Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Daniella’s Pov

My blood runs completely cold, and my fingers turn as icy as stone as I stare at the glowing words on Kent's phone screen.

Bring the student with you.

They know. The terrifying reality hits me like a freight train. Somehow, through all our careful hiding, through the closed doors of the staff room and the quiet corners of the campus, Kent’s powerful family has found out about us. Panic claws at my throat, making it hard to breathe. I grab onto the lapel of Kent’s jacket, my knuckles turning white.

"They know," I whisper, my voice shaking so hard I can barely get the words out. "Kent, they know about us. And if they know about us, they probably know about the baby. They are going to destroy me."

Kent’s jaw locks tight. The warm, loving man who held me just a second ago vanishes, replaced by a cold, protective wall of pure steel. He wraps his arms firmly around my shaking shoulders, pulling me tight against his chest.

"Listen to me, Daniella," Kent says, his voice low, steady, and fierce. He looks right into my eyes, pouring every ounce of his strength into me. "They will not touch you. They will not hurt you, and they will never take our child away. I am right here. I will not let you face them alone."

Thirty minutes later, Kent’s expensive black car pulls up in front of the giant iron gates of the family mansion. The massive stone house looks more like a dark castle today, standing tall against the gray afternoon sky like a trap waiting to snap shut.

My stomach rolls with violent nausea as we walk up the wide stone steps. The heavy oak doors open before we even knock, and we are led straight down the long, quiet hallways toward the grand study. Every step feels like walking toward my own execution.

When the heavy wooden doors of the study open, all eyes turn toward us.

Inside the room stand Kent’s father and his terrifying grandfather, both looking at us like we are bugs under a microscope. But sitting in a velvet armchair near the warm fireplace is Kent’s mother. I expect her to look down on me with cold anger, just like the rest of them. Instead, she looks at me with a soft, surprising look of deep sadness and understanding.

"Kent. Daniella," Kent’s mother says quietly, her voice gentle as she stands up and walks a few steps toward us. "Thank you for coming."

I blink, completely stunned. Before I can process her kindness, Kent’s father steps forward, his face dark with fury.

"Cut the pleasantries, Mother," Kent’s father snaps, his eyes darting to me with pure disgust. He points a finger right at my chest. "This little game is over. We brought you here today to settle this once and for all. Do you honestly think you can latch onto our family name, trap our son with a scandal, and walk away with a fortune?"

"Father, shut your mouth," Kent warns, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy growl. He steps in front of me again, his tall shoulders blocking his father's harsh glare. "You will not speak to her that way."

"Quiet, Kent!" his grandfather booms, slamming his heavy wooden cane hard against the polished floor. The loud echo makes me jump. The old man steps forward, his iron-gray eyes fixed on me with a look that could freeze water. "Let the girl speak. Let us hear what excuse she has for ruining my grandson's future and breaking a multi-million-dollar corporate contract for her own selfish gain."

Every instinct in my body tells me to bow my head, to stay quiet, and to hide behind Kent. But standing here, feeling the tiny life growing inside my stomach, something inside me shifts. I am not a charity case. I am not a gold-digger.

I gently place my hand on Kent’s arm, signaling him to step aside. I take a full step forward, standing tall on my own two feet, and meet the old man's cold stare head-on.

"I never asked for his money," I say, my voice ringing out clear, steady, and loud in the massive, quiet room. I look right into the grandfather's eyes, refusing to blink. "I never asked for his family name, and I certainly never planned for any of this to happen. You think I wanted to be caught in the middle of your rich world? You think I enjoy being threatened by powerful men who think they can buy everything? You are completely wrong."

Kent’s father gasps in shock at my tone, while his grandfather’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Nobody talks back to the head of the family.

"Is that so?" the grandfather asks, his voice low and dangerous. "Then explain why you are still here. Explain why my grandson is willing to throw away his inheritance for a nobody."

Before I can answer, Kent steps right beside me, taking my hand and interlacing his fingers tightly with mine. He turns his head, looking straight at his father and grandfather with absolute defiance.

"Because she didn't trap me," Kent declares, his voice echoing off the high stone walls. "I fell in love with her. And if you want the full truth about why everything is changing, you should know that the rumors are only half of it. Daniella isn't just a student. She is carrying my child."

The room falls instantly, violently silent.

You could hear a pin drop on the thick carpet. Kent’s mother brings both hands up to cover her mouth, a soft gasp escaping her lips. His father steps back a full pace, his face turning pale as white paper. The grandfather freezes completely, his cold eyes darting from Kent’s determined face down to my stomach, processing the massive weight of the revelation.

For ten long seconds, nobody breathes. The secret is out. Everything we tried to protect is right out in the open, laid bare before the most powerful people in the city.

Finally, the grandfather slowly exhales a long, heavy breath. The angry fire in his eyes changes into something cold, calculated, and terrifyingly calm. He leans down on his cane, looking at me with a twisted little smile that makes my blood run freezing cold.

"A child," the old man whispers, tasting the word like a chess player making a winning move. He looks back up at Kent, then straight at me. "Very well. If you are determined to keep this girl, and if there is indeed a blood heir of our family inside her... then we will make an arrangement."

My heart stops. I hold my breath, waiting for the trap to close.

Kent squeezes my hand tightly, his jaw locked. "What kind of arrangement?"

The grandfather’s cold eyes lock onto mine with absolute finality.

"If you want to remain with Kent, and if you want your child to have our family name," the old man says smoothly, "you will have to accept one single condition that could change everything."