Chapter 150
Ethan
I watched Noah settle himself next to Ella on the sand.
"Hey, little princess," he said to my daughter with that easy charm. "Want Uncle Noah to help you build a castle more impressive than the New York skyline?"
Ella looked up at him curiously, her small fingers already busy with her plastic shovel. She nodded enthusiastically. Noah caught my gaze and winked.
"Looks like my charm still works with my youngest fan," he called out.
I forced a smile, feeling that familiar twist of regret in my chest. I'd missed so many moments like this. Three years of sandcastles and beach days I could never get back.
My eyes drifted over to Lucas. He was sitting by himself several yards away, building his own sandcastle with the same intense focus I use when analyzing market trends. The resemblance was unsettling—like looking at a miniature version of myself.
"Need some help there, buddy?" I made sure my voice didn't sound like I was addressing the board of directors—softer, gentler.
Lucas didn't even look up, just continued focusing on his sandcastle with the same intense concentration.
I crouched down beside him, trying again. "That tower looks really great. Would you like me to help you with some decorations?"
"No thanks, I can do it myself." His voice was cool, distant—like talking to a stranger rather than his father.
I masked the hurt that flashed through me, staying patient despite the rejection. I remained nearby, watching him work, occasionally making careful suggestions. "Maybe we could add a moat on this side?"
Before he could respond, Noah spoke up.
"Hey kids, let's have a little competition!" he announced with perfect timing. "Who can build the sandcastle that looks most like the Manhattan skyline? Judges will be very impressed by creativity and height!"
Ella clapped her hands excitedly, while Lucas merely gave a disinterested nod, purposefully avoiding my gaze.
Noah shot me a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, this isn't Wall Street cutthroat competition—just a friendly match."
I appreciated his effort to diffuse the tension, even if it highlighted my own failure to connect with my son. When I tried to kneel down to help Lucas, he quietly but firmly said, "I want to do it myself." I stepped back, swallowing hard. Three years of absence couldn't be fixed with one beach trip, I reminded myself.
He suddenly jerked back when sand got on his polo shirt. He began frantically brushing at it.
My first instinct was to stop him from making it worse, then I remembered Amelia's gentle criticism of my controlling tendencies.
"It's okay," I said softly. "Clothes can be washed. The important thing is that you're having fun."
Lucas looked up at me in surprise, clearly expecting a lecture. For a brief, precious moment, something like recognition passed between us before his expression closed off again. But that momentary connection gave me hope.
"Wow," Noah teased. "Wall Street's most ruthless investor is learning new parenting skills."
I shot him a warning glare that would have sent my executives running for cover.
My phone rang, interrupting the moment. I checked the screen—Grandfather. Stepping away from the others, I answered, my posture automatically straightening.
"Grandfather," I said warmly.
"Enjoying your injury vacation, are we?" George's familiar voice held its usual mix of affection and sarcasm. "Your father's been handling most of the company matters lately. He's exhausted, but don't let that ruin your beach time."
"Yes, the vacation is going well despite my injuries," I replied, feeling a twinge of guilt about leaving Dad with extra work. "We needed this time as a family."
"Speaking of family," George continued, "I've got news. Your cousin Felix is getting engaged to Emily Thompson."
"Felix is getting engaged to Emily Thompson?" I repeated, glancing quickly at Amelia to gauge her reaction to hearing her stepsister's name. "That's... unexpected."
Unexpected and potentially problematic. Emily was Margaret's daughter, and both had made Amelia's life difficult. This engagement would inevitably force Amelia to interact with her estranged family more often.
"The announcement will be next month," George continued. "They'll expect the family's presence, including yours and Amelia's."
"If Amelia doesn't want to return to the Black family social circuit, I won't force her," I said firmly. "Her happiness comes first." After everything I'd put her through, the least I could do was shield her from uncomfortable social obligations.
"Good," George said, surprising me. "You're learning, grandson. Now, let me speak to my great-grandchildren."
"One moment," I said, then called out, "Lucas, Ella, your great-grandfather wants to talk to you."
Ella's face lit up instantly. She scrambled to her feet, sand flying everywhere as she raced toward me, reaching for the phone. "Great-Grandpa George!" she squealed into the receiver.
I smiled, watching her animated conversation about sandcastles and seashells. When she finally handed the phone to her brother, I witnessed a transformation that felt like a punch to the gut.
"Great-Grandfather!" Lucas's voice carried genuine warmth I'd never heard him use with me. "I miss you too. Did you get any new coins for your collection? I've been practicing my handwriting like you showed me."
I moved closer, desperately wanting to be part of this rare moment when my son actually seemed happy. But Lucas subtly turned away, his body language excluding me completely.
When the call ended, I tried again. "Your great-grandfather misses you. When we get back to New York, I can take you to see him."
Lucas just nodded briefly. "Okay," he said, then immediately returned to his sandcastle, the wall between us firmly back in place.
"What's wrong?" Noah remarked when I rejoined them.
Felix is marrying Emily," I replied.
"Wait, isn't that Amelia's stepsister?" he asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes," I nodded. "You know what Felix has been like lately. His parents are desperate to marry him off, and Emily is ambitious enough to take on the challenge."
Noah frowned slightly. "So she'll have to face them at all the family functions now? That's rough."
"Social rules are dead constructs," I said firmly, meaning every word. "People are alive. She doesn't need to conform to family politics."
It was clear Felix had been overindulging, which was affecting his health and performance, and his parents were eager to push him into marriage. Only someone like Emily, who’s only in it for self-interest, would be willing to stay with him.
I was still trying to figure out how to break the news to Amelia in a way she could handle. Clearly, Emily might do something to harm Amelia out of revenge for her mother, Margaret.