Previously: Ella finds out the truth about Lucifer as the actual Devil and they are on good terms. Chloe is acting very strangely, and Lucifer doesn't understand why.

Meanwhile, Dan finds out the truth as well. But what will he do is the next question.

Chapter 20

Lucifer's Pov

The next day, the detective and I had the morning off thankfully from work and we decided to spend the morning travelling to 'The Home Depot,' a home improvement store to see some paintings for our new apartment below the penthouse, where the baby and Beatrice will soon live. It was strange for me since I never visited stores like these in decades, however I was satisfied that the detective and I were moving forward with the next stage of our lives. The detective was surprisingly calm this morning since she had been acting very strangely lately at the prescient. Now, she was back to her normal self, which was a relief.

The temperature today was grilling through my maroon suit, but it didn't form a drop of sweat on my body. The detective was wearing stretching, maternity jeans with a loose, grey shirt with her hair tied up in a ponytail. Inside the store was half-packed with customers with huge shelves filled with home tools, paints and different types of furniture. Our noses were overflown with the smells of paint, the fresh piles of fabrics and bedspreads, the stiff clay of vases and dusty wooded walls.

We grabbed a free shopping cart and began strolling through the aisles. The detective was keen to start searching for the paints we would use for the bedrooms. Stepping into the aisle where two large shelves were filled with pots of colourful paints, the detective was ahead of me and commenced scanning through the long collection.

"I think white or light grey would be a good colour for the baby's room" the detective suggested as she picked up a pot of grey paint before carefully dropping it in the cart.

"That's perfect because I use marble for a spare kitchen which is a similar colour" I concurred.

"And, I was thinking Trixie's bedroom should be in light blue" she selected another pint of paint and dumped it in the cart.

I heard her phone ringing and watched her take it out of her bag, but when the detective read the name of the caller on her screen, she quickly rejected the call. I narrowed my eyes in puzzlement since it was very unlikely for the detective to ignore an incoming call, I asked, "Who was that?"

"It was Dan" she replied.

"What if it's an emergency?" I questioned since the detective usually answers her phone straightaway if it relates to work.

"Then, he'll call me again" she replied with a gentle smile, but it became weird when I noticed that the detective secretly switched her phone on silent, "But right now, I want to get this sorted before the baby comes."

I didn't complain since I understood that the Douche was acting like such an exasperating prick. We continued walking through the aisles; however we didn't need to shop much since I would hire expert Interior designers and construction workers to assist in recording our apartment below the penthouse.

"Oh, I need to pop to the loo, meet you at the till" she stood on her toes and kissed me on the side of my cheek before walking away.

"Alright, detective" I murmured as I watched her walk down a single, wide aisle. Noticing she tried to pull the hem of her grey shirt to cover more of her round belly which was pointless in my opinion since everyone could see her pregnancy.

I strolled the cart towards the empty cashier counter where there was a cashier, a young woman in her mid-20s. She was wearing an orange apron and welcomed me with an amicable grin, "Hello, sir, how can I help you?"

"Just these, please" I replied, putting all the stuff from the cart onto the counter.

"Redecorating your home?" she asked when she scanned the barcodes on the cans of paint.

"Not really, it's for a baby room and another older urchin" I opened a few shopping bags I brought and began packing the paints into them.

"Ah, that's cute" the cashier grinned in her cute, pure voice, "Will it be your first baby?"

"Yes, it will be" I nodded.

"You excited about being a daddy?" she innocently asked while working on the register machine.

Uncontrollably, my dirty mind lightened up and my brain was already filled with erotic quotes. I would never purposely flirt with anyone because my heart already belongs to the detective, but it never hurts to do some harmless flirty. A little small tease would be harmless as the corner of my mouth curled up into a wicked grin and I wiggled my eyebrows, "Well, many people I know have said that I've been a good daddy."

The young cashier understood my dirty joke through a foxy smile, she lightly giggled and glanced down to hide her blush. I chuckled with pride whenever I could make a mortal bloom with bashfulness from my flirty personality. In my head, 'I still got it.'

A loud cough interrupted us, and my eyes darted to the side to find the detective standing on the other side of the cart. The cold colour of annoyance was spread across the detective's face and her harsh gaze was like a predator eyeing at its prey. Her death stare paralysed my body and tensed my jaw as I was too neurotic to respond.

