LOGINThe following weeks passed quietly inside the Monteverde mansion. Too quietly. Ariana slowly adjusted to her new life, but every single day still felt unnatural.
Every morning, stylists chose her clothes. Etiquette teachers corrected the way she walked, talked, and even held utensils. At night, she attended dinners and business gatherings beside Damien while pretending to be the perfect wife. It was really exhausting. She constantly felt like she was acting inside a world where she did not belong. But despite everything… One thing slowly began changing. Damien. He was still cold ,still distant and still emotionally unavailable. But little by little, Ariana started seeing cracks beneath his icy exterior. Like the way he silently waited for her whenever she walked too slowly in heels. Or how he always made sure she ate before long events. Sometimes, he even defended her from his family’s insults without making it obvious. Small things, tiny things. But enough to confuse Ariana’s heart. And that terrified her. Because Damien already warned her from the beginning. Don’t fall in love with me. Unfortunately… She was beginning to fail. One rainy evening, Ariana sat alone inside the mansion’s library while sketching dress designs on paper. Designing had always been her escape. Her dream. One of the few things that still made her feel like herself. She quietly focused on her drawing until a deep voice suddenly interrupted her. “You made those?” Ariana looked up in surprise. Damien stood near the doorway holding a glass of whiskey. She immediately straightened awkwardly. “I-I was just passing time.” Damien slowly approached her. Without permission, he picked up one of the sketches. His brows furrowed slightly. “These are good.” Ariana blinked. “You think so?” “I wouldn’t say it if they weren’t.” She stared at him quietly. It was strange hearing compliments from someone like Damien. He studied another design. “You wanted to become a designer?” Ariana smiled faintly. “I still do.” “Then why didn’t you?” Her smile slowly disappeared. “Life happened.” Damien remained silent. Ariana carefully took back the sketchbook. “My parents died when I was young. After that, everything became about surviving.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. Rain continued pouring outside the mansion windows. Then Damien suddenly asked. “Do you hate me?” Ariana froze. “What?” “You had dreams. Now you’re stuck in this arrangement because of me.” His voice remained calm, but she noticed something unusual in his eyes. Guilt. Ariana looked down at her sketchbook. “I don’t know.” Damien stared at her quietly. “I hated you at first,” she admitted honestly. “You treated my brother’s life like a business deal.” His jaw tightened slightly. “But Lucas is alive because of you too.” Silence filled the library. Then Ariana softly talk again. “I think you’re not as cruel as you pretend to be.” Damien immediately looked away. “You’re wrong.” Before Ariana could respond, his phone suddenly rang. The moment he saw the caller ID, his expression darkened. Selene. Ariana noticed the change instantly. “You can answer it.” Damien declined the call immediately. But seconds later, another message arrived. And another. And another. Ariana tried ignoring the uncomfortable feeling inside her chest. “Does she usually bother you this much?” Damien’s voice became colder. “She doesn’t know when to stop.” Ariana hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Why did she come back?” Damien took a slow sip of whiskey. “Money.” Ariana frowned. “What?” “Selene only loves power.” His eyes turned emotionless again. “She realized too late that nobody else could give her the life I gave her.” Ariana looked at him carefully. “And if she asks for another chance?” Damien laughed coldly. “There are things even money can’t repair.” Something painful flashed briefly across his face before disappearing again. Then Damien suddenly looked at Ariana. “Don’t stay up too late.” And just like always— He walked away before the conversation became too personal. Ariana stared at his retreating figure quietly. Her chest felt strangely heavy afterward. The next morning, Ariana woke up feeling dizzy. She slowly sat up while holding her forehead. “Why do I feel so weird…” She forced herself out of bed before heading toward the bathroom. But the moment she smelled the food downstairs— Her stomach twisted violently. Ariana immediately covered her mouth before rushing toward the sink. A few minutes later, she