Chapter 32
Elora
"If you dare bring me that godforsaken green slime one more time, Elora, I swear to God I'll call Rocco right now and have him dump the entire Mount Sinai kitchen staff—along with your attending physician—straight into the Hudson."
The man in the hospital bed was pale as death, glaring daggers at the bowl of mint-flavored liquid nutrition in my hands like it was a weapon of mass destruction.
"Save it, Mr. Genovese." I pulled up a chair and settled beside his bed, unapologetically scooping up a spoonful and holding it right up to his pressed lips.
"Dr. Harrison was crystal clear—your GI tract is still fragile from post-op complications.
Unless you want to tear those stitches in your side, open up. "
His brow knotted into a death scowl, his jaw clenched so tight the bone jutted out. We locked eyes for a solid ten seconds. Finally, he caved. His Adam's apple bobbed once, and with a look of pure despair, he opened his mouth and swallowed.
I couldn't help it—I laughed. But inside, I was thanking God over and over.
Ten days ago, Lucien had collapsed on top of me, covered in blood, his breathing so shallow it barely existed. I really thought my world was about to end. They worked on him for sixteen straight hours. I begged God a thousand times—just let him live, and I'd do anything.
"What's so funny?" His expression was priceless. "You enjoy watching me eat this crap?"
"I just think you're much cuter like this." I stirred the bowl slowly, deliberately drawing out my words.
His breathing hitched. Those gray eyes went dark instantly. Suddenly his free hand shot out and locked around my wrist resting on the bed rail, his fingers stroking lightly.
"Elora... I..." His voice dropped low. "What happened before, I..."
"Shh." I turned my hand over and gripped his. "Lucien, what's done is done." I met his gaze, forcing my voice steady. "But right now, I have something really important—extremely important—to tell you. After you hear it... just promise me you won't get worked up. Your wound can't reopen."
Lucien's spine went rigid instinctively. He squeezed my fingers back, hard enough to make my knuckles ache.
"Tell me. I'm listening."
I bit my lower lip, feeling cold sweat forming in my palm.
"About Leo..." I stared into those gray eyes, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it would burst through my chest. "Actually... when I left the manor four years ago, I found out I was..."
"Leo is my son."
The words I'd prepared shattered in my throat. I stared at him in disbelief. "What... what did you say?"
Lucien let go of me and ruffled my hair, leaning back against the pillow with a smug grin.
"I said, Leo is my biological son. I've known for a while."
"How could you possibly know?" I shot to my feet. "You stalker! When did you go digging?"
"I'm innocent." He raised an eyebrow, his gray eyes flashing with amusement. "That day Leo wanted his kite—he came right up to me to blow on my wound and generously donated a strand of hair in the process."
I was furious. Thinking back to how I'd been so careful afterward, desperate to keep Leo a secret from him—I felt like a complete fool.
"Lucien Genovese!" I was livid, landing a punch on his good right shoulder. "You scheming liar! If you knew, why didn't you say something? You just sat there watching me agonize over how to tell you like an idiot?"
He grunted but didn't dodge. After my fist landed, he reached up and gently stroked my flushed cheek.
"Because if I said something, I'd have the right to claim my son. But I was afraid..."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid you'd think I was trying to take your child away." His voice lowered. "You traded your life for Leo. I was absent for four years—did nothing. I had no right to demand anything."
Tears flooded my eyes instantly. This man had lost me four years ago in the stupidest way possible, but in those four years he'd learned to wait, learned to give me back the power to choose.
"Lucien..."
He leaned down, his warm lips covering mine, cutting off whatever I was about to say.
I melted under his kiss, my legs going weak, finally letting out a soft sound from my nose as my arms obediently wrapped around his neck, surrendering completely.
The door got a perfunctory rap before being pushed open without ceremony.
"Boss, I brought some— Oh! Jesus Christ!"
I sprang away from him like I'd been electrocuted, my face hot enough to fry an egg. I frantically straightened my disheveled cardigan collar, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Lucien shot death glares at the two intruders at the door.
Rocco stood there awkwardly with his hands up, while Enzo kept his eyes down like he'd seen nothing, though his bronze face had turned bright red.
"I swear, we didn't see a thing." Rocco let out a dry laugh, quickly setting down a thermal container on the side table. "It's just... Mr. Moretti said he wanted to visit. He's been waiting in the hall for twenty minutes, and I saw the nurse go to change dressings... so..."
Julian was here. Lucien's face darkened. I took a deep breath and turned to him. "I'll go see him."
"No!" Lucien's voice was sharp, his face stubborn.
"Lucien." I leaned gently against his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "He helped save me. I should see him."
Lucien's chest heaved violently twice before he finally gave in, though his expression remained foul.
I walked out of the room. Julian stood at the end of the corridor, looking somewhat forlorn. When he saw me approach, complex emotions flickered in his eyes.
"Elora."
"Julian, you came to see him?"
"More accurately, I came to see you." He handed me an elegantly wrapped rectangular wooden box. "For him. 1964 Macallan single malt."
I blinked. "He absolutely cannot drink right now. Dr. Harrison will kill someone."
