Chapter 289

Chapter 289
Lucy's POV

Her voice echoed in my ears, sharp and cruel. "You're worthless to him. Absolutely worthless."

Ivy Wilson's face hovered above me, her pale fingers gripping a needle connected to a transfusion tube. My blood flowed through the tube, spreading dark red against stark white sheets.

"You're just a temporary replacement," she mocked. "Ethan will come back to me in the end."

I tried to scream, tried to break free, but my limbs felt heavy as lead. The room began to spin, and suddenly we were on a rooftop, wind howling around us.

"Time to let go," Ivy whispered, her hands pushing me toward the edge.

I teetered, arms flailing desperately. The ground below rushed toward me—

I jolted awake, my heart violently hammering against my ribs. For a moment, I didn't recognize my surroundings—luxury leather sofas, gleaming glass coffee table, Manhattan skyline visible through floor-to-ceiling windows. Dawn was breaking, painting the sky in soft pinks and grays.

Right. Alpine Group headquarters. After the chaos with Helen Wilson and our reconciliation, Ethan had brought me here rather than returning to either of our apartments.

My mind replayed the nightmare, an involuntary shiver running down my spine. Even now, two years later, Ivy's face could still haunt my dreams, her words cutting into my subconscious like knives. Would I ever truly escape her shadow?

I turned to find Ethan still asleep beside me, one arm possessively draped across my waist. In sleep, his face relaxed, all tense lines disappeared, making him look younger, almost vulnerable. A wave of love washed over me.

God, I'd nearly lost him forever—all because of a fake diary and the stubborn pride of two people.

After a quick shower, I slipped into one of Ethan's shirts and a pair of my jeans that had been left here long ago. The jeans hung loose around my hips—I'd lost weight during my hospital stay.

I wandered through the quiet executive suite, eventually finding my way to Ethan's corner office. The massive glass desk dominated the room, with panoramic views of New York awakening below. I settled into his leather chair, spinning slightly, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne.

The door opened without warning, and my spine stiffened when I saw the familiar figure walk in.

Natalie Smith—dressed in a beige pantsuit and red-bottomed heels. Her makeup was flawless, blonde hair elegantly pulled into a bun. She halted when she saw me, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.

"Ethan's not in yet?" she asked, holding a paper bag and a tray with two coffee cups. "I brought his breakfast."

Two coffees. My stomach tightened. Did she bring him breakfast every day? How close were they, really?

"He's still sleeping," I replied calmly, my eyes fixed on those two coffee cups. "You can leave it here. I'll make sure he sees it when he wakes up."

She hesitated, then placed the items on a side table. "Very well. I got all his favorites."

"Thank you for taking such good care of my husband," I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She tilted her head slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Of course, Ms. Owen." She paused deliberately, giving me a leisurely once-over. "Though I must say, seeing you here is quite... unexpected."

"I should remind you," I leaned forward slightly, "it's Mrs. Storm."

The air seemed to solidify, the surrounding noise somehow muted in an instant. Her gaze locked with mine, her smile still in place but hardened.

Before she could respond, the door opened again. Ethan stood there, hair still damp, wearing casual pants and pulling a T-shirt over his head. His eyes immediately found me, relief flooding his face.

"You're up early," he said, crossing the room to plant a kiss on my forehead. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Thought you needed the rest," I said, aware of Natalie's eyes on us.

"Good morning, Natalie," Ethan finally acknowledged her presence.

"I brought your usual breakfast," she smiled, though I caught a hint of tension in her voice. Such a good actress.

"Your assistant brought your favorite breakfast," I echoed, raising an eyebrow at him. "Seems you two have quite the morning routine."

Ethan's mouth twitched. "Do we now?"

"You seem close," I commented, keeping my tone light. "First-name basis, knowing your breakfast preferences..."

He grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "Lucy, are you jealous?"

"You wish," I answered, rolling my eyes, though I felt heat creeping up my neck. Because yes, damn it, I was jealous—even knowing their relationship was just for show, seeing this perfect blonde bringing him breakfast still irritated the hell out of me.

Ethan reached for the paper bag Natalie had brought, then stopped. Instead, he picked up my half-eaten bagel. "I'll just finish yours."

"Hey, I wasn't done with that!"

His smile turned wolfish. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're well-fed later..."

He suddenly pulled me into his arms, completely ignoring the fact that we weren't alone. I meant to protest, but his lips were instantly on mine, gentle yet insistent. His fingers threaded softly through my hair, his other arm tight around my waist.

"God, Lucy," he whispered against my ear, "I've been dreaming about you sitting in my chair like this, wearing my shirt, for two years."

I felt my cheeks flush but couldn't help smiling. His fingers traced the contours of my face gently, his eyes filled with undisguised love, as if no one else existed in the world.

Natalie stood there, her expression stiff, fingers twisting together unnaturally. She cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable and awkward.

"I... I should go prepare for today's meetings," she stammered, avoiding eye contact, "if you need anything, please just—"

"Thank you, Natalie," Ethan said without turning around, his gaze still fixed on me, "cancel all meetings for today, I'm spending time with my wife. Don't disturb us unless it's an emergency."

A flash of undisguised disappointment crossed her face before she quickly nodded and practically fled. As the door closed behind her, I couldn't help laughing out loud.

"You're terrible," I accused, though my smile betrayed me.

"Terrible?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, "I'm just making my priorities clear to my employee."

He kissed me again, more passionately this time, making me nearly forget we were in his office.

"You enjoyed that scene, didn't you?" he murmured against my lips.

"Maybe a little," I admitted, a smirk playing on my lips. "Poor thing looked like she'd seen a ghost."

"She'll survive," Ethan chuckled, pulling me closer. "Now, about that breakfast I promised you..."

---

Hours later, as I stepped out of the elevator heading to my apartment, Cole suddenly burst from his doorway, blocking my path. My mood instantly froze over.

"Lucy, thank God you're finally back," he said, his eyes filled with anxiety and pleading. "I heard Helen Wilson kidnapped you! Are you okay? Were you hurt?" As he spoke, he reached toward me as if to confirm I was unharmed.

I stepped back, folding my arms, looking at him coldly: "I'm fine. Was there something you needed?"

He bit his lip, obviously stung by my attitude, then asked cautiously: "She didn't... hurt you, did she? You look exhausted."

Anger boiled inside me. How dare he pretend to care now?

"You have no right to inquire about my condition," I said coldly, each word dropped like an ice cube. "My physical state is none of your concern."

Cole's face instantly paled. "Lucy, are you serious? After all these years we've known each other..."

"You got back together with Ethan, didn't you?" he suddenly asked, his voice trembling with a hint of desperation.