CHAPTER 6: venessa child

Get out,” Damian snarled, stepping closer to Vanessa in the middle of the penthouse living room. “We’re done. You walked away in front of the cameras. Don’t come back here claiming it’s my kid.”

Vanessa tossed her hair, hand resting on her flat stomach like that proved anything. “You sure about that? We were together right before I left. Timing works, And your mother already believes me, She called me yesterday, Damian, Said this whole surrogate mess was a mistake you’d fix.”

From the hallway, Chloe’s footsteps halted. Damian caught the faint shift of her weight near the corner, but he kept his eyes on Vanessa. “My mother can believe whatever she wants. You’re not pregnant with my child, Get the hell out before I have security drag you.”

Vanessa’s laugh cut sharp. “Security? For the mother of your actual heir? Keep playing house with your bakery girl. See how long that lasts when the board hears I’m teaming up with your mother to clean this up. She’s already lining up the right doctors, the right story.”

Chloe moved then. Damian heard her retreat down the hall, door closing harder than necessary. He pointed at the exit. “Leave. Now.”

Vanessa grabbed her bag, lips curled. “You’ll regret this.” The door slammed behind her.

Damian stood there a moment, fists clenched at his sides. He turned toward the hallway and found Chloe already back in the guest suite, arms wrapped around her belly as she stared out the window. She didn’t look at him when he entered.

“Chloe.”

“Don’t.” Her voice came flat. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then crossed her arms tighter, pulling inward. “She’s back, claiming your baby. Your mother’s helping her. I’m just the temporary oven again. Same old plan.”

“That’s not happening.” He took a step closer but stopped when her shoulders stiffened. “Vanessa’s lying. I ended it. You’re carrying the twins. That’s what matters.”

Chloe turned finally, eyes narrowed. “What matters is you still have all the power. One phone call from your mother and everything shifts. I heard her. I heard all of it.” She moved to the bed and sat on the edge, hands pressing into the mattress like she needed to anchor herself. “I’m pulling back, For my own head. Don’t expect me to play nice just because you tell me to.”

His phone buzzed. Bakery mentions again. The publicity from the scandal had spiked orders online, but the comments sections had turned ugly. Harassment calls to the shop. One employee had already quit after a nasty encounter outside.

“I’ll handle the bakery,” he said. “You focus on resting.”

She gave a short nod but didn’t answer. The distance between them felt wider than the room.

Later that afternoon, Damian sat in his home office and placed an order with Chloe’s regular suppliers. Double the usual flour, her favorite imported chocolate, the specific vanilla she swore by. He added a note for priority delivery and paid extra for it. A small thing. Maybe it would cut through the wall she’d put up. She bakes when she’s overwhelmed. This might give her something she controls.*

He found her in the kitchen an hour later when the delivery arrived. She unpacked the boxes slowly, fingers tracing the familiar labels.

“You ordered this?” she asked without turning around.

“Yes.”

Chloe closed one box and pushed it aside. “Thanks. But it doesn’t fix the rest. The shop’s blowing up with orders and hate messages at the same time. My staff is scared. I can’t even go in without someone snapping pictures or yelling shit at me.”

“I have people on it,” he said. “Security at the bakery. Legal on the worst of the online stuff.”

She wiped her hands on a dish towel, grip tight. “Your fix for everything. Throw money and control at it. What happens when your mother and Vanessa push harder? You’ll pick the cleaner option. The one that fits your world.”

Before he could respond, his phone rang. The doctor’s name flashed on the screen.