Chapter 1
Lucy's POV
"We haven't been together for so long..." Ethan Storm's breath was hot against my neck, his hands already working on the buttons of my silk blouse. "Do you want me fuck you?"
I turned my face away, trying to focus on the morning sunlight streaming through our Central Park West apartment windows. I should have gone straight to the hospital from the federal prison, but I'd wanted to change out of my prison clothes first. Now here I was, caught in my husband's embrace when my grandmother lay dying.
"Ethan, I must go to the hospital—"
"Just this once!" Just this once!" His kiss silenced my protest. His touch was familiar yet desperate. My body betrayed me, responding even as my mind screamed about my grandmother waiting in her hospital bed.
Ethan nibbled on my earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. His strong hands roamed possessively - one gripping my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space between us, while the other tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. I gasped as his lips traced a burning path down my neck, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
His heat rubbed hard against my pussy. "Shit!" A growl rumbled from his throat as I struggled, his eyes turning dangerous and wild. The more I tried to escape, the tighter he held me. He roughly kneaded my breasts, the calluses on his fingertips grazing my nipples, making me shudder.
Suddenly, a sharp slap landed on my ass, making me cry out. "Don't even think about running," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse and dominant, "I'll fuck you to death." The sharp sting mixed with pleasure and pain, making me arch against him.
My vision blurred as Ethan's huge dick thrust into me hard, sending waves of electric pleasure coursing through my body. My scalp tingled, and my toes curled. Oh, god.
"Fuck... you're so tight," he groaned.
"No... please stop," I begged between gasps. "I can't take it..."
"Shh, just relax," he said hoarsely, his gray eyes boring into mine with predatory intensity. "Let me make you feel good." His muscled body glistened with sweat as he took me.
He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle of thrusting until I cried out. In the bright sunlight, Ethan reached back and ran a hand through his hair, sweat dripping down his handsome face and across his tight chest. He smirked as he watched me come undone beneath him. When I tried to squirm away from the intensity, he grabbed my ankles and pulled me towards him, deepening his movements.
"Let me go ...... I'm dying ......"
I moaned and then suddenly kept shuddering as his dick ground into the sensitive uterus all at once. I twisted his dick violently. Ethan stifled a grunt as a rush of heat rushed through me, the intense pleasure setting off a burst of fireworks in my head.
When he finally finished, the sun was high in the sky. I lay naked on the big bed, exhausted. After the frantic pleasure of being fucked, a void swept over me, and I gazed at my husband.
He casually buttoned up his black shirt, his long fingers gracefully sliding over each button. The top two buttons were deliberately left undone, revealing a glimpse of his firm chest. The shirt clung to his broad shoulders as he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, the solid muscles of his forearms rippling with each movement. His dark hair framed his chiseled features, while his sensual jawline traced a perfect path down to his Adam's apple.
Fucking sexy.
"Come with me to see grandmother?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
He threw a bank card at me without even looking at me. "I've got an emergency board meeting later. Take this for any expenses you need." The black card gleamed in the sunlight. "Think of this year as a sabbatical, Lucy. It'll be over before you know it."
A sabbatical. As if federal prison was some kind of luxury retreat.
I smiled sarcastically, my heart twisting with pain.
I ordered chicken soup from Uncle Owen's restaurant on my way out. The doorman's carefully averted eyes reminded me that no amount of designer clothes could hide where I'd spent the past year.
The private wing of Storm Family Hospital sparkled with wealth and privilege. My grandmother lay still among white sheets, an oxygen mask obscuring her face. She looked so small, so fragile.
"Grandmother?" I took her hand, feeling the paper-thin skin beneath my fingers.
Her eyes fluttered open, a brief smile crossing her face as she recognized me, then shifting to urgency. Her free hand fumbled beneath her pillow, pulling out an antique pocket watch.
"Lucy..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "About your parents—"
I leaned down closer, straining to catch her faint words.
The door suddenly crashed open with a bang, making us both jump. Ethan burst in, his face cold. "Lucy!" His voice was sharp with urgency. "You need to come right now. Ivy—" He paused. "She needs blood. Immediately."
"What? No, I just got here—"
"You're the only Rh null match in the tri-state area. This is life or death."
My fingers tightened around the watch. "Grandmother is dying. I'm staying!"
"You don't have a choice." His voice turned to steel. "Or have you forgotten your current status?"
The watch felt impossibly heavy in my hand. I looked at my grandmother, seeing the desperation in her eyes. "I'll be right back," I promised, kissing her papery cheek.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
They took too much blood. Eight hundred milliliters – well beyond the safe limit. The world spun as I stumbled back to grandmother's room, using the wall for support.
The silence hit me before I reached the door. No steady beep of monitors. No hiss of oxygen. My heart stopped.
"No," I whispered. "Please, no."
But the room was already empty, the bed stripped bare. The smell of disinfectant burned my nostrils, suddenly overwhelming. A nurse was efficiently disconnecting equipment, her face professionally sympathetic when she saw me.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "She passed about twenty minutes ago. Very peacefully."
My legs gave out. The world spun. I slid down the wall, the antique pocket watch digging into my palm where I still clutched it. Hot tears blurred my vision as grief crashed over me like a wave.
Twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes too late.
"Where..." My voice cracked, each word feeling like broken glass in my throat. "Where is my husband?"
"Mr. Storm is in the surgical waiting area," she replied. "Miss Wilson's procedure is still ongoing."
Of course he was. Where else would he be?
I sat there on the cold hospital floor, my arm aching where they'd drawn blood, my grandmother's last unspoken words echoing in my head. The pocket watch ticked softly against my chest.
I lost the person who loves me the most, completely, I thought numbly as tears rolled silently down my cheeks.
The morning sun had set, but my day of freedom wasn't over. I had six more hours before I had to return to my other prison. Six hours to grieve the only person who had truly loved me, while my husband kept vigil for the woman he wished he'd married instead.
I pressed my forehead to my knees and finally let the tears come. I didn't know how long it took, but I looked up and through my blurry vision I saw Ethan in the doorway, the phone pressed to his ear.
"Yes, Ivy's responding well to the transfusion... Of course I'll stay with her, Helen... The best care, I promise..."
I glanced out the window with a numb sense of pain. Outside, Manhattan's skyline sparkled, indifferent to my loss.
"The guards are waiting downstairs." Ethan's voice cut through my grief like ice. He didn't even look at me as he continued texting on his phone. "You know the rules - straight back to the correctional facility. We can't have a convicted felon wandering around the hospital."
The words hit harder than any physical blow. I stood up slowly, my legs still shaky from blood loss, and took one last look at the empty bed. My grandmother seemed to be trying to tell me something before dying.
What secrets did you take with you, grandmother?