stared at herself in the mirror breathing heavily. Maybe it was stress. Or exhaustion. She had been overwhelmed lately. Trying to ignore it, Ariana went downstairs anyway. Inside the dining room, Damien was already eating breakfast while reading documents. Vanessa sat across from him scrolling through her phone lazily. The moment Ariana entered, Vanessa smirked. “Well, the charity case is awake.” Ariana ignored her and quietly sat down. But as soon as the maid placed food in front of her. Nausea hit again. Strong and sudden. Ariana immediately stood up and rushed toward the nearest bathroom. Vanessa blinked in surprise. “What was that?” Damien frowned slightly while staring toward the hallway. Several minutes later, Ariana returned looking pale. Damien quietly observed her. “You look sick.” “I’m fine.” “You don’t sound fine.” Vanessa suddenly gasped dramatically. “Oh my God.” Both Damien and Ariana looked at her. Vanessa smirked slowly. “Don’t tell me she’s pregnant already.” The entire room became silent. Ariana froze completely. Pregnant? The word echoed loudly inside her mind. No. Impossible. Right? Damien’s expression darkened instantly. “Vanessa.” “What?” she shrugged. “It happens.” Ariana quickly shook her head. “N-No. I’m probably just tired.” But even she no longer sounded convincing. Because deep inside… Fear was slowly creeping in. Later that afternoon, Ariana secretly went to a pharmacy alone. She wore sunglasses and a cap to avoid attention. Her hands trembled while paying for the pregnancy test. The cashier smiled politely. “First baby?” Ariana nearly choked. “N-No!” The cashier laughed lightly. Ariana quickly left the store feeling completely nervous. Back at the mansion, she locked herself inside the bathroom while staring at the small box in her hands. Her breathing became uneven. Please no… Not now. Not like this. With shaking fingers, she finally took the test. Then waited. Every second felt endless. Painful and terrifying. Ariana stared at the result while her entire world stopped moving. Positive. Her knees weakened instantly. “No…” Tears slowly filled her eyes. Positive. Ariana covered her mouth shakily. She was pregnant. Pregnant with Damien’s child. Her mind became chaotic instantly. How? Then suddenly— That night came back to her memory. Three weeks ago after a business celebration, Damien had returned drunk for the first time. He looked exhausted and broken. Ariana tried helping him to bed, but Damien suddenly grabbed her wrist and kissed her unexpectedly. At first, she pushed him away. But Damien kept whispering things that sounded painfully vulnerable. “Don’t leave me again…You promised…” Ariana knew he was mistaking her for someone else. Probably Selene. But somehow… That broken side of Damien shattered her defenses too. And that night— Everything between them changed. The next morning, Damien barely remembered anything. He simply acted colder afterward. As if hd was regretting it happened at all. Ariana never brought it up again. But now… There was a baby. Ariana slowly sat on the bathroom floor while tears fell silently. What was she supposed to do now? Would Damien think she trapped him intentionally? Would he hate her even more? Fear consumed her completely. Suddenly, someone knocked on the bedroom door outside. “Ariana?” It was Damien. She immediately panicked. “A-A minute!” “You’ve been inside there for almost an hour.” Ariana quickly hid the pregnancy test inside the drawer. Then she washed her face repeatedly before finally opening the bathroom door. Damien frowned the moment he saw her red eyes. “You were crying.” “No.” “Ariana.” “I’m fine.” But Damien clearly didn’t believe her. He studied her carefully. Pale face, shaking hands and swollen eyes. “What happened?” Ariana forced herself to stay calm. She shook her head. “Nothing.” Damien stepped closer. “You’ve been acting strange all day.” Her heart beat faster from panic. “I said I’m fine.” The sharpness in her voice surprised even herself. Damien’s expression hardened slightly. Silence filled the room. Then he spoke calmly again. “If something’s wrong, tell me.” For a brief moment, Ariana almost told him. Almost. But fear stopped her. Because Damien already made one thing clear from the start. This marriage had no room for emotions. No room for love. And definitely no room for a child. Ariana lowered her gaze. “I’m just tired.” Damien stared at her for several seconds longer before finally nodding once. “Get some rest.” Then he walked away toward his office area inside the room. Ariana quietly released the breath she was holding. But that night, she barely slept. Because while Damien worked only a few feet away from her… Ariana secretly placed one trembling hand over her stomach. And for the first time since discovering the truth— Fear mixed with something else. Something softer. Something warm. A tiny life was growing inside her. A child who had done nothing wrong. