24. Luke

HearingGianluca come back shakes me into some sort of action. I'm still staring at the phone, wondering where I even start with this. I'm supposed to be trying to find connections between Mullen and the Reapers, and instead, I'm sitting here terrified of making a simple phone call to the Duke and Duchess of Glenmorrow to inform them they can stop hunting down a would-be wife for me because I'm in love with Victoria.

"This is going to be so bad." I finally give myself a mental kick and press dial. The ring of the phone in my ear is a dreadful sound, echoing my accelerating heartbeat.

"Luke, darling," my mother's voice cuts through the annoying ringing.

"Mum," I answer, swallowing hard.

"It's so good to hear from you," she chirps. "It's been too long."

I press my fingers into my forehead as if that could stem the rising tide of guilt. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Never mind that now," she says breezily. "How are you?"

This is it. The moment of truth. I take a deep breath before plunging headfirst into the deep end; there's no going back now. "Is Dad there as well?"

"Yes, of course."

"Would you put the phone on speaker?"

I wait as I hear my mother faffing about trying to figure out how to do that. I smile, and suddenly, I relax.

"Okay," my mum shouts. "Are you there?"

"I'm here, Mum, and you can talk normally."

"Okay," she shouts again.

"Luke!" Dad's voice booms over the airwaves. "What's all this fuss about?"

"Mum, Dad," I start, my voice shaky despite my best efforts to keep it steady. "I've met someone. Her name is Victoria Stroud."

Silence greets me from the other end of the line - an ominous quiet that threatens to swallow me whole.

"Victoria Stroud? Charles and Mary's daughter?" My mother finally breaks the silence, her tone flat and unreadable.

"Yes," I confirm grimly.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Are you serious about her?" She sounds more curious than anything else now.

"I am."

Silence stretches between us again before she speaks up, her voice faint.

Dad hasn't said a word.

"Are you sure about this?" Dad finally pipes up. "She isn't Scottish."

Chuckling, I shake my head. "I'm aware."

"And you're serious?" Mum repeats, her voice somehow distant despite the phone pressed against my ear. I can hear the strain in her voice, even as she tries to keep it out of sight.

"Completely."

My answer hangs in the air between us like a confession, raw and unbearably honest. There's another pause—longer this time—before Dad clears his throat.

"Well," he drawls slowly. "This is unexpected."

"No shit," I mutter, unable to help the curse, even though I know it'll earn me a reproachful tsk from Mum.

"Language, Luke!"

Predictable.

"I'm sorry, Mum," I apologise half-heartedly. It's all just a part of this fucked up dance we're doing, pretending that this isn't going to turn our world upside down.

"This is unprecedented. We thought you were seriously thinking about Lady Fiona." Dad's words cut through the tension like a knife.

I swallow hard, already preparing for the onslaught of emotions that will come with that statement.

Fuck.

"No, I was never seriously thinking about her or any of the others. You wanted me to, but I don't want her or anyone else. I want Victoria." God, this is going painfully bad. I can't break it to them that Victoria is also involved with the Prince of Esteria and my best mate Cian Gannon, who is now already head of his family. What a fucking shit show.

The line has gone silent again. It's as if they've dropped the phone and walked away—maybe they have.

"Mum, Dad?" My voice echoes back at me from the other end. A hollow sound fills my room, shouting out the only truth I've spoken in months.

There's a rustle at the other end, then my mother's voice. It sounds different, strained, like she's struggling to hold back a wave of tears.

"Oh, Luke…" she murmurs. Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but the weight behind her words slams into me like a sledgehammer. The confusion and disappointment couldn't be clearer if she'd spat it out.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, trying to clear the lump forming in my throat. I'm not sorry for loving Victoria. Not by a fucking mile. But I am sorry for the pain it's causing them.

"Are you sure about this?" Dad's voice cuts through my thoughts. His tone is icy cold and unnervingly calm—different from Mum's emotional turmoil.

"I love her," I answer defiantly.

There's another long pause. Mum sniffles quietly in the background, and I can imagine Dad rubbing his temples in frustration while deliberating over how to handle this situation. Finally, he speaks up again.

"Are you happy?"

The question throws me off guard.

"What?"

"Are you happy?" He repeats patiently.

I pause for a moment, taking in the simple question. Happy. I don't remember the last time someone asked me if I was happy. Nobody seems to really care about happiness. But am I happy?

"Yeah," I say finally, my voice raw with emotion. "I'm happy."

The line goes silent again. In the background, I hear Mum's soft weeping and Dad's quiet sigh.

"Alright," he says curtly. "That'll have to be enough for now."

With those final words, he hangs up the phone, leaving me alone in my room with a heavy silence hanging over me like a shroud.

Suddenly, everything feels real. The consequences of my actions start to take shape in the form of my parent's disapproval. But despite their disappointment, they just want me to be happy. Victoria makes me happy.

Coming clean about Victoria is disorienting. While there's still more that remains hidden, the biggest thing has been achieved. They know I'm not choosing Fiona, Carrie, or any of the other ‘acceptable' choices.

So that is all that matters now.