The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(140)

“You know, princess,” Elliot leans over the hospital bed, placing a kiss on my forehead before smoothing a hand over Elsie’s. We’re in a private room, soaking up every second of our babies’ first hours on earth. “We wrote a pretty epic tale for ourselves.”

I chuckle despite the pain it causes, looking down at our future. “One for the history books?”

“Damn straight it is.”

My head tilts. “Do you think Elsie looks like you or me?”

“Hmm…”

Elliot shuffles around beside me, but I’m transfixed on her.

“She’s seems so small compared to Ralph.”

“Well, I think she has my nose but my wife’s lips.”

“Wife?” I lift my head, finding Elliot standing with a ring poised in his fingertips.

I’m stunned to complete silence.

“I don’t have a speech planned, Luce. I bought this ring knowing you’d be my wife one day, but no moment has been special enough to give it to you. I don’t know…. this feels right.”

I nod through my tears as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking my hand.

“I love you so fucking much. More today than I ever thought was possible, and yet tomorrow’s never felt so exciting. There’s no one else I want to do this with. This is it for me. You three are it for me.”

I purse my lips as salty tears coat them, choosing to not speak.

“Marry me, princess. Be my wife.”

I nod. “Yes,” I whisper, my hand shaking as he lifts it. “Of course, I will marry you.”





CHAPTER SIX





THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER





Lucy





Three Years Later


Lowerwick Estate, London: Antlis Memorial Ball


If there’s one thing the Lowells know how to do, it’s to throw a party. We’re at the estate, set up as a family in the east wing in one of the house’s largest rooms. Of course, Elliot’s parents will be taking the twins back to Rosestone later tonight.

We’ve had them here with us for the week while we prepare for the ball, but my husband is an insatiable man when it comes to time with his wife, and who am I to get in the way of that?

I’m sliding the back on my earring as I walk out onto the balcony, searching for my tribe, when I find the three of them looking out over the estate. Elsie and Ralph both standing on what I know are two very expensive plant pots, their best shoes collecting soil onto the soles.

Elliot stands between the two of them, his muscular back stretched wide under his white dress shirt as he leans on the wall.

“Can you tell us the story again, Daddy!” Elsie pesters, tugging on Elliot’s sleeve. “The one about the princess and the pact.”

Ralph grins at his sister, nodding when his dad looks to him for hype.

Elliot leans down further, making them huddle in closer. “It was seven years ago on this very night. The grounds were lit up like they are now, and the string quartet was playing so loud, you could hear them all the way at the end of Nanna and Papa’s lane. People were—”

“Was Papa Anthony and Nanna Ellis deaded still?” Ralph cuts in, frowning down at the garden where Mason’s parents are buried.

I lift my hand to stifle my laugh.

“Yes,” Elliot tells him. “Yes, they were.”

“Oh,” Ralph mutters, dropping his head.

“That’s a really sad story, Daddy,” Elsie sighs, not impressed as she drops to one knee and climbs to the floor.

Her eyes light up again when she turns. “Mummy’s dress!” She runs for me, and I scoop her up. “It has so many flowers.”

“You’re not terrorising Daddy, I hope?”

Elliot smiles over his shoulder, righting himself and helping Ralph down.

“You look like a princess!” Ralph tells me, coming closer and fiddling with the sheer overskirt on my dress.

My children are beautiful, but I can’t help my eyes fixating on Elliot as he walks toward me, a look on his face I’ll never tire of.

“She does,” he agrees, coming to a stop and gazing down at me. “Hello, wife.”

“Hi.” I smile.

“Daddy! Elsie!” Ralph gasps, his expression one of pure excitement as if he’s just figured something out. “A catchy beat and a dress made of magical flowers,” he tells them, holding up my dress.

“See, Elsie?” Elliot smirks, tapping her shoulder and bending down to one knee. “Sometimes you have to trust that the happy ending will come, even when the story seems really sad.”

My heart swells, and I swallow the lump in my throat as Elliot looks up at me and winks.

I love you.

“I love you, too.”

I hear our bedroom door open then clatter shut, the sound of a broken sob carrying out onto the balcony.

Both Elliot and I frown, Elliot rising to his feet before striding into the bedroom.

“Scarlet?” he questions, halting in the middle of the room.

I take the twins’ hands and follow him in, my heart racing as I take in my friend. “Scar? What is it?”

She looks up at us, her mascara running as she holds a trembling fist in front of her mouth. “Lance,” she says, breathless. “It’s Lance. He’s being released. He’s—”