"I know," Julian smirked with wicked amusement. "That's the point. Who told him to be too tough to die? Consider it torture—let that bottle sit by his bed and taunt him."
I couldn't help but laugh quietly, taking the box.
"By the way, I dropped Leo off at Natalie's." Julian smiled slightly. "The little guy said he misses you."
"Thank you." Warmth spread through my chest. I glanced at the suitcase by his feet. "You're leaving?"
Julian's gaze landed on my ring finger, then moved away.
"I'm going back to Italy for a while." He sighed, reaching up to smooth my wrinkled collar. "My father passed away two months ago. The Moretti family can't be without a head forever. And... I think there's no room here for me anymore. Right?"
My heart clenched with sudden pain. For four years, this man had given me unconditional tenderness and protection. Leo adored him. He'd pulled me out of despair when I needed it most.
"Julian, I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize, Elora." He cut me off. "In love, there's no such thing as who came first—only who lost the bet. I tried to build you a greenhouse without wind or snow. But I forgot—you'd rather dance on cliff edges with that mad dog."
He smiled, his eyes holding some regret but utterly clear.
"Tell Lucien Genovese he'd better guard his life carefully and worship you every damn day. If he ever makes you suffer even a little, I guarantee I'll bankrupt him."
"I'll pass that along." My eyes reddened as I opened my arms.
Julian stepped forward and hugged me tightly.
"Take care, Elora. Give Leo a kiss for me."
He released me, turned, and strode toward the elevator.
Fifth Avenue, Manhattan.
Champagne cascaded down crystal towers while camera flashes exploded like lightning in a thunderstorm. The grand opening reception for the Serenity Essence flagship store had attracted nearly half of New York's elite society.
I wore a severely tailored, backless emerald silk velvet gown, smiling through the media frenzy and the polite small talk of society matrons.
Four years of growth, combined with the world-class temperature-controlled fragrance lab Lucien had built, had transformed Serenity Essence from an obscure little shop into the East Coast's most coveted destination for aromatherapy and therapeutic beauty treatments among the wealthy elite.
Lucien leaned against the glass railing, whiskey in hand. Those gray eyes were locked on me, burning with undisguised obsession and fierce pride.
I was no longer that insecure, lost girl from four years ago who needed him as a shield. Lucien had given me the sky to grow, and I'd become an oak tree strong enough to stand beside him.
I raised my glass to him from across the room. His lips curved into a devastatingly sexy smile as he drained his whiskey in one swallow.
As the reception wound down, Enzo approached and bowed respectfully. "Ma'am, the boss is waiting for you on the rooftop terrace. Says it's very important."
Puzzled, I gathered my dress and took the private elevator to the fifth floor. The moment those doors opened, I froze solid.
The autumn Manhattan sky glittered above, but the usual lounge furniture and umbrellas were gone.
The entire five-hundred-square-meter rooftop had been transformed into a miraculous floating forest. Everywhere I looked—flowers airlifted from Madagascar and the Alps, with perfect soil and climate control systems. This private garden of scents bloomed wild and unapologetic above Manhattan's steel jungle.
In the center of the flower sea, a tuxedoed string quartet played a soaring, soulful melody. Lucien stood at the end of a path paved with white roses. The night breeze stirred his suit jacket, and his hard features looked impossibly soft against the flowers.
He saw me emerge and strode forward, grasping my hand and leading me to the center.
"Lucien, are you insane? Where did you get all these..." I covered my mouth, my eyes instantly welling up. The overwhelming shock left me incoherent.
"If I could, I'd have moved that entire black pine forest and the whole town to New York." His voice was low as his fingers traced my burning cheek adoringly.
He drew a deep breath. The music softened until only the Manhattan night breeze and his breathing remained. Then, slowly and solemnly, he dropped to one knee in the sea of flowers. Tears spilled from my eyes without warning, my heart racing so fast it felt like it would explode.
"Elora." He looked up at me. "Four years ago, I was a blind fool who threw away my only faith. You walked through the hardest years alone with Leo, proving you're a queen with or without me. But I have to admit—without you, Lucien Genovese is just a pathetic corpse rotting in the mud."
"You don't have to say this..." I choked out, trying to pull him up, but he stubbornly gripped my hand.
"I once crushed half of New York under my heel, but now I only want to kneel before you for the rest of my life."
The glass doors behind the flowers opened, and Leo ran out in a miniature black tuxedo. He clutched a black velvet box tightly, running to me, but unlike usual, he didn't immediately beg for cake. He looked up at me with unusual seriousness.
"Mommy. Daddy said this ring is what he owes you. He also said from now on, he and I will protect you together."
My tears broke completely free. Leo handed the box to Lucien, then stepped back and stood straight like a little soldier. Lucien opened it—a ring with a pigeon-egg pink diamond blazed brilliantly.
"Elora, I'm laying everything at your feet—my fortune, my life, my loyalty. Will you marry me again, let me spend the rest of my days atoning for my sins, and let me continue being your loyal subject?"
"I will, Lucien." I nodded hard. "But I'm warning you—the chocolate cake is mine from now on."
Lucien laughed with pure relief. He slid the ring firmly onto my finger, then pulled both Leo and me into his broad chest.