CHAPTER NINE

“I want to take the offer,” Angelie repeated, voice firm despite the storm churning in her chest. “But I don’t want to leave the country.”

“I can’t leave my brother here.”

Jeffery blinked. It was rare to see him thrown off, but he didn’t speak right away.

She stood across from him like she wasn’t trembling inside. She was hoping that the offer was still on. She was more than determined to walk through this path, just for him.

Finally, he stepped around the desk, his arms folded. “Why not?”

She hesitated. “I have… reasons.”

He studied her. “Lucas?”

She looked away, not answering.

Jeffery didn’t push, but something flickered in his eyes.

“You can take the program anywhere,” he said, voice low. “I’ll arrange it. You don’t have to go to Paris. New York. LA. Wherever you want. I just…” He exhaled. “I just want you to purse your dream.”

Angelie nodded slowly.

“New York,” she said.

“Done.”

She smiled a little. A tired smile. “Thank you.”

He gave her a nod, hands still in his pockets. But he watched her for a long second before she turned to leave.

“Angelie.”

She paused.

“If something’s wrong…”

She shook her head. “Don’t ask me to tell you what I can’t. Just trust that I need this.”

And then she walked out.

***************

Elsewhere in the Lu estate, the mood wasn’t as calm.

It was a very cool afternoon, but the sun didn’t come out to play

Amaya Lu stood by the window of her bedroom, one hand resting on the curtain, the other wrapped tightly around herself, lost in thought

Morris was behind her, dressed in a plain blue T-shirt and shorts. He looks like the younger version of his son, Jeffrey.

“I spoke to Grandpa again,” she said quietly.

Morris sat on the edge of the bed, tired. “And?”

“He still doesn’t approve. Of me. Of us. After all these years, Morris. After everything.”

Morris looked up. “He’s stubborn. He’s always been.”

Amaya turned. “He tolerates me because of you. Not because he ever accepted me. And now, with everything falling apart, I feel like a stain that never washed out.”

Morris stood and walked over, taking her hands gently.

“You are not a stain. You are my wife.”

“You mean, your mistresses for many years”

“If your late wife didn’t die, would you have looked our way”

She looked at him, searching for answers that she already knew, “I thought as much”

“Is just so tiring, Morris. Being the second option. My only problem was being born into a poor family and failing for you”

“What was I thinking, believing that Grandpa Lu would someday accept this gardener’s daughter”

Silence.

Morris cupped her face. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying maybe we should’ve never gotten married. Maybe I was never meant to be part of this family. Maybe Luca wouldn’t have grown up carrying all this pain if I had just left when I was supposed to.”

Morris’s grip tightened. “You are the only thing I’ve done right in this house. Whatever else happened—”

“I switched them, Morris,” she whispered. “That was not ‘right.’ That was desperation.”

He stepped back, stricken, but didn’t respond.

“I love you,” she said. “But I’ve lived twenty years in shadows. Maybe it’s time to let go

Morris looked away.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

“You already did once,” Amaya replied softly. “It won’t be different now.”

**********************************

Three days later.

Angelie stood outside Lucas’s bedroom door. Her knuckles hovered for a moment before she knocked twice and pushed it open.

Lucas was lounging in a leather chair near the window, sipping something dark from a crystal glass. He looked up, unsurprised.

“Well, well. Look who finally decided to knock.”

She ignored the dig. “I need to talk to you.”

He raised a brow. “This sounds serious.”

“I’m starting a culinary program. In New York. It’s already arranged. I won’t be staying here anymore.”

Lucas set the glass down carefully. “Is that right?”

“I’ll be staying with my cousin. I’m not leaving the country. I know the terms of our contract.”

Lucas stood up slowly, crossing the room until he was just a foot away. “And I suppose Jeffery had a hand in this?”

She didn’t answer.

Lucas gave a dry laugh. “Of course he did.”

Angelie kept her tone steady. “You always said I could live my life, as long as it didn’t interfere with yours. This doesn’t.”

Lucas stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Be careful, Angelie. You might think you’re walking out clean, but we both know you’re still mine. And there’s always a cost.”

She looked him in the eye. “Then I’ll pay it. Just not with my soul.”

She turned and left the room, her heart hammering in her chest.

Angelie and Julia picked Tim up from the hospital the next day. The drive was quiet, but Tim looked better, tired but smiling, his strength slowly returning.

When they got home, Angelie helped him settle on the living room couch. She covered him with a blanket while Julia hovered in the kitchen,  eyes stuck on her phone.

Angelie sat beside her brother. “You look way better,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.

He gave her a crooked grin. “Still ugly, though.”

She laughed and nudged his shoulder. “You scared me.”

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too.”

He glanced around. “So where have you been? You weren’t picking up your phone yesterday.”

She shifted in her seat. “I had to go uptown. Some work stuff.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You working now?”

“Kind of.”

“What kind of work?”

Angelie hesitated. “I’m doing a cooking program. Like real training.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

She smiled. “Yeah. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

He looked at her for a moment, then leaned back against the pillow. Julia had gone upstairs now, and it was just them.

A few seconds passed.

Then Tim looked at her again.

His voice was soft, calm.

“When did you intend to tell me?”