenches in my T-shirt, as if anchoring herself to something solid. I tighten my embrace, wanting her to understand that she can lean on me as much as she needs.
I nod against her hair. Yes, it was her choice. And the fact that she made it for me, despite everything it cost her, shakes me more than I want to admit.
Until today, I had no idea she carried such strength within her. Watching her stand up to her father, defend me when she had everything to lose… it stirs something deep inside me.
Something I’m afraid to name.
Little by little, Sam regains control of her emotions. She gently pulls away, wipes her eyes with a quick gesture, then straightens her shoulders. That mask of strength she puts back on breaks my heart.
“Well,” she says with a smile that fools no one. “Shall we eat?”
We help Mara set the table while Emelyne pulls her dish out of the oven. The smell of quiche Lorraine fills the apartment, comforting. The four of us sit around the small table, and despite the lingering tension in the air, we do our best to make the evening as pleasant as possible for Sam.
It’s Sam, however, who ends up lifting our spirits.
“Oh, by the way, I didn’t tell you,” she says between bites of salad. “I had a meeting this afternoon with an art gallery. The owner agreed to take three of my paintings on consignment.”
“That’s amazing!” Emelyne exclaims, nearly jumping out of her chair.
“Wow,” Mara says with a broad smile. “That’s fantastic news!”
“I knew you’d make it,” I tell her, genuinely happy for her.
My heart swells with pride. Despite everything she’s going through, Sam keeps moving forward, keeps fighting for her dreams.
“I still can’t believe it,” she says, and for the first time that evening, her smile reaches her eyes. “It’s incredible! But which pieces should I show?”
“We’ll look at that this weekend,” Emelyne suggests. “We’ll sort through them together.”
“Sounds good,” Sam replies.
After dinner, I don’t linger. I have a long day tomorrow, and even though I’d like to stay to make sure Sam is okay, I can tell she needs space to process everything that happened.
She walks me to the door after I say goodbye to the Lacroix sisters.
“Good night, Sam,” I say, turning to her. “And remember—if you need anything, you call me, no matter the time.”
She smiles, but I can’t help worrying. What happened with Kristel, then with Arthur, was brutal. I’m afraid of the aftermath it might have on her.
We exchange a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye, but tonight I feel her presence with a new intensity.
The brush of her cheek against mine, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body so close…
I pull away reluctantly. And as I head down the stairs, it feels like I’m leaving a part of myself behind.
Gilles is waiting downstairs and drives toward my penthouse when my phone rings. Andrew.
Just what I needed.
I answer with a sigh.
“I saw your announcement and the attacks against Sam,” he says without preamble. “How is she?”
“You know her,” I reply. “She’s holding a lot inside, but she’s not alone. The Lacroix sisters are with her.”
Then I tell him everything about Kristel’s visit and the phone call from their father.
“Between us,” I add, “I never thought your family would behave like that. I knew your father was disappointed that Sam didn’t choose a conventional career—not that he was unjust and downright cruel to her.”
A heavy silence follows my words.
“Kristel has hated Sam since the day she was born,” Andrew finally says in a dark voice. “She couldn’t stand the competition, the idea that she wouldn’t be the only one getting attention. My father, unwilling to upset her, always favored her at Sam’s expense.”
“And your mother?” I ask, even though I already think I know the answer.
“Mom? She’s a submissive woman. She does whatever our father tells her. She never once spoke up for Sam, never defended her. Why do you think I asked you to keep an eye on her when I left for Lyon for school?”
I understand what he isn’t saying. The guilt he carries for having left his little sister alone to face that toxic family.
“Sam had no one else,” I murmur.
“Exactly,” he confirms. “Even now, even with the Lacroix sisters, she needs you. Especially since you’re the one who pulled her into this mess. So don’t disappoint me. Watch over her.”
The threat is clear, but I can’t blame him. In his place, I’d react the same way.
I take a breath, then ask:
“Tell me, Andrew… is it true that Sam was in love with me three years ago?”
Silence follows my question. A silence so long I think he’s hung up. Then his answer comes, cautious:
“That’s a question you’ll have to ask her yourself.”