"All ready?" the detective impatiently asked with a fake grin.

"Almost, darling" I replied in my mousy voice.

"Here's the total" the cashier holds up a machine card.

"Thank you, my darling" I replied.

Tapping my American Express card on the machine before placing the cans of paint in a single bag and passing it down inside the cart. I could still feel the detectives' eyes aiming straight at me like sharp knives. Giving me an uncertain feeling that coiled around my spine and was ready to rattle my bones.

The detective and I left the store with my hand holding onto the handle while pushing the cart towards my car. She was too quiet to start a casual conversation and was avoiding eye contact. And, if I did catch a glance, I could see the bitterness building from the corner of her eye.

"Everything the matter, darling?" I broke the deadly silence as though stepping into a dangerous territory.

"Yep, all fine" her answer was short and sharp.

"It's just you seem a bit… intense" I pointed out though I instantly came to regrated it.

"No. I'm good, Lucifer, and so are you and so is that young, friendly cashier" she quietly growled in a sullen tone.

"Pardon?" I asked while we were strolling over a zebra crossing.

"I'm just saying she looks friendly and nice and cute" she grew a sarky smile while camouflaging her face with a careless look.

Approaching the Corvette car, I used my car key to open the door to the boot then I began filling the boot with the packed shopping bags. I didn't wish for the detective to assist because I would be anxious if she got hurt by lifting some heavy bags. She was standing by waiting for me while I was still startled by her irritated tone earlier.

"Detective, are you jealous?" I questioned as I recalled seeing the detective in this envious behaviour when my ex-girlfriend, Eve came around. The short amount of death stares, the narrow eyebrows, the bitter twisting of her lips and the low tone of her voice. Now, it's starting again.

"Jealous? Why?" the detective released a fake chuckle along with a phoney smile, but quickly the scornful mood of her voice switched to a sullen ending, "She's just a young, sweet cashier, and I'm just carrying your child."

Before I could have the chance to respond, she swung the car door open and hopped herself inside so I walked around my car and jumped on the driver's seat. Wrapping my seatbelt over my body while I was still unclear on why the detective was suddenly upset, but I was determined to understand and fix it to help her.

If it was because of that little flirt with the female cashier, then the detective must know that it was nothing but it was a childish tease. Turned my head to the side and tried to reassure her, "Are you angry at me, detective? I can assume it was nothing-"

"You know what, I'm actually quite peckish, let's go and get something to eat" she interrupts again and, suddenly, her displeasing tone immediately melted away and was replaced with a much softer and happier tone. I didn't debate, or complain, or sound anything at all. Because I was speechless.

First, the detective's behaviour was normal at the beginning of our day, then she sounded jealous a minute ago, and now the detective is suddenly gleeful and unruffled. Every minute was like she was switching from one certain personality to another. I was very, very confused or worse because I couldn't tell who was going mad, the detective or me.

After dropping off the paintings at my penthouse and the detective wanted to get back to work to sort out more paperwork. Giving me enough free time to unravel the bewilderment that had been tangling my thoughts. Desperate for some guidance, I raced towards Doctor Linda's office knowing that she was the only mortal available who would help me in this time of scepticism. I knocked impatiently on the office door without a moment to think that the doctor might be preoccupied with another patient or her business. At that moment, my issues were more important.

"Doctor, I have a problem" I announced when I swung the door open and stepped into her office.

"Lucifer?" the doctor was sitting at her desk, wearing a purple, peplum dress with her wavily, blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders. A small, neat pile of printed paper was settled on the left side of her deck and Linda was using a pen to write notes on these papers. My sudden entrance spread a shock over her face causing her hands to covertly cover the surface of her papers. She asked, "Everything alright?"

"No, I'm afraid not. There's something wrong with the detective" I answered, and my words poured more concern into Linda's mind.

"Oh my God, what happened?" I could sense the panic in her kind voice.

"She hasn't been herself lately" I added.

However, my answer didn't satisfy Linda's worriedness, she tilted her head and focused her concerned eyes on my face, "Okay, could you possibly expand on that."

