Chapter 22 - Cohen

Everything I've done for the past two years has led to this moment.

I stand at my study window, watching fresh snow blanket the grounds of the Delacroix estate while sipping my bourbon before tonight begins.

My phone buzzes with a message from Cole confirming some of his and Lucas’s guys are in position just in case this goes to shit. Call them plan B.

In less than an hour, Madeline's carefully constructed world will burn. The thought brings a smile to my lips as I check the livestream link one final time. Every guest's phone is primed to receive it at precisely the right moment—when Madeline is at her most triumphant, playing perfect hostess to all the old money families she's spent decades manipulating.

But more than revenge, more than watching Madeline's empire crumble, my mind is consumed with Emerald. My everything. My salvation. My perfect match in every way that matters. She doesn't know all my plans yet—that once Madeline is gone, we'll be free to make this official in every way. The same way she doesn't know she's carrying my child.

My hand tightens around my phone as need burns through my veins like poison. We've been apart for hours while she prepares for the party, and every second without her feels like withdrawal, like my body's shutting down without the antidote. She's an entire floor above me in her room, and even that distance is too much for my sanity to bear.

I've never craved anything the way I crave her. Never needed anyone the way I need her. She’s the other half of my twisted soul, as essential to me as oxygen, as inevitable as death.

A knock at my door breaks through the fog of my thoughts. "Mr. Astor?" Kendra's voice carries that edge of disapproval it always has when she addresses me. "Mrs. Delacroix wants to ensure you'll be downstairs in ten minutes to greet the early arrivals."

I don't bother responding. In ten minutes, Kendra won't matter. None of Madeline's minions will.

My phone buzzes again—Tristen: Just watched Madeline almost have an aneurysm when we showed up. Worth coming just for that. The others are here too.

I send back a quick acknowledgment before tucking the phone away. The Savage Six's presence tonight isn't strictly necessary, but their support sends a message. That I'm not just some lawyer who married above his station, as Madeline likes to imply. That I have the backing of the most dangerous men in Emerald Hills.

That I'm a part of the real power in this town.

These hours of forced separation from Emerald have every nerve ending raw, my body achingly aware that she's somewhere above me getting ready for tonight. Knowing what's coming—how everything changes after this party—makes the wait even more excruciating.

I check my reflection one last time, adjusting my tie. The blood-red tux is a statement. A warning to anyone paying attention. This isn't a celebration. It's an execution.

And I'm the executioner.

Music spills from the ballroom as the first guests arrive. Through my window, I watch a stream of luxury cars pull up to the entrance. Madeline's carefully curated guest list—all the "right" people, all the old money families who matter in this town.

All the people who are about to witness her destruction.

But first, I need to see her. My Emerald. My reason for breathing.

I turn toward the grand staircase and time freezes. Emerald appears at the top, golden tulle catching the light with every movement, making her look like she's floating as she descends. Her dark hair falls in perfect waves around her shoulders, the ivory silk and full skirt transforming her into an angel stepping down from heaven directly into my darkness.

"Cohen." My name falls from her lips like a prayer as she reaches the bottom step, and the sound nearly brings me to my knees. Her eyes find mine and reality fractures, shattering until there's nothing left but her. Until she's the only thing that exists in my universe.

"Little one." I reach for her, my hands finding her waist above the clouds of tulle like they belong there. Like they've always belonged there. "You're devastating."

A blush stains her cheeks as she leans into me, her body fitting against mine like we're two pieces of the same whole. "I've missed you," she whispers, and I feel the words in my soul. "Even just these few hours... it hurt."

"I know." I press my lips to her forehead, breathing her in. Sugar cookies and innocence and mine . "But after tonight, we never have to be apart again. I promise."

She shivers, her fingers curling into my jacket. "What's going to happen?"

"Justice." I tip her chin up, drowning in green eyes that hold my entire universe. "Are you ready?"

She nods without hesitation, trust shining in her gaze. "As long as I'm with you."

"Always." I steal a quick kiss, careful not to smudge her lipstick or let anyone see. The timing needs to be right for Madeline to find out about us. "Now come. We have a party to attend."

The sound of breaking glass carries from the ballroom. "Mother's probably terrorizing the staff about the crystal display she designed specifically for tonight."

I smile, dark satisfaction curling through me. "Let her have her moment. Soon, none of this will matter."

Hand in hand, we move toward the party. Toward destiny. Toward the future I've spent two years orchestrating.

Everything is in place. Everyone is exactly where they need to be.

The ballroom is a masterpiece of Madeline's twisted imagination—an ethereal fusion of frost and starlight. Crystal icicles float mid-air, suspended on invisible wires while white roses bloom from sculpted ice. Shards of mirrors catch and scatter light in mesmerizing patterns across the walls, making the massive space feel like the inside of a diamond. Even I have to admit it's breathtaking, innovative in that way that will have every socialite in the Pacific Northwest scrambling to copy it by New Year's.

