Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 38

MY FATHER'S STUDYI'd been avoiding this room. His sanctuary. The place he'd spent hours working on business, reading, thinking.The place where he'd had the heart attack that started everything."I can do this room," Lucas offered. "You don't have to...""No. I need to." I pushed the door open.It looked exactly like he'd left it. Papers on the desk. Reading glasses next to his computer. A half-finished cup of coffee, now moldy.I picked up the coffee cup while shaking hands."He made this the morning of my engagement party," I said. "The day everything fell apart. He was sitting right here when I called to tell him about Marcus. He said—" My voice broke. "He said, 'Come home, sweetheart. We'll figure this out together.'"Damien took the cup from me gently. "We don't have to do this room today.""Yes, we do. I can't keep avoiding it." I sat in my father's chair, and it still smelled like him. "He spent so much time in here. Fighting to save the business. Trying to protect me from how

I opened to the beginning. The first entry was dated three years ago, right when the business started failing.The investors are pulling out. One by one, they're losing faith. I can't blame them—the numbers don't lie. We're hemorrhaging money.But I can't give up. This company is my legacy. My father built it. I grew it. I can't let it die on my watch.Isla doesn't know how bad it is. I've shielded her from the worst. She's engaged to Marcus, planning her wedding, building her life. I won't burden her with my failures.I read entry after entry. Watched my father's slow descent into financial panic. His attempts to hide it from me. His guilt about the burden.Then, an entry from six months ago:Richard Cross approached me today. Said he could make my problems disappear. Said his son needed a wife for an inheritance, and I had a daughter who needed money.He offered me a deal: convince Isla to meet Damien. Orchestrate a situation where they'd see the mutual benefit.I told him to go to

I was in my studio, working on a painting for the first time in weeks, when Sophie called."So I heard you and Damien had a fight this morning," she said without preamble."How did you—""Lucas told me. Damien apparently showed up at the office laughing about it. Said it was the best fight you'd ever had."I smiled to myself. "It was about dishes.""I know! Normal couple stuff! I'm so proud!" Sophie sounded genuinely delighted. "This is huge, Isla. You're having regular fights about regular things. That's relationship health right there.""It felt stupid.""All the best fights are stupid. The dishes fight. The thermostat fight. The 'you never put the cap back on the toothpaste' fight. These are the building blocks of a real marriage.""When did you become a relationship expert?""Since I've been planning weddings for five years and have seen every kind of couple. Trust me, the ones who only fight about big existential things? They don't last. The ones who fight about dishes and make-u

The crowd had thinned. Most people had left with promises to "stay in touch" and "absolutely purchase a piece."I stood in front of my father's portrait, the one painting I'd refused to sell. A piece I'd done from memory, trying to capture his smile, his warmth, his essence."You did it, Dad," I whispered. "I actually did it.""He's proud of you," a voice said behind me.I turned to find my mother standing there, dressed impeccably, her expression unreadable."Mom. You came.""Of course I came. You're my daughter." She looked at the portrait, her face crumbling slightly. "That's—that's really him. You captured him perfectly.""Thank you.""I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "For not being there. For leaving you to deal with the house alone. For being—for being a coward."I didn't know what to say. My mother never apologized. Ever."I loved him, you know," she continued. "Once. A long time ago. Before life got hard and I got bitter." She touched the edge of the painting. "He never stopped