"Well, yesterday was the start of her… peculiar behaviour" I sat myself down on the couch as the perplexity was weighing my body heavily with a little help of gravity. Shifting my jaw side to side, warning up my mouth as there was so much for me to discuss, "When I mentioned her famous, sexiest moment in her film, she actually complimented me for bringing it up. Next, she became quite angry when I assisted her."

Linda sat down in her usual chair with all ears, while I took out my flask and took a sip before continuing, "Oh, and today, she was acting quite envious when I was talking to a young and friendly cashier and then she suddenly acted unperturbed and happy and surprisingly famished."

"I don't understand, doctor. Does pregnancy make women crazy… mentally?" I asked as the doctor could clearly see hopeless eyes seeking any solutions.

Paused, the doctor was progressing everything I had told and trying to come to a conclusion, "Remind me how far away is Chloe?"

"I don't know, possibly about 10… 15 miles, so to speak" I answered bemused as to why is it relevant.

"No, I mean her pregnancy" Linda rephrased her question.

"Oh, she's over 5 months" I answered which resulted in hearing a light chuckle from Linda's lips.

"Lucifer, she's not going crazy. She's got mood swings" she explained yet I was still lost in the woods.

"Come again, doctor?"

"Women often get pregnancy hormones that would make them shift different moods. It's not uncommon for pregnant women to get mood swings" Linda clarified the unfamiliar phrase to me about what most pregnant women and the detective go through, "It didn't really last long for me when I was pregnant with Charlie. But some women have them for a while."

"So, the baby isn't causing her to feel this way?" I asked. Apprehensively, a part of me was troubled at the thought that my unborn child, who may develop my celestial gene, may cause some harm to the detective both mentally and physically.

The doctor shook her head, "No, it's just the hormones."

I nodded understandingly, yet I couldn't shake off the troubled feeling of being helpless when the detective was trapped in a distressing position, "So, what should I do?"

"Be patient, Lucifer" Linda's answer was short but impactful, "That's the only thing you have to be. It can be frustrating for both you and Chloe. But, remember, what Chloe is going through is way more stressful."

"Very well" I nodded.

Unconvinced, Linda stood up before walking over and sat beside me on the couch. Already surprised by her reaction and from the closeness of Linda's position, I could sense the seriousness vibrating from her sharp stare. Her voice became firmer as she pleaded, "Lucifer, please, please, be patient and listen very carefully to what she needs."

"Of course, doctor, when have I ever misunderstood your advice" I chuckled with a sly smirk.

"Many, many times" she mumbled.

"Right, thank you, doctor" I complimented before standing up ready to take off, without realising that Linda was still looking doubtful.

"Oh, before you go, be aware of the honeymoon phase" the doctor yelled before I could take another step.

"The what, doctor?" I questioned her warning as I had never heard of 'the honeymoon phase' before.

"The…" Linda paused and didn't repeat herself.

Instead, the doctor sat up from her chair and walked back to her desk, leaving me hanging by the door. Linda's hand reached down and pulled out a desk drawer to take out a certain book before she returned, "Tell you what. Read this and it will help you during the second trimester. In case Chloe gets a bit more… seductive in unexpected ways."

The doctor handed me the book and I read the title 'The Expectant Dad's Survival Guide: Everything You Need to Know.' I raised a curious eyebrow, "What do I need of this?"

"Trust me, Lucifer, you'll need it" Linda persuaded as she forcefully deposited the book in my hands.

Later...

My empty penthouse was filled with quietness and brightness, I was sitting on my brown couch with my laptop resting on my thighs. My fingers were speedily tapping across the black keyboard and my eyes were scanning across the flat screen. I was researching and contacting interior designers who would assist me in redesigning the apartment below the penthouse. After finding the right paintings, the next job was to hire the right workers who could create our ideal apartment for the urchin and our future child. Knowing it would that we were close to creating rooms for the children, made me feel proud that I was moving forward in becoming a responsible father.

Bing!

My ears caught the echo of the elevator bell, the doors opening and the detective exiting. The small heels of her shoes tapping loudly on the crystal marble floor. Before I could greet or even glance at her, the detective saw me first and instantly said, "Oh, hi, listen we need to go back to the store."

There was no time for me to adjust to her hasty instruction, I blinked and tilted my head, "Why?"

