CHAPTER 19: FRACTURED VOWS

Damian snatched the bouquet of white roses off the coffee table the second Chloe’s hand started to shake. He carried them straight to the kitchen trash, stems snapping as he shoved the entire arrangement down hard. The cream envelope followed, torn in half twice before it landed on top.

“She doesn’t get to do this,” he said, voice rough as he wiped pollen off his hands. “Not in our home, Not anymore.”

Chloe stood frozen in the living room, arms wrapped tight around her belly, shoulders hunched forward like she could shield the twins from the words on that card. “The real mother is coming back. She’s in our space again, Damian. What if she’s right? What if they take the babies and I’m left with nothing but court battles and empty arms?”

He crossed back to her in three strides and pulled her against his chest, one arm locked around her shoulders, the other hand splayed protectively over her lower back. “That’s not happening, I won’t let it. I’m ending the threats,All of them. Marcus, my mother, Vanessa.whatever it takes. You and the twins stay right here, With me.”

She stayed rigid for a long moment, then her forehead dropped against his shirt. Her breathing hitched once, twice, before she pulled back enough to look up at him. “You keep saying that. But every promise gets tested the next day. I can’t keep spiraling like this. The twins feel it when I do.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, but it kept going. He pulled it out with one hand while keeping the other on Chloe’s back. Board member name on the screen. He answered on speaker so she could hear.

“King,” the man said without greeting, “the board’s getting restless. This messy marriage, the leaked contract, Vanessa’s posts, it’s tanking confidence. Distance yourself publicly, Announce a separation after the babies are born, Clean it up or we may have to reconsider leadership before the vote.”

Damian’s grip tightened on the phone. “No, Chloe is my wife. We’re staying married, The twins are ours. If the board wants to vote me out over that, let them. I’m not throwing my family under the bus to save my chair.”

The board member scoffed. “Sentimental choices get companies destroyed. Think about it.” The line went dead.

Chloe stepped out of his arms, rubbing her hands over her face. “See? Even they want me gone. Your world keeps pushing.”

“I refused,” Damian said, setting the phone down. “I’m not distancing. Not now. Not ever.” He reached for her again, but she moved to the couch and sank down, exhaustion clear in every line of her body.

Hours later, well past midnight, the penthouse lights dimmed low. Chloe hadn’t gone to bed. She sat curled on the couch with a blanket over her legs. Damian brought two mugs of the chamomile tea she liked and sat close beside her.

“You’re still up,” he said, handing her one.

“Can’t sleep.” She took the mug but didn’t drink. Her fingers traced the rim instead. “All this makes me think about my exes. The ones before you. They said I was too much. Too big to love properly. Too obsessed with wanting kids without a ring. One of them laughed when I talked about doing it alone. Called me delusional. Another one said no man would stick around looking like I do after pregnancy. They made me feel unworthy. Like I had to earn the right to be a mother, to be wanted.”

Damian set his mug on the table and turned toward her fully. He listened without interrupting, his hand resting on the back of the couch near her shoulder.

“I built walls after that,” she continued, voice quieter. “The bakery became my safe place. Then Sarah called about you and I thought this surrogacy deal would finally give me what I wanted without risking that pain again. But here we are. Married. Fighting everyone. And I’m still scared I’m not enough for any of it.”

He shifted closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against his side. She let him. Her head rested on his chest, one hand staying on her belly. Damian held her like that, his fingers tracing slow patterns on her upper arm, saying nothing for a long time.

“You are enough,” he said finally, voice low against her hair. “More than. Your exes were idiots who couldn’t see what they had. I see it. Every argument, every late-night bake, every time you push back on me, you make me better. Worthy of you and them.”

Chloe’s hand found his free one and squeezed. They stayed like that, tangled on the couch, the city quiet outside the windows. The warmth of her against him, the faint movements of the twins he could feel when his hand drifted lower—the moment felt solid. Real in a way contracts and galas never could be.

A sharp knock sounded at the door. Security entered without waiting, face grim.

“Mr. King. We tested the new batch of prenatal vitamins that arrived yesterday. Someone tampered with them again. Traces of the same medication found in earlier bloodwork, It was meant for Chloe.”

Chloe’s body went rigid against Damian.