Page 105 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
I closed my eyes, gripping the phone. Vivian. That woman had lost her mind. Fired, reputation in tatters—so she'd drag Lucas down with her, carve an ugly scar into his name.
"What do the lawyers say?" I forced my voice steady. "What are the odds?"
"They pulled office surveillance, my medical records—blood alcohol levels prove I blacked out, incapable of anything. Evidence is solid," Lucas paused, voice heavy. "But you know how American courts work. Discovery, hearings, jury trial—three to four months minimum."
Three to four months.
My hand went to my belly. By then, our baby might already be born.
"So you can't come back," I heard myself say, strangely calm, stating a fact.
"Ella..."
"I understand, Lucas," I cut him off, couldn't let him drown in guilt. "You have to stay in Manhattan for the case. This isn't just about your reputation—it's the company's stock price, theboard's confidence, the employees depending on you. I get it. Really."
A choked sound came through the line.
"I'm sorry," his voice cracked. "Ella, I swear I'll resolve this as fast as possible. I'll put the best lawyers on it, work around the clock, testify myself—"
"Lucas," I said softly, fingers tracing my belly. "Do what you need to do. Win the case. Protect your name. Save your company. Me and the baby—we'll wait."
After I hung up, I slumped on the bed's edge, the phone sliding from my hand onto the comforter.
The room was deathly quiet except for occasional car horns outside. Maya sat beside me, silent, just holding my hand.
Finally, she asked quietly, "So what are you going to do?"
I looked up, past her shoulder, out the window at the city. Rochester's sky was impossibly blue—clean and clear in a way Manhattan's never was. Sunlight spilled across distant streets, everything peaceful and safe.
But this wasn't my landscape.
I took a deep breath and stood.
"I'm going back to Manhattan," I said softly, but every word was steel. "I'm going back to him."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ella
The courthouse steps were packed. Reporters, lawyers, rubberneckers—their voices blended into a droning buzz, loud as a swarm of bees. I stood at the edge of the crowd, feeling the baby rolling restlessly in my belly. Moving constantly. Uneasy for its father.
I stared at those heavy courthouse doors. Clasped my hands together and prayed silently that everything would go well.
For weeks now, the news had been running nothing but hit pieces on the Rockefeller CEO. That psycho Vivian—after her provocation failed, she'd burned every bridge she had left, shredded whatever dignity remained. She'd done interviews with every bottom-feeding outlet that would have her, spinning herself as the innocent victim, spreading lies that were full of holes. And when people called her out on the inconsistencies, she'd just fall back on "I was too scared to remember" or "it happened so many times, the details are fuzzy."
Cases like this in New York were never just about the law. They were public executions, weighted toward gender politics. Throw out "workplace sexual harassment" and you'dautomatically get women on your side, even if the accuser was an obvious fraud.
I'd offered to come to court with Lucas, but he'd refused. He didn't want the media to tear me apart. I was already an innocent victim in all this—he wouldn't let Vivian hurt me one bit more. In his words: Vivian didn't deserve it.
He'd asked me to trust his legal team and his evidence. This time, he would shield me from the storm.
But he couldn't imagine how agonizing the wait was for me. Like being flayed alive, slowly.
Finally, on the day of the verdict, Maya encouraged me to fly back to Manhattan. If I'd already decided to return to Manhattan and build a life with him, I should stand by him in battle. Even if I couldn't fight for him in the courtroom, at least I could be there when the battle ended.
It was ten in the morning. I'd been standing here for two hours. My belly was noticeably round now, and standing this long was taking its toll. My legs were numb, my back starting to ache. I had to stay at the edge of the crowd.
The courthouse exterior was imposing and vast, hundreds of steps stretching up intimidatingly. I couldn't go far. I had to be where Lucas could see me the moment he came out. That was why I was here.
