Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucas
After dropping Ella off at her rented apartment, I stood downstairs, waiting for the light in her window to flick on.
A cool breeze slipped down my collar, easing the heat buzzing through me.
My fingers fumbled the lighter three times before it sparked.
The smoke hit my lungs, nicotine swirling inside, that familiar dizziness finally taming the fire in my veins.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number in Manhattan's Upper East Side.
It connected faster than I'd expected. Grandpa's old voice carried the irritation of a late-night disturbance.
"When's Ella coming back? Don't tell me you haven't fixed this!"
I exhaled a puff of smoke, playing it cool. "Ella's pregnant. Five months."
Dead silence on the other end. I could picture the old man—who'd ruled a business empire for decades—his pupils shrinking, beard bristling in a ridiculous grimace.
"Five months? You idiot, your wife's been pregnant for five months and you're just finding out?"
"I took her for a checkup tonight. I only heard the OB-GYN's diagnosis just now," I sighed, emotions tangled. "She hid it from me for five whole months. If I hadn't chased her to Rochester, I might not have known I was a dad until the kid was born."
Grandpa burst out laughing. "This is great news. The Rockefeller family finally has an heir. Good job, boy."
I didn't respond. I knew what was coming next. Sure enough, his tone turned serious.
"So when are you bringing your wife and kid home?" He lowered his voice. "You can hand off work to the managers, but you need to come back personally. The board's old fogeys need to see your face, hear your assurances, before they'll play ball with the pros. You get me?"
"I know." Grandpa had hammered this point a dozen times.
"When?" He gave me the ultimatum, impatience sharp.
"Soon as I can."
He went quiet for a couple of seconds.
"You have to come back and handle your duties," he commanded, no room for argument. "Your kid can't be born into a crumbling empire. Handing over a thriving business—that's the best gift a father can give."
I hung up and spotted the orange glow in Ella's window.
Stars dotted the rooftop sky. Rochester's were brighter, more plentiful than Manhattan's. I remembered dropping her off, how she sat in the passenger seat, hand propping her face, staring at the stars. Her light blue eyes reflected them, sparkling like diamonds.
Ella was my heaven. I didn't want to leave her for a single day.
But Grandpa was right. It was time to go back.
I'd flown straight from Northern Europe to Rochester. Work in Manhattan had piled up into a total mess without me. As the boss, face time in the social circles mattered more than remote calls.
The next day, after wrapping up loose ends, I headed to the hospital to see Ella, like always.
Through the ward's small window, my gaze locked on her.
She wore a loose beige hoodie, her waistline softer, rounder.
It hit me. Two weeks ago, I'd Googled why she was gaining weight, thinking I'd cracked it.
Pathetic. If I'd just asked a doctor properly, I wouldn't have dragged this out.
I could've been better to her, taken care of her.
I mustered my courage and pushed the door open.
"Ella," I called softly. "Can we talk outside?"
She was sorting Maya's anti-rejection meds. Maya smiled at her, grabbing the pillbox lid. "Go on. I'm not a kid."
Ella grumbled an okay.
We stepped into the hall. She turned her back to me, staring out the window. Sunlight filtered through tree branches, casting a shadow of loneliness across her face.
I hesitated, unsure how to start, but she beat me to it. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
I froze. "How'd you know?"
"It's obvious," she said, turning, looking worn out. "It's in your eyes."
"What's with my eyes?" I trailed off, because hers changed. Those gentle light blue eyes, usually full of warmth, brimmed with sadness, ready to spill. She hid it well, lips pressed tight, but I saw it—reluctance, a plea to stay.
My heart clenched.
I realized, when she looked at me, my eyes probably mirrored the same.
"You still mad at me?" The thought of her being pregnant and us fighting days ago choked me up.
She shook her head. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
I couldn't hold back. I pulled her into my arms. Pregnant women gain weight, they say, but Ella felt light, soft.
My arms wrapped her back, her forehead against my chest, her breath seeping into my skin.
