Chapter 7

It had been two days since the confrontation in Damian’s office. Two days of whispers, stares, and the constant buzz of the city reminding me that nothing about my life was ordinary anymore. I had tried to bury myself in mundane tasks—buying tiny clothes, blankets, toys—anything to feel a connection to the child growing inside me. But no amount of soft cotton or pastel colors could mask the storm brewing around me.

The boutique was quiet, a small refuge in a city that never slept. I ran my fingers over a soft, cream-colored onesie, imagining the little hands and feet that would soon fill it. The moment brought a pang of hope and fear so sharp it made me wince.

And then I heard it.

A voice I’d hoped never to hear again.

“Evelyn.”

I froze. My stomach dropped. Slowly, I turned, half-expecting to see some harmless stranger.

But it wasn’t. It was Eloise.

The girl I grew up with. The girl I had once called my best friend. The one I had trusted with secrets, with laughter, with everything a teenage heart could give. And now… now she stood before me with eyes that no longer held warmth. Only venom.

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” she said, her voice sweet, but the undertone was sharp enough to cut. “Shopping for your little bundle of joy, I see. How… touching.”

I clutched a tiny sweater to my chest like a shield, my pulse hammering. “Eloise,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the fear curling in my stomach. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Trouble? Oh, Evelyn, this isn’t trouble. This is the truth. You’ve trapped him, haven’t you?”

My eyes narrowed. “Trapped him? Damian isn’t anyone’s victim. And this child—this is mine. Not yours. Not his. Not anyone else’s.”

Eloise took a step closer, the air between us charged. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve wrapped him around your finger. You’ve made him yours with a baby. Clever girl, Evelyn. But I’m not done yet.”

Something inside me stiffened. This was different from prison, from Adrian’s betrayal. This was personal. Raw. Poisoned. I could feel the years of friendship, of trust, of shared secrets, colliding with the present, and it made my chest ache.

“You think your games frighten me?” I said, voice low but unwavering. “I’ve survived prison, betrayal, and the man who swore he’d protect me. You don’t scare me, Eloise. Not anymore.”

Her eyes flickered for a split second. I thought I saw doubt. But it was gone, replaced by calculated venom. “You’ve changed, Evelyn. I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that I’ll let this go. Damian might be dazzled by your little trick, but the world isn’t blind. People will see you for what you really are. And I… will make sure everyone knows it.”

I pressed my hand instinctively to my stomach. “You don’t get it,” I said, my voice rising, my steel emerging like armor I hadn’t realized I still had. “I’m not here to play games. I’m here to protect my child. And if anyone dares to hurt me or my baby… they will regret it. You included.”

She laughed, soft and poisonous. “You think you have the upper hand? No, Evelyn. You think Damian loves you? Loves this child? He’s as calculating as ever. You’re just… convenient. Temporary. Replaceable.”

The words stung, but I refused to flinch. “I don’t need his approval. And I certainly don’t need yours. I’ve built walls around me—walls stronger than anything you’ve faced. And if you try to break me, you’ll find that I am not the girl I used to be.”

Her smile twisted, sharp and cruel. “You know, Evelyn… it’s almost tragic. I look at you now, and I see the girl I grew up with — the girl I used to call my best friend. And I can’t help but feel… so disappointed. You were better than this, weren’t you?”

The words hit me harder than any insult, cutting through the years like a knife. The girl I had trusted, laughed with, shared secrets with… had become a stranger whose sole joy was venom aimed at me. I swallowed the grief and disbelief.

“We’re not the same people we used to be,” I said, voice steady now, infused with something raw and unyielding. “I’ve survived, Eloise. And if you think your venom will break me… you’re wrong. Completely wrong.”

Eloise’s smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat. I saw her uncertainty, a crack in the ice, before it snapped back into place. “We’ll see, Evelyn. We’ll see.”

I turned away, trying to escape the tension, the venom, the girl I had loved and lost to betrayal. My hands shook as I clutched the baby clothes, my chest heavy with exhaustion. But then—

“Evelyn.”

The voice made me freeze. I turned, and my breath caught. Damian stood just outside the boutique, silent, watching, his dark eyes sweeping over the scene. His presence was magnetic, impossible to ignore.

Eloise stiffened the moment she saw him. There was no pretense of friendship, no hope of charm. Just raw, unrelenting calculation.

“You’ve been speaking about her,” Damian said, voice low, calm, and deadly. “About my wife and my heir.”

Eloise’s eyes flickered, panic threading her otherwise controlled expression. “I—I was just…”

“You were venomous,” Damian finished for her, each word deliberate, cutting. “And that ends now. Any attack on Evelyn, any smear, any public humiliation—consider it an attack on the Blackwoods. Do you understand?”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. The fire in her eyes was tempered by fear she had not expected to feel.

I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart hammering. Damian’s claim of protection was real, tangible, overwhelming. And for the first time in months, I felt… safe. In his presence, the threat of Eloise, the city, even Adrian, paled against the sheer weight of Damian’s authority.

Eloise’s shoulders slumped slightly, the venom draining from her posture as she realized the line she had crossed. And then, just before she could retreat, her phone buzzed. Her eyes flicked down, and I saw the screen light up with a notification.

A paparazzi photo had leaked online.

Damian was holding me protectively, our faces inches apart, the city skyline framing us like a scene meant for gossip magazines. The headline flashed across the screen of Eloise’s phone:

“Blackwood Heiress-to-be? Damian Blackwood Spotted with Pregnant Mystery Woman!”

Eloise’s gasp echoed in the quiet boutique. Her plan, her power, her venom—all laid bare to the world before she had even had a chance to act.

Damian’s eyes met mine, dark, unreadable, and yet… protective. His hand brushed mine, just slightly, a silent promise: “No one touches you. Not now, not ever.”

The screen’s glow reflected in Eloise’s wide eyes. Her lips parted, trembling with fury and disbelief. And then, she muttered, venomless but deadly in intent:

“This isn’t over, Evelyn. Not by a long shot.”

The world outside buzzed with speculation. Social media erupted, news outlets fired off updates, and the name “Evelyn Hart” became a firestorm overnight.

And I realized… this battle, which I had thought was personal, had just gone public.

I swallowed, heart racing, and felt the weight of the coming storm.

The baby in my womb fluttered, a reminder that my stakes had never been higher. And for the first time, I understood clearly: I wasn’t just fighting for myself anymore. I was fighting for my child, for my future, and for the life I refused to surrender to betrayal, wealth, or lies.

The boutique door clicked softly behind me. Damian’s hand remained near mine, his presence a fortress against the chaos. And I knew, with icy certainty, that nothing in my life would ever be the same.

The paparazzi photo had gone live. The internet was already erupting. And somewhere, deep in the shadows, I could feel Eloise plotting, calculating, ready to strike.

The battle had only just begun.