"The paints don't smell good" she was adamant and placed her work bag on the bar island table. There was no sign of continuation nor clarification as though what the detective says, goes without feedback. Leaving me speechless and silent.

"Smell good?" I questioned.

"Yeah, like someone just vomited and it makes me sick so we need to get some new ones" she explains while taking out some of her paperwork from her bag, yet I held a stare of disbelief.

"Um… detective, when I dropped off the paintings, I didn't notice any sickly smell" I stood up from my sitting position and headed towards her.

Suddenly, her movements ceased and she raised her head up and granted me a cruel death stare. The detective's voice rapidly became firm and sour, "You're saying I'm being delusional?"

Faster than lightning, the air became thinker and hotter as her change of tone washed away my smile and I realised that I pressed the wrong button. Staining my face with panic as I courteously tried to take back what I said, "No, no, no, of course not. It's just meant-"

"What? That I'm going insane. That I'm making things up" her voice was filling up with incensed and irritation. I didn't wish to admit it, but the detective almost looked like a mad woman who escaped from an asylum. It was as if the personalities of my threatening mother and the harsh Mazikeen suddenly merged into one and were planted inside the detective's body.

"Not in the slightest" I shook my head like a frightened child confronting a distressed parent.

"Good" pleased, she focused back on taking out her paperwork… and I missed a bullet.

Remembering back to Doctor Linda's advice earlier that I need to be patient and try to listen to everything the detective was saying. Closed my eyes and took in some short and deep breathes, releasing all the indignation that was building up inside of me. I changed the subject in hopes of lighting up the intense atmosphere, "So, do you need a hand with packing at your place?"

"Maybe" thankfully, the detective's voice became more tranquil, "We also need to decide on what to do with my furniture."

I sensed a trace of sorrow in her voice which perfectly made sense because the apartment had been her home for quite some time and the detective would, of course, miss it dearly. Although, it was still a good idea to discuss what to do about the furniture in her apartment. I suggested, "Well, since you have a lot on your plate, I could find some good local stores to donate them if you like."

Her body stopped moving again and returned a contentious look, "Donate? Why would I need to donate my stuff?"

"Because, I already have furniture in the penthouse" I explained in an obvious tone. Not to mention the fact that I have plenty of money to buy other necessary items.

A fake laugh escaped through her sarcastic lips, "Oh, I see, so everything I own is useless now, right?"

"Well, I wouldn't call them useless, it will just be purposeless for having additional furniture that we no longer need" I replied, unaware that my words only increased the detective's annoyance.

"So, basically, I don't get to decide on what I think we need for our penthouse" grumbling, her bitter tone returned.

Sensing she was building up another quarrel and I tried to avoid it, "Detective-"

"No, I get it. What Lucifer says, goes" her mocking cuts in and walks away from me with her paperwork.

I'm used to the detectives' eye-rolling and her honest criticism, but her snappish behaviour was degrading my will of patience and resistance. My fingers scrolled inwards and made a pair of tight fists while closing my eyes shut. I wished that I stayed where I was and my lips were glued together, but my ego got the better of me.

Spinning my body around to face her again, I exhaled in a deep breathe to settle my vexation before I started, "Detective, I know you've been feeling uneasy."

"No, shit Sherlock" she snarled. Her insolent and childish attitude was eating up my patience as I firmly gritted my teeth behind my lips.

"But, I don't know what you want me to do" I loudly growled involuntarily releasing the vibe of my frustrations. She was rather stunned by my raised voice like she was expecting me to quiet and submissive to her silly outbursts.

"First, the right paint you wanted suddenly smells sickly to you, then it was that the envious discussion about the friendly cashier, and now you overreacting to situations that can be easily talked over" I listed down all the absurd arguments and fusses she raised earlier. She was staring up at me in shock as though she was noticing this for the first time, I continued, "I want to help you, detective, but I don't know how because I don't know what you want. I don't know what to say because you might bike my bloody head off for it."

When it seemed that my sharp words were finally sinking in, the detective was quiet as a mouse and her mouth was all sewed up. Crossing her arms across her chest like a stubborn child standing on their grounds. Her eyes were avoiding mine as though she was shielding a shameful secret, she mumbled, "I don't know."