As we enter, Emerald is immediately swept away by Katherine Ashworth and her circle, all of them cooing over her dress. The separation is physical torture, but I force myself to let her go. Instead, I claim the high-backed chair near the grand fireplace, positioning myself where I can observe everything—but mostly her.

The Savage Six are already making their presence felt. Cole and Lucas stand in matching black suits by the bar, a statement just by being here. Tristen has drawn a crowd of admirers, though his attention keeps drifting to his phone. Romeo's tattoos peek above his collar as he talks with Beckett, both of them looking like wolves among Madeline's pampered sheep. And Xander prowls the edges of the room, his mismatched eyes and restless energy making the socialites nervous as he fidgets with his collar, unable to stay still.

But my focus is solely on Emerald as she moves through the crowd, playing the role her mother crafted for her one last time. Every cell in my body screams to go to her, to keep her by my side where she belongs. The physical pain of our separation claws at my chest even though she's only yards away.

She feels it too. I can tell by the way she keeps glancing my direction, by how she drifts closer whenever she can, like we're magnets being pulled together. Even across the room, I can see the subtle tremor in her hands, the slight hitch in her breathing when too many people separate us.

"Quite the turnout." Madeline appears beside my chair, her voice dripping artificial warmth. She's wearing white, as cold and sharp as the woman herself. "I trust you're planning to be social tonight?"

I don't bother looking at her. My eyes are fixed on Emerald as she accepts a champagne flute from a passing waiter, and every muscle in my body goes rigid. But then she sets it on a side table without taking a sip, and the tension bleeds from my shoulders. "I'm exactly where I need to be."

She follows my gaze, her lips tightening when she sees who I'm watching. "You seem very focused on my daughter lately."

"Do I?" Now I do turn to her, letting her see just a glimpse of the darkness she invited into her home. "How observant of you."

Something flashes in her eyes—uncertainty? Fear? But before she can respond, the Montgomerys arrive. I watch with dark satisfaction as she's forced to play hostess, welcoming Daniel Jr. and his parents with that plastic smile she's perfected.

Emerald tenses when she spots Daniel, but I'm already on top of the situation. One look at Cole has him intercepting the spoiled heir before he can get within ten feet of what's mine.

"Cohen." Emerald's relief is palpable as she reaches for me, propriety forgotten. I pull her against me, not caring who sees. Let them look. Let them whisper. Soon they'll all know anyway.

"Come here, little one." I guide her to my chair, settling her on my lap. She curls into me immediately, like she's finally able to breathe. I know the feeling. "Better?"

"Yes." She presses closer, her head tucking under my chin. "I hate being away from you. It feels wrong. Like my skin doesn't fit right."

"I know." My hand slides to her lower back. "But it's almost over."

Her fingers play with my tie, and I have to bite back a groan at the innocent touch. "Promise?"

"I promise." I press a kiss to her temple, breathing her in. Let them stare. Let all these wealthy parasites in their custom Italian suits and designer ballgowns see exactly who she belongs to. The heat from the overcrowded ballroom has started to melt Madeline's icy decor, but that's fitting. Everything in this room is about to come crashing down anyway.

My stepdaughter's perched on my lap and, from our spot on the on the dais, we watch them. Several of them stare at the way she's sitting, how inappropriate it is for a girl her age to be this close to her stepfather’s dick, and I almost laugh. Whenever we make eye contact, I get a disgusted curl of the lip or a glare before they turn away. Imagine what they'd think if they knew my hand was moving underneath her fluffy tulle skirt and sneaking between her legs.

Emerald shifts, pressing her legs together to trap my fingers. "Cohen," she whispers under her breath so nobody can hear but me. "Everyone can see."

She's right. Everyone can see us, but her skirt is cover enough to hide everything I plan to do. My lips find the shell of her ear, and I nip at her. "Then you'd better stay quiet and still." Her eyes drift closed and her breathing speeds up as my fingers slide higher.

"I don't want them to see," she protests but doesn't stop me from teasing her skin. The softness of her inner thigh feels incredible as I drag my knuckle against it.

"They won't. Now, be a good girl, and spread your legs for me." She bites her lip, and I watch as she does exactly what I tell her to do.

The power she gives me is heady.

I move my fingers higher, and the lacy fabric of her panties greets me. She's so warm, and the heat radiating from her pussy makes my cock stiffen into an uncomfortable position in my tuxedo pants. I'd love nothing more than to bend her over the edge of this chair, shove the layers of sparkly golden fabric to her waist, and drive my cock into her.

Unfortunately, the guests' reactions to seeing my fingers beneath her skirt are tame compared to the outrage I'd receive if I pull her panties to the side to give her the fucking I know we both want.

And I’d never let any of them see her that way.

The fabric of her underwear gets wetter the more I touch her, and when I dip my finger below the lace to brush across her slickness, Emerald's breath catches. She lets it out slowly, and her hips shift forward.

"Did you want something?" I ask.