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Because no matter how complicated everything became Ariana already knew one thing. She would protect this baby. Even if she had to do it alone.The terror from Lucas’s phone call still clung to Ariana like a second skin, making the cold morning air inside her atelier feel suffocating. Selene was in Paris. The shadow that had nearly destroyed her life five years ago was no longer an ocean away—she was breathing the same air, walking the same cobblestone streets.Ariana stood behind her desk, staring blankly at the massive arrangement of one hundred white roses sitting on the central cutting table. The petals were pristine, untouched by the chaotic storm brewing around her.Before she could process her rising panic, the heavy glass doors of the atelier pushed open.Damien stepped inside. He wore a dark wool overcoat over a simple black turtleneck, discarding the rigid, armored corporate suits he usually wore. His hair was slightly windblown, his expression tense with a fierce, protective urgency that told Ariana he already knew."Lucas called me," Damien said without greeting, his voice low, gravelly, and laced with absolu
The air inside the grand ballroom of the Le Grand Hôtel Paris was suffocatingly refined, thick with the subtle aromas of vintage champagne, imported lilies, and high-end perfume. Crystal chandeliers cast a dazzling, golden glow over the gathered elite of the European fashion and finance sectors. Ariana stood near the floor-to-ceiling arched windows, holding a glass of sparkling water. She looked radiant in an original Maison Céleste creation—a sharply tailored ivory silk jumpsuit paired with a floor-length chiffon cape that draped over her shoulders like liquid moonlight. "Mademoiselle Villareal, I must confess, I spent twenty minutes studying your bridal collection catalog before coming here," a smooth, warm voice with a rich French accent spoke beside her. Ariana turned to see Julien Laurent. He was striking, dressed in an impeccably fitted charcoal tuxedo, his sandy hair styled with effortless sophistication, and his blue eyes holding a genuine, bright warmth. At thirty-fi
The floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Ariana’s private Parisian atelier overlooked the quiet, cobblestone alley of Rue Saint-Honoré. Inside, the air smelled of fresh espresso, steamed silk, and the lingering scent of autumn rain.Ariana stood behind her large cutting table, a pair of sharp dressmaker’s shears balanced motionless in her hand. She wasn't looking at the navy velvet pinned before her. Her eyes were fixed entirely on the sunlit corner of the lounge area.There, sitting cross-legged on the plush Persian rug, was the undisputed monarch of the Monteverde Group, a man worth billions, completely at the mercy of a four-year-old boy.Damien had discarded his jacket hours ago. His crisp white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his expensive silk tie tossed carelessly onto a armchair, and his dark hair was slightly messy, disheveled by small, eager hands. He was building a wooden railway track, carefully lining up the tiny engines under the intense, critical supervision of a
The residual heat of the elevator blackout lingered like a phantom itch long after the Parisian power grid surged back to life. The near-kiss had shattered the remaining illusions of their strictly professional boundary, leaving an unbearable, suffocating silence in its wake. Unable to cope with the maddening proximity inside the penthouse, Damien had vanished into the rainy Parisian night, seeking refuge in a secluded, dimly lit lounge near the Seine.By two in the morning, the rain had slowed to a miserable, rhythmic drizzle. Inside the private booth of the high-end bar, the amber glow of a half-empty bottle of single-malt scotch caught the sharp, exhausted contours of Damien's face. His hair was disheveled, his collar completely undone, his knuckles bruised from an internalized war he was losing."Monsieur, please, your associate left hours ago," the French bartender muttered anxