CHAPTER 25: BLOODS SECRET

Damian ended the call and tossed the phone onto the nightstand like it had burned him. Marcus’s words still echoed in the small bedroom of the Brooklyn brownstone. "secret connection to the King family". Chloe’s hand stayed fisted in his shirt, her eyes wide and demanding answers.

“What connection?” she repeated, voice sharp. “Marcus just said I wasn’t chosen at random. That this whole surrogacy was a setup from the beginning. Tell me what he’s talking about, Damian. Right now. No more protecting old family secrets.”

He stood up from the bed slowly, creating distance even though every part of him wanted to pull her closer after that kiss. His mind raced through the implications—old files he’d buried, rumors his father had silenced years ago. “It’s complicated. My family has a long history of… arrangements. My father had affairs. Illegitimate children. Marcus isn’t the only one. There were whispers about other connections, other women who got paid off. I never dug deep because it didn’t matter. Until now.”

Chloe pushed off the bed, one hand on her belly as she faced him fully. “That’s not an answer. You hesitated. Again. I just let you kiss me, really kiss me, and you’re still holding back pieces that could explain why your mother picked me specifically. Why Sarah was paid to connect us. Why any of this happened. I’m done with half-truths, Damian. This is my life. My babies. If there’s something tying me to your toxic family, I deserve to know.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, jaw tight. The instinct to control the information—to shield her from more pain—surged strong. “Knowing more right now won’t help. It could make the threats worse. Marcus is using it as leverage for the board vote. If I start digging publicly, it blows everything open. The scandals, the custody fights, all of it gets uglier.”

“Control issues,” Chloe snapped. She took a step closer, eyes flashing. “That’s what this is. You still think you get to decide what I can handle. I’ve had my privacy violated by cameras in my bedroom. My best friend sold me out. The whole world calls me a gold-digger. And you’re standing there deciding I can’t know the full truth about my own connection to this mess? I trusted you enough to kiss you back. Don’t make me regret that.”

The words stung. Damian exhaled hard and reached for her, but she held up a hand. “Chloe, I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying not to destroy what little trust we have left by dumping more family poison on you. My father destroyed lives with his secrets. I swore I wouldn’t be like him. But if Marcus is right and there’s a direct link...”

“Then tell me,” she cut in, voice breaking slightly. “Stop protecting the past and protect me by being honest. All of it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, the fight draining from his shoulders. “Fine. There were rumors my father had another child with a woman from Brooklyn. A bakery worker or something similar. It was buried deep. payoffs, NDAs, the whole thing. I never confirmed it. Never wanted to. If you’re connected to that… if my mother chose you because of it, then this surrogacy wasn’t random. It was calculated revenge or control or something worse.”

Chloe’s hand dropped to her side. She stepped forward and closed the distance, pressing her forehead against his chest. “Thank you. For telling me. Even if it’s messy.”

Damian wrapped his arms around her carefully, one hand on her lower back, the other cradling the side of her belly where the twins moved. The argument hung between them, raw and unresolved, but the pull was stronger. He tilted her chin up with his fingers. Their eyes locked. The kiss came faster this time—heat and frustration and weeks of slow-burning need crashing together. Chloe rose on her toes, fingers threading into his hair as she kissed him back fiercely. His hands tightened on her waist, mindful of her belly between them, but the emotion poured out unchecked. It wasn’t gentle. It was real. Desperate. Two broken people holding onto something solid in the middle of the storm.

They broke apart breathing hard, foreheads still touching. Chloe’s lips were slightly swollen, her eyes darker. “Don’t hide things from me again,” she whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, voice rough. “Not anymore.”

A loud knock sounded on the front door of the brownstone. Security’s voice carried through. “Mr. King. We have a situation. Vanessa is outside demanding entry. She says she has DNA proof the twins are hers and she’s not leaving until you hear it.”

Damian’s arms tightened around Chloe protectively. They both turned toward the door as footsteps approached and Vanessa’s voice rang out from the hallway beyond.

“Open the door, Damian! I have the results. Those babies are mine. Not hers.”

Chloe pulled back from him, eyes hardening as she placed both hands on her belly. “Let her in. We end this now.”