Everything went quiet. Just the faint hum of the heating vents.
We held on, like we wanted to melt into each other's bones.
"Company stuff can't wait anymore," I said. "Gotta head back to Manhattan. But I'll be quick."
She stayed silent.
"Ella, look at me."
She did.
I bent down, cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. Then I kissed her, light, like I might break something precious. Her lips were impossibly soft, tasting faintly of mint.
"I don't want to leave you," I whispered.
"I know," she murmured. "I get it."
"You won't pull that divorce stunt the second I'm gone, right?"
She glared, tears streaking her cheeks, trying to look mad. "Am I that unreasonable?"
I laughed, tweaking her nose. "Nah, you're the most reasonable Mrs. Rockefeller in the world."
That bit of banter lightened the looming goodbye. At least we could laugh and talk like a normal couple.
"Come back with me," I blurted before leaving. "Manhattan's got the best doctors."
"No," she shook her head. "Maya can't handle more upheaval. She loves Rochester, wants to stay."
"Okay," I respected that, like she did my choices. "I'll be back soon."
She nodded. Her eyes reddened, but no tears fell.
My hand slid down her slim back, tracing each vertebra, finally gripping hers. Her fingers were cold; I wrapped them in my palm, interlocking tight, like locking in the warmth forever.
"Before I go, I want to take you somewhere."
"But Maya..." She hesitated, her constant worry.
But it got resolved quickly—not by me, by Maya.
She laid down the law, reminding Ella they'd been apart once and she'd been fine, proving she didn't need round-the-clock care.
To seal it, I hired two VIP nurses. I swore, not even an ant could get near Maya while Ella was gone.
Ella finally agreed, but gave me just one hour.
I drove her to a top-tier apartment building in downtown Rochester. The city's tallest, priciest landmark. I swiped into the private elevator, taking her straight to the penthouse duplex.
The doors opened, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows pulled in the city's sprawl. Horizon stretched far, streets rolled below, clouds skimmed so close you could touch them.
"One of Rochester's best spots," I said from behind, watching her lips part in awe.
"Penthouse duplex, three thousand square feet, four bedrooms, five baths.
Private study, gym, sunrise terrace. Top security, priority doctor access.
Maya can take the first-floor guest room post-discharge—best light. "
She turned to me. She seemed to get it, but disbelief lingered.
"Why bring me here?"
"Because it's yours." Firm.
She froze.
Then she shook her head like it'd burned her, yanking her hand free.
"No, Lucas. Too much. Our relationship was over... okay, maybe we're back together, but no gifts this extravagant. I'm fine. I don't need luxury like this."
I strode over, blocking her escape. Backed her against the window, cool glass and my heat trapping her.
"Not charity, Ella. This is what you deserve. Best place, top care. And," I dropped my gaze to her belly under the loose clothes, voice rough, "our kid shouldn't grow up in some cramped, dim rental. He should open his eyes to the world from up here."
I reached out, hand gentle over the soft fabric, stroking her stomach.
That's my child.
She trembled hard, a tiny protest escaping her throat, but my touch left her weak.
I knelt on the thick cashmere rug, eyes level with her bump. Reverent, I leaned in, lips pressing the slight curve through her hoodie. My blood, growing there—fingers shook at the thought.
"Lucas, don't. This isn't right..." Her voice broke, trembling, but it only fueled me.
I ignored it. Fingers hooked her hoodie's hem, pushing up slowly, determined.
Noon sun poured unchecked through three walls of glass, lighting everything stark. At this height, privacy vanished under endless blue sky, shame and thrill brewing wild in the air.
"Lucas, please..." Her hands gripped my shoulders, half-stopping, half-not.
I looked up. Her face glowed holy in the light. I steeled myself, stood, yanked off her hoodie, baring her smooth, pale skin to the sunlit glass—like creamy silk. My breath hitched. Hands circled, unhooked her bra. It dropped, her perky pink nipples budding, cute, inviting.
