Chapter 507
Chapter 506:
Dr. Chen offered a few more words — explanation, reassurance, statistics and probabilities. Gaston heard none of it. He was watching Jocelyn, watching her process the news, watching her begin quietly rebuilding the walls she had let down in the helicopter.
When the doctor finally left, the door closing behind her with a soft click, Jocelyn didn’t move. She sat perfectly still, her hand still in his, her eyes fixed on some middle distance.
“Jocelyn p>
“It’s fine.” Her voice was too bright, too quick. “It’s fine, Gaston. We just got ahead of ourselves. It was a fluke. A stupid plastic stick p>
“It’s not fine.” He turned to face her fully, taking her other hand in his, drawing her gaze to his. “You’re not fine. And you don’t have to be p>
Her composure cracked — just for a moment, just enough for him to see it. The flash of grief, of disappointment so profound it bordered on physical pain. Then she was rebuilding, brick by careful brick, the fortress she had lived inside for so long.
“I wanted it to be real,” she whispered. “I was already imagining. A daughter. Your eyes, my stubbornness. I had it all planned out p>
“I know.” He drew her against his chest, his chin resting on her hair. “I was planning too. Names. Schools. The nursery in the penthouse. I already had blueprints p>
She made a sound against his shirt — half laugh, half sob. “Of course you did p>
“We’ll try again.” The words came out fierce and absolute — a promise and a vow at once. “Whenever you’re ready. Next month. Next year. Whenever you want this, we’ll make it happen. I’ll find the best fertility specialists in the world. I’ll build you a hospital wing. I’ll p>
“Gaston.” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Her own were wet, but steady. “We don’t need a hospital wing. We just need time. And each other.” She pressed her palm to his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m okay. Really. Disappointed, but okay. Because I still have you. And that’s enough. That’s more than enough p>
𝘛𝗵𝗼𝘶sа𝗻𝖽ѕ 𝗈𝘧 𝘳𝘦а𝖽𝖾𝗋s o𝗇
He kissed her — slow and deep and full of everything he couldn’t put into words. The relief that she was safe. The grief for what they had lost. The absolute certainty that they would try again, and again, for as long as it took.
When they finally separated, her phone was buzzing on the cushion beside her. She ignored it. So did he.
His own phone, face-down on the coffee table, had lit up with a text from Carter. A single line: DeLuca neutralized. Assets frozen.
Gaston glanced at it, felt nothing, and turned the phone face-down again.
There would be time for all of that later. For now, he had only this — his wife in his arms, her heartbeat steady against his, and the future they would build together, however long it took.
The conference room on the forty-seventh floor of Collins Tower had been designed to intimidate. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, a table of single-piece black granite, chairs that cost more than most cars. Gaston had chosen every element personally, each one calibrated to project absolute, unassailable power.