Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Kent’s Pov

"Name the condition right now," I snap, stepping forward so my body shields Daniella from my grandfather's cold, calculating stare.

My voice is sharp and angry. I expect him to demand money, to force us to sign away our rights, or to demand that Daniella disappear the second the baby is born. Every muscle in my body is tense, ready for a fight.

Instead, the old man lets out a dry, quiet cough. He leans forward on his heavy wooden cane, his sharp eyes fixed steadily on Daniella.

"If she is going to carry a direct blood heir to this family," my grandfather says slowly, his voice echoing in the quiet study, "and if you are truly foolish enough to throw away your engagement to Freya for her, then she cannot hide in the shadows. The condition is simple: she must step into the public eye as your acknowledged partner. No secrets. No hiding at the university. She must attend the upcoming corporate charity gala next week right by your side, facing the press and our circle, to prove she has the backbone to survive in our world."

The words hang in the air like a sudden gust of cold wind.

I stare at my grandfather, completely shocked. I expected a vicious trap, a cruel punishment, or an impossible demand. Instead, he is testing her ability to stand beside me in the bright, burning spotlight of high society.

"No," I say instantly, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. You are setting her up to be torn apart by the reporters and our social circle. I will not let you use her as a public spectacle."

Before I can argue any further, a soft hand gently presses against my arm.

I look down. Daniella is looking up at me, her dark eyes calm, steady, and completely unafraid. The panic she felt just minutes ago is gone, replaced by a quiet, fierce courage that takes my breath away.

"Kent, wait," Daniella says softly, turning her gaze back to my grandfather and father. She stands tall, her shoulders squared. "I will do it."

"Daniella, you don't have to—" I start to protest, but she cuts me off with a gentle shake of her head.

"I do," she tells me, her voice clear and strong. "I want a future with you, Kent. Not just a secret rebellion where we hide from everyone in dusty supply closets and quiet diners. If I am going to be with you, and if our child is going to bear your name, I want to earn it on my own terms. I am not afraid of them, and I am not afraid of your world."

My grandfather’s eyebrows lift in genuine surprise. A tiny flicker of respect crosses his old, weathered face, though he quickly hides it behind a cold mask.

"Brave words," my grandfather mutters, turning away slowly. "We shall see if you have the stomach for it when the cameras start flashing next week. Leave us now. Both of you."

My father and grandfather turn their backs, walking over to the window to dismiss us.

Before we can reach the heavy study doors, Kent’s mother steps out from the shadows near the fireplace. Her soft eyes are swimming with unshed tears. She reaches out, gently taking Daniella’s cold hand in hers for a brief moment before turning her gaze to me.

"Kent," his mother whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "In all the years you have lived in this house, following every rule your father and grandfather set for you... I have never, ever seen you fight this hard for anyone. Take care of her."

Her words hit me deep in my chest. For the first time in my life, looking at my mother's supportive smile, I realize the truth: choosing Daniella means completely breaking away from the toxic mold of my family's expectations. It means rejecting their cold plans and building a totally different, honest future from the ground up.

Minutes later, we walk out of the grand study and head down the long hallway toward the front entrance. The air outside the mansion feels fresher, cleaner, and full of a new kind of hope.

I stop near the massive front doors, turning to face Daniella. I gently cup her face in my hands, looking deep into her brave, beautiful eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask softly, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Stepping into that gala with me... it's going to be a battlefield."

"I'm sure," Daniella whispers, a small, confident smile touching her lips. "As long as you are holding my hand."

My heart swells with a love so massive it hurts. I lean down, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her lips.

"Listen to me," I whisper against her mouth, making a promise I intend to keep with every drop of blood in my body. "No matter what happens next week, and no matter what my family tries to pull... the wedding to Freya is not going to happen. I swear it to you."

Before Daniella can answer, the heavy front doors behind us suddenly fly wide open with a loud, violent crash.

We both jump, spinning around instantly.

Freya stands in the doorway.

Her expensive designer coat is thrown wide open, her blonde hair is slightly messy from the wind, and her face is twisted into an ugly, furious mask of pure rage. She looks like a storm about to strike.

"You think you can sneak around behind my back?" Freya shrieks, her voice echoing loudly off the stone walls of the grand foyer. She points a trembling finger straight at Daniella’s stomach, her eyes blazing with absolute venom. "You think you two can play me for a fool? I know all about it! I know about the little student, I know about the penthouse, and I damn well know that she is pregnant with your child, Kent!"