She nods. “I tracked you down and let him know.”
Anger blazes through me. “You must really want those paintings.”
“They aren’t my main concern. I want Lucas to be happy. I thought you could do that for each other.”
“You know what people say about assuming.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry his love wasn’t enough for you.”
Bitterness churns inside me. It takes all my control to maintain
a somewhat civil tone. “He never loved me. It was all about those damn paintings.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong. He never wanted to marry for them. He told us that loud and clear when our father threw that…ridiculous proposition in our faces.” Elizabeth pauses. “Has he ever hinted he wanted to marry you? Or done anything to trap you into marriage?”
“He was working up to it. He forced me to come to the States. Got me fired at my old job.”
Elizabeth’s mouth thins. “He’s used to getting things his way. But did he ever ask you to marry him?”
I shake my head. “He knew I’d never say yes without some serious convincing.”
She gazes at me somberly. “You can draw whatever conclusions you like, Ava. But don’t blame Lucas for being with another woman if you aren’t willing to fight for what you want.”
Her words hit me like a backhand. Elizabeth has no right to lecture me like this. She’s nobody to me, and I don’t trust her motives. She might be a saint, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want the paintings, too. “Maybe a pretty girl from a nice family doesn’t understand what it’s like for people like me, but wanting and fighting aren’t always enough.”
Elizabeth moves forward, and I almost take a step back before I catch myself.
“You’re awfully prejudiced, aren’t you?” she says.
“Prejudiced?”
“Dismissing me for my appearance and background.”
“And what else do I have to go on? It’s presumptuous of you to act like you know me, and I don’t believe you’re on my side.”
“I know you—and your circumstances—far better than you think. Including your daughter.”
It’s like she’s thrown a bucket of iced water over me. Is this a threat—that she’ll take my child away? I’d never be able to stop Lucas’s family. They’re too powerful, too connected. “I don’t have a daughter.” I manage to force the words out through numb lips.
Elizabeth sighs, letting her shoulders droop for a second before straightening again. “Because you gave her away. You shouldn’t have. We would’ve taken her in.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” I throw the handkerchief at her.
She lets it drop to the floor, over her stilettos.
“And there’s no reason for you to ‘take her in’. She’s not Lucas’s,” I say firmly.
I start walking away. Her gaze on my back feels like a knife digging between my shoulder blades. My hands are shaking again, and I make fists so she won’t see how badly I’m reacting. How does Elizabeth know about Mia?
I stop at the revolving door leading outside—I don’t even remember how I got there—and turn around. Elizabeth is gone.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas
I pull away from Faye as the limo door closes behind us. “Did you get the reaction you wanted?”
“Oh yes. My snotty little ex is probably drying his tears on his tux sleeves.” She smiles. “Thank you.”