Chapter 6

The air in Damian’s office felt heavier than the storm I had left behind in the city streets. Every polished surface, every glint of steel and glass, seemed to radiate power and danger. My chest tightened as I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the tiny life inside me, a fragile heartbeat that had survived betrayal, prison, and now—this.

Adrian lunged across the room like a storm finally breaking loose. The polished floors did nothing to soften the sound of his boots; each step rang like a war drum in my ears. My stomach twisted with fear—any sudden movement could hurt the child I had worked so hard to protect.

“Let me go!” Adrian’s roar shattered the tense silence, a sound raw with anger, heartbreak, and obsession. Gold-flecked eyes burned into Damian’s, like molten fire threatening to consume everything in its path. I’d loved him once, believed in his promises, given him my entire heart—and now, watching him like this, I barely recognized the man who had sworn to protect me.

Two guards moved with practiced precision, stepping in faster than I could react. Adrian collided with them, the impact resonating through the room like glass shattering. He twisted, fought, snarled like a cornered wolf, and my pulse spiked. I pressed my palm harder against my belly, trying to ground myself, trying to shield the child from the chaos erupting around us.

“Stop, Adrian!” Eloise’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and frightened. But I could see the truth now: her concern was not for me. It was for him, for her control, for the illusion of a life she had always wanted to command. Her eyes, wide with fear, betrayed the calculation behind her panic.

Damian didn’t move. Not a single muscle twitched. He stood behind his massive desk, a statue of calm authority, watching Adrian flail like a tempest contained within walls too fragile to hold him. His presence alone was a tether, grounding me in a world spinning with anger and betrayal.

“Pathetic,” Damian murmured, almost under his breath. His words cut sharper than any blade. Adrian froze for a heartbeat, turning his head toward him, eyes flickering with disbelief and rage.

“You think you can steal her from me? From us?” Adrian spat, his voice shaking with fury. “She was mine before she ever looked at you.”

The words slammed into my chest. My hand went to my stomach instinctively, clinging to the life I had sworn to protect.

Damian finally moved, his steps deliberate, precise, and terrifyingly calm. Each stride across the glossy black floor was measured, predatory, the kind of movement that spoke of dominance without effort. He stopped directly in front of Adrian, towering over him, and leaned down slightly. His dark eyes bored into Adrian, a predator locking onto its prey.

“You mistake me,” Damian said, voice low, calm, and deadly. “Nothing of yours remains yours. Not your company. Not your name. Not her.” His gaze shifted briefly toward me, almost claiming, almost intimate. “…Especially not her child.”

Adrian’s chest heaved, veins standing out like cords of steel along his neck. “It’s not yours!” he spat. “That child isn’t yours!”

My body stiffened, nails digging into my palms. The tension in the room was so thick I could barely breathe. Damian’s face did not change. Not a flicker, not a shadow. Only that unshakable calm, almost… terrifying in its intensity.

“It is now,” he said softly, like a verdict delivered with the inevitability of death itself.

The room went silent. Even the guards seemed to hold their breath.

Adrian’s face contorted in disbelief, fury morphing into a fragile kind of panic. “You’ll regret this, Blackwood. I’ll tear everything you own apart. You—”

“If you want her back,” Damian interrupted, leaning closer so that only Adrian could hear, “…you’ll have to destroy me first.”

The words landed like an ice pick in my chest. Every instinct screamed—fight, run, scream—but I was frozen, clutching my belly as if the tiny heartbeat could anchor me amidst the chaos. Damian wasn’t bluffing. This was not a threat. This was a promise, a challenge. A wall no one could scale without crumbling.

Adrian roared again, struggling against the guards, but it was useless. They held him firmly, their grips like iron. Eloise clawed at his arm, her screams a mixture of fear, rage, and frustration. I watched, helpless, as they were dragged from the office, leaving only silence behind, punctuated by the slam of the doors.

The echo of that slam lingered like a gunshot in my ears. My knees threatened to buckle. My chest felt tight, heavy with adrenaline, fear, and something else—something darker, like the edge of inevitability. Damian stepped closer, his presence filling the room, filling my mind, suffocating me with its intensity.

“You see now,” he said, voice low, intimate, deliberate, “…why I offered the marriage.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I—” My voice faltered, words dying before they could escape. How could I argue when everything I had relied upon—my freedom, my past, the man I once loved—had been stripped away in one ruthless stroke?

Damian didn’t give me time to respond. He stepped even closer, the shadows from the city lights outside wrapping him in an aura of untouchable power. “You think I saved you,” he continued, measured and deliberate, “but that isn’t what this is. This isn’t about you. Or me. Or even love. This is survival.”

I shivered, and it wasn’t from cold. The weight of his words pressed on me harder than any prison wall, heavier than the chains I had worn, heavier than Adrian’s betrayal.

“My name shields you,” he said, dark and commanding. “My reputation, my influence, my power—they are walls around you and your child. Without me…” His gaze snapped to mine, impossibly intense, “…you are prey.”

The word hit me like a punch to the gut. Prey. That was exactly how I had felt, alone and exposed, in prison. But now it wasn’t just fear. It was recognition of the truth. Damian wasn’t offering protection—he was claiming me, and the life I carried, as his own.

“I—” I began, voice trembling. “I don’t belong to you.”

“You will,” he interrupted, dark eyes flicking to the curve of my belly before snapping back to mine. “Because your child belongs to me.”

The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming. My pulse raced, my knees weakened. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear—but the child inside me anchored me. The small life I carried depended on me, and I couldn’t falter.

Damian’s phone buzzed sharply on the desk. He glanced at it, expression unreadable, then back at me. A shadow passed over his features, subtle but undeniable.

“They already know,” he murmured softly, the weight behind his words pressing down like a stormcloud. “The world knows you’re carrying my heir.”

I froze, stomach lurching. Exposure. Vulnerability. Claimed. And nothing would ever be the same again.

I tried to speak, but no sound came out. My mind was a cyclone of fear, anger, and disbelief. I had survived prison, betrayal, and abandonment—but this… this was a new battlefield, one I wasn’t sure I was ready to fight.

Damian stepped closer, almost imperceptibly, yet each movement carried gravity. “You’re not alone,” he said softly, yet every syllable was laced with power and command. “I’ve got you. And no one—no one—will touch you or your child without facing me first.”

My lips parted, but my voice was lost in the storm of emotions pounding through me. I realized in that moment that survival was no longer enough. Now, I was caught between two men, each claiming me in very different ways, each a force of danger and desire.

The air seemed charged, alive with tension. Outside, the city pulsed with life, unaware of the war unfolding in Damian’s office. Inside, every breath, every heartbeat, every glance carried weight, threat, and promise.

And then Damian leaned down slightly, so that only I could hear, his lips close to my ear, whispering words that made my blood freeze:

“If he wants you, he’ll have to destroy me first.”

The finality of those words sank into my chest like ice. Nothing would ever be simple again. The world had shifted, and I was standing at the center of it, with no choice but to navigate a storm far larger than myself.