"Well, whatever it is, detective, tell me please" I begged desperately, but I received no answer as pride glued her lips together. This was completely the opposite of her personality as the detective would usually want to talk about her problems, but here she was utterly silent. I wish I could say that there were some hints of truth leaking on the corner of her mouse, but the detective

"Very well, if it silences then it's all yours" she wouldn't be hearing any complaints from me. Spinning my body around and strolled towards the bar as my mouth was hopelessly in need of being filled with whiskey. That scent of sweet alcohol will be the perfect relaxation for me. My hands picked up a splendid bottle of whiskey and began pouring some into an empty glass. Assuming that the detective wasn't going to talk till later, or so I thought.

"I feel ugly."

Her quiet whisper was like plunging a dagger deep into the back of my spine, my body froze and my brain became numb. Slowly turning my head around with every movement felt like I was twisting tight muscles through aching pain. My eyes were filled with disbelief as I darted my stare back to the detective who was wrapped in a cocoon of remorse and embarrassment.

Speechless, my mouth was slightly open filled with emptiness until I managed to hook out the evident question that had been repeating itself in my baffled head, "What on earth are you talking about?"

A lump of regret was stuck in her throat, the detective closed her eyes wishing that she said nothing at all. She could feel my eyes focusing on her face, trying to find a glimpse of answers either on her lips, eyes, checks, or anything that would cure my worriedness. Waving her hands over the curve of her hair and deeply sighed, before she finally spoke.

"I can't focus on work because I often feel tired and nauseous. My feet are aching from walking to the bathroom because I need the toilet every 5 minutes to either take a piss or puke or do nothing at all. And, when I do that everyone will think 'hey look, pregnant Decker is vomiting again'" the detective didn't hide the frustrations in her voice as the loud rage vibrated my bones and caught my tongue.

She darted her stare down to her clothing, "And, I can't fit into my pants and my shirts anymore, because I'm getting fat."

Of course, I understand how being pregnant causes the detective's stomach to be round and it would make sense that she could no longer fit in her casual clothing. I shrugged my shoulders as it was no problem, "So, we can buy better clothes, ones that would feel more comfortable-"

"It's not about the clothes, Lucifer!" she harshly shouted. Her fingers were tightly gripping the air like she was strangling someone's neck.

"Then, what is it?" I was confused.

"I don't feel… great anymore" the detective struggled to speak out the sickly truth as though she wanted to allow it back down. She closed her tired eyes and greatly exhaled, "I don't feel like me, and I hate the way I look in the mirror."

Never have I seen how shattered the detectives' self-esteem was until now, it was as if I was witnessing a whole new side of my girlfriend. Now perceiving the principal message Doctor Linda warned me a while ago today about really listening to my partner, I regret not sensing the detective's stress and despair earlier. I took a step forward and revealed a warm smile, "Detective, I think you're beautiful."

"No, you don't Lucifer" the detective closed her weary eyes and instantly denied my response, acting like I was mocking her pain. Downcasted, she sat herself down in the middle of the couch and grumbled, "You're just saying it to make it easier."

Insulted by her lack of faith in my honesty, I shook my head, "I'm not, detective, you know that I-"

"I know, you don't lie, blah blah blah" her sarcasm interrupts once more. Usually, I would be defensive when someone derides my principles, but I knew it wasn't the right moment.

"But, I know you will probably think…" her words slowly died out and her shame vigorously sealed her lips again.

"I will think what?" I didn't want to sound demanding, but I was aching to understand the core problem that the detective was hiding from me.

"That I'm not attractive now. And be honest, I wouldn't be the most eye-catching, sexiest woman when you walk into a room" she announced.

Guilt overflooded my face and my eyes were filled with realisation when I recalled the detective's harsh look when I was talking to the young, friendly cashier at the store. Beneath her jealousy, there were layers of shame and loathe she was enduring.

"I know that I'm moody and I'm angry, but that's how I feel. I'm sorry if you have to deal with it, but I can't help it" she excused before her head heavily dropped to the palm of her hands, covering the discomfort painted on her face.

It aches my soul to see my detective in this heart-wrenching and impotent position and there was nothing much I could do. My feet sauntered across the marble floor and I sat down next to the detective while providing a small space between us. A wave of tiredness was vibrating from her body while I fitted my fingers in between each other and tried to think of what I should say next. There weren't enough words in the dictionary for me to use to make the detective feel better. Instead, I did what I always do, be truthful.