She glances at me and gives me a little smile, shaking her head. "Nope." Her voice wavers, betraying the fact that she's lying to me. "I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask, dragging my finger along her pussy. Her thighs tense and her breathing speeds up. "That's too bad. I was going to see if you wanted to ride my fingers while I fuck you with them. At least until you're ready to take my cock."

"Cohen," she gasps, and her head whips to the side to check and see if anyone heard. They didn't. The conversations and the string quartet are loud enough to hide our secrets. "Someone’s going to notice what we're doing."

Her words don't stop her from shifting until my hand slips beneath her underwear again. I'm touching her pussy, and her wetness is all over my fingers. My chest rumbles with how much it turns me on to know how badly she wants me.

I lean closer to her ear. "You think I'll let anyone see what's happening under your skirt, little one?" I slip my finger inside of her up to the second knuckle. "But if you don't want to play, that's fine. I'll stop touching you." I start to pull out of her, but her thighs squeeze and her hand clamps down over my arm.

"Don't," she whispers. "Don't stop."

She's practically panting now, and I'm so hard for her. I want to see her come. I want to feel her come while I'm balls deep inside of her. It doesn't matter that we're surrounded by her mother's friends and business associates. That her mother’s sitting less than ten feet away in a chair just like this one. I drag my finger out and then push it back in over and over, my thumb brushing against her clit. It's not enough to get her off but it's enough to make her squirm.

"What is it you want, little one?"

"More. Please, give me more," she begs in a whisper. "Please."

I slide a second finger inside her. She clenches down on me and sucks me in. "Fuck," I grit out. "You're squeezing my fingers. Is this what you'd do to my cock?" Her lips are parted, and she's facing out into the room but I doubt she's really seeing anything. "Is it?"

"Yes," she answers in a whisper. Her hands are gripping the arms of the throne-like chair we're sitting on, and my chest presses against her back as I lean in close to her ear. "Reach down between us and take out my cock." I start fucking her harder with shaking fingers. I’m so goddamn turned on, if I don’t get inside of her I might die. "Now, Emerald. Do it now."

Her hand trembles as she reaches behind her and fumbles at my belt before she gets the zipper down. She shifts forward to give herself a little more room and I feel my wife's frigid glare from the other side of the dais. It doesn't matter, though. She can't do anything to stop us. Not without making a massive scene. She'd never do anything to embarrass herself.

The moment Emerald has my pants open enough to free my cock, I use my hand to guide hers to the base and have her wrap her fingers around me. I lean back in the throne and push my hips up so my dick slides through her grip.

"Fuck," I breathe, as I pull my sticky fingers out of her and grab her hips to put her how I want her. She doesn't resist as I angle her body toward me and tug her panties to the side again. Her pussy is slick and hot, and in the middle of a room full of people, her mother—my wife—included, I pull her down onto my shaft until every inch is buried inside of her.

Emerald's lips fall open, her eyelids droop, and her head tilts back to rest on my shoulder. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and the fact that she's taking my cock surrounded by these people only makes her that much more so. She doesn't care. All she cares about is me and how I make her feel.

We can't fuck like I want, so my fingers dig into her hips to hold her still when she tries to move. Her cunt grips me, squeezing and clamping down again and again while I grit my teeth and try not to fucking lose it. It's like her body's trying to steal my cum straight from my balls.

When Madeline's attention is focused on one of her many admirers, I tighten my grip on Emerald's hip and get her to rock ever so slightly against me. I can't hold in my groan and Emerald whimpers at the relief of finally fucking, even if it's not much.

"Do you want to know a secret?" I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. She nods once and tilts her head so I have better access, but I don't take advantage. This is important and here and now, while we're as close to being one person as we can possibly get, I need to tell her.

"You're pregnant." I say the words and her entire body goes rigid. She stops rocking and tries to turn to look at me. "Shh. Stay still, little one. You don't want to get caught." I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her steady and keep her from moving. "It's true." My hand moves lower, sliding over her dress to the spot where my baby is growing. "You're going to give me a child. The first of many."

"What? How..."

I push my hips up. "I think you know how."

"How long have you known?"

"I'll tell you everything later. But just know," I spread my fingers over her stomach, "I want this more than I've ever wanted anything."

She takes one of her hands off the arm of the chair-slash-throne and puts it over mine on her stomach. "Me, too," she whispers.

This right here is the best gift I've ever gotten.

I need to make this girl come before I explode. If she can't rock her hips, then I'll move for her. I shift my other hand between her thighs, back up under her skirt, and I rub her clit. Her reaction is immediate, a shudder working its way through her. I lean forward until my lips are pressed against her ear. "You're going to come on my cock right here in the middle of this room while all these people watch you without knowing that's what they're watching."

She's panting now, her hips jerking forward and back in a barely-there movement that no one is going to notice unless they're looking for it. “You’re going to show them what they’ll never have. What belongs to me,” I growl into her ear. Her nails dig into the fabric on the arms of the throne, and she bites her bottom lip. She's close. So am I.

I'm going to fill Emerald with my cum in the middle of her mother's Christmas party.

And then I'm going to destroy my wife.