Pregnancy had rounded her curves, that lush, ripe temptation hitting me with her scent. My cock strained against my pants. I couldn't hold back—pinned her to the cold window, hot palm pressing her swollen belly.
"Lucas," she quivered. "I'm scared."
"I'll be careful," I promised. "Swear."
Outside, endless blue skies stretched above us, sunlight blazing down while the entire city sprawled far below like a forgotten toy.
I kissed her hard, mouth, throat, and collarbone, then dropped between her thighs and devoured her pussy. Her body jolted violently, trembling between fear and raw need.
My fingers found her soaked entrance. One thick digit slid in, instantly gripped by scorching, velvet heat. She clenched around me, skin flushing deep crimson, breath stuttering. The bright high-altitude light left nothing hidden—every shy quiver, every desperate twitch burned into my eyes.
I added a second finger, stretching her open, feeling her slick inner walls suck greedily at my knuckles. Her nails dug into my shoulders as her breathing turned ragged.
"Fuck… so wet for me, baby," I rasped, voice low and rough.
She arched sharply, a broken moan tearing from her throat. Those light blue eyes glazed with tears, silently begging.
I held her gaze for one heartbeat, then clamped my large hand firmly over her eyes, blindfolding her with my palm. No more hiding. Only sensation. Only me.
I pulled my fingers out, gripped my throbbing cock, and pressed the swollen head against her dripping pink folds. With one slow, relentless push, I parted her tight petals and sank inside. Her walls clamped down like a fist, squeezing me so hard my thighs shook.
Then I thrust, deep, to the hilt.
She yelped, nails raking down my back.
"Hurt?" I panted against her lips.
"No…" Her voice was a shaky whisper, eyes still covered. "Don't stop… please."
I wrapped my big hand around her slender throat, tilting her head back, and crushed my mouth to hers. My tongue invaded roughly, tangling with hers, sucking it into my mouth as saliva spilled messily between us.
I started moving, slow, heavy strokes, each one dragging my thick ridge along every sensitive inch inside her. She opened for me, greedy and slick.
"Look at me," I growled, finally lifting my hand from her eyes.
Tears clung to her lashes as she obeyed. Her gaze was wild, drowning.
"I love you," I breathed.
She didn't answer with words—just pulled me down into a desperate, hungry kiss.
I kept the rhythm, watching my glistening cock slide in and out of her, her swollen folds clinging and flipping with every thrust.
Then I grabbed her legs and hooked them high around my waist. She locked them tight, pussy spread wide open for me. The new angle let me drive even deeper, the head of my cock slamming her sweet spot with every brutal stroke.
Wet, filthy slaps filled the air.
"Look at me, Ella."
Her face twisted in helpless ecstasy. A long, shattered whimper tore from her throat, high, raw, nothing like her usual voice. Then her whole body seized as hot, gushing waves flooded around my cock. Her walls spasmed violently, milking me in tight, rhythmic pulses.
The feeling destroyed me.
My thighs locked, release crashing through me like lightning. I groaned savagely, hips pounding hard a dozen more times as thick ropes of cum surged deep inside her, filling her completely.
She screamed, arms and legs clamping around me like she wanted to fuse our bodies into one.
We stayed locked together, panting, trembling, spent—our hearts hammering against each other in the bright, endless sunlight.
She rested her head on my shoulder, body still quivering from the aftershocks. Then I heard a faint sob.
Hot tears dripped onto my skin.
Ella was crying.
I didn't know if it was joy or pain, but my heart felt squeezed, nearly breaking.
"Keep the place," I kissed her tears. "I need to know where you are anytime. It's safe here."
She lifted her head, round eyes teary, locked on mine. Lashes wet like dew-kissed butterfly wings. She raised her hand, fingers tracing my brow, nose, settling on my lips.
Then she tiptoed, pressing soft, warm lips to mine.
This kiss was worlds from the fire before. Gentle as a feather on water, tender care.
When she pulled back, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glossy from it.
"Okay," she whispered, voice husky, sweet. "I'll wait for you here."