After exhaling in a deep breathe, I broke the silence and whispered, "You say that you do not feel attractive, detective. But, have you met me?"

The detective raised her head from her palms and revealed her implausible face, her eyes were filled with annoyance and muttered, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes" I nodded in an obvious tone, and I could sense the urge from her hand as though she was ready to slap me out of madness. But, I was getting to my point.

"Because you know that this" I lifted my finger and circled my charming face with a small smile, "Isn't just me. And there are sometimes, where I also feel less beautiful and less myself."

At first, the detective was convoluted by the moral message until she remembered that I possessed more than one face. The man she was seeing right now, where the detective and others could see the handsome and graceful side of me, was just one side of the coin. On the other side, beneath my charm was my Devil face that represents the raw and monstrous part of my soul.

The detective realised the similarity between how she was feeling and the burden of my Devil face. My hand softly shifts across and covers over hers as the detective absorbs the warmth through my skin. I continued, "But, then I remembered how you made me feel. Detective, I feel invincible when I'm around you. Despite our little fights and how we can irritate each other, you can see through me and make me a better person."

Her face softened when her worn-out eyes reconnected with mine. Irritated, the detective leaned her forehead against her right hand and groaned, "Now, I feel like an idiot."

"You're not, detective" disagreed, I shook my head. After pushing myself closer, my arms wrapped around her back and my warm touch persuaded the detective to rest her head on my bold shoulder. I gently laid the side of my head on top of hers, my pressed ear could hear her anguished thoughts calming down and her rapid breathing gradually returned to a steady peace. I continued, "You're a strong, smart and gorgeous woman who is going through some… aggressive hormones?"

A sweet, light laughter escaped through her red lips which lit up my heart to see a bit of joy in my beloved. I blissfully grinned, "Detective, I know you can handle anything by yourself, and that's one of the things I love about you. But, I hope you know that I'm here for you. I'll always be there for you when you're angry, happy, annoyed, or upset. If you desire to laugh or cry or shout, then do it. You don't have to conceal your feelings, sweetie, how you feel is important to me."

The detective was quiet for a second until her chest was suddenly bouncing and she started hiccupping out small sobs. She closed her tired eyes and released a few drops of sweet tears that slid down her cheeks.

Shame was brought upon my face when I heard her soft weeping, I moved my head to see her face, "Oh, apologies, detective. I didn't mean-"

"No, it's just the stupid hormones" the detective shook her head and exclaimed in her weak and tearful voice. Used her fingers to gently wipe off the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"Oh, of course" I released a small chuckle and grew and endearing grin, "But, regardless, I am sorry for not listening earlier."

"It's okay" she whispered like a prayer as the detective's head returned to her recent position and laid on my shoulder, "Thank you, Lucifer, for listening now"

"You're welcome" I smiled in relief.

"You're so sweet" she purred before I quickly noticed that her lips were reaching closer to my neck.

"Detective?" my baffled stare fell to my girlfriend.

"So nice, and generous" she whispered while slowly pressing soft kisses against my neck.

Puzzled, I tried to avoid the situation, "Detective, I don't think-"

My speaking was cut off by the detective's hot lips thrusting onto mine, consuming my mouth and her tongue didn't wait to plunge through my lips. Impatiently licking the taste inside my mouth while pushing me backwards till my back was rubbing against the brown couch. I lean my head back in shock but the detective still had her tasty lips glued onto me. I was lost in the mist and wasn't sure whether this was right or not. A part of me wanted to stop her but then I theorised that it's better to let the hormones do their duties and hopefully, they will pass over.

The detective moved her wet kisses over the edge of my mouth and started smooching over my neck again. Feeling her blazing touch upon my skin sends a thrilling chill down my spine, already making me feeling turn on. I pulled my legs together, trying to ignore the temptation and the detective's seductive… gosh, I remembered Doctor Linda's advice.

"Damn where's that book?" I hissed to myself, my eyes wandering around the room trying to remember where I put that bloody book Linda provided me.

"Lucifer" she hums my name before pulling her face away from my neck. Blocking my view with her entire, beautiful face with her optimistic eyes fixating on mine.

My voice became timid, and my eyes looked up at the detective, "Yes?"

"Just shut up."

That was her last demand before she leapt over me and I fell flat on the couch with the detective lying on top. Leaving me completely at her mercy.

Later that same evening...

I stepped out of the elevator and walked into Lux desperate for a drink and out of air. My black hair was all over the place, the top buttons of my white shirt were ripped open, and parts of my neck were covered with red lipstick marks and purple hickeys. The black belt from my trousers was missing.

Walking along the pathway with my left hand smoothing over the black barrier till I reached the top of my staircase. Halfway down the curvy staircase, I stared across the room where, surprisingly, I spotted my big brother alone sitting by the bar with a glass of whiskey. I was quite shocked to see Amenadiel sitting there in Lux this late in the night while I continued strolling down and approaching him.

"Hello brother" Amenadiel turned around to welcome me, until his face was consumed with confusion when he saw my messy appearance, "Whoa, what happened to you?"

"Let's just say I experienced the first class of the honeymoon phase" I huffed while pulling out a stool chair next to Amenadiel for me to sit.

"Join the club, brother" he concurred as I assumed Amenadiel must have undergone the same experience with Linda when she was pregnant. Amenadiel leaned over the bar table and took out another whiskey glass for me.

"Thank you" I replied as I grabbed my whiskey glass, "Why are you here?"

"Linda said I could use a break from Charlie" he answered while I was pouring some juicy whiskey into my glass, "He has been quite a handful lately. You?"

"The detective is sleeping now, so I figured it would be better to let her cool off before… her hormones recharge again" I answered, praying that she would have a long nap.

"I must admit, you're taking this fatherhood business very well, Lucy" Amenadiel complimented with a hint of amazement imprinted in his eyes.

"Yes, well, it's not the first time you were mistaken, brother" I sarcastically quipped and Amenadiel rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his glass, "I can't say it's genetics either but, so far so good."

"Hey, if you need a hand, you can always come to me, you know that" he offered. My pride would usually answer for me, however I returned a grateful grin from Amenadiels' generosity.

"You know, I never thanked you for looking after Lux and for not getting it to burn down while I was away or turning it into a deranged cult for improv lunatics" I mentioned and we both ended with laughing.

"No problem" he chortled, "I haven't heard any word from Michael so I think he's finally gone."

Oh dad, I wished he was right, but I brought up the bad news, "Sadly, not. Our sadistic brother is still around and nearly caused more damage."

"Why? What happened?" Amenadiel grew a concerned look.

"He somehow manipulated Miss Lopez into seeing my Devil face and almost persuaded her to shoot me in my own home" I revealed before taking another sip from my whiskey glass.

The bombshell hit my brother harder than I expected as Amenadiel choked after taking a short sip of his drink, "Wait what! Ella knows?"

"Yes, but don't worry, she's progressing now in a good way" I explained to reassure Amenadiel, "Just wished it didn't start that way."

"Damn, screw Michael" Amenadiel growled in a bitter voice.

"Finally, something we agree on" I raised my whiskey glass again and we cheered by gently tapping our glasses together. We took a large sip at the same time and enjoyed the quietness together, just the two of us. Are so, we thought.

"I concur."

A female stranger's voice echoed behind us. Usually, in these circumstances, I would expect Michael to discreetly barge in and interpose in our conversation. However, it was a woman's voice and instantly we recognised that steely voice anyway. Amenadiel and I shared the same surprised stare before turning around to see our unwanted guest.

"Hello brothers" Remiel broke the awkward silence.

Flabbergasted, my eyes widened when I saw my little sister, Remiel standing in a firm position, dressed in a warrior's uniform while holding a long and sharp spear in her hand. First, we were dealing with the peaky problems from Michael, and now Remiel will probably… no, will definitely stir up more trouble.

After reattaching our stare, Amenadiel and I both growled at the same time, "Oh hell, no!"

More angel trouble? That's not good.

I'm not an expert on pregnancy and pregnancy hormones so I tried to do a lot of research to understand the mental states. Apologies if I got some of the facts wrong. But, the key message here for Lucifer and the other partners across the world is that being patient and listening carefully is important when their love ones are going through pregnancy.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Love to hear your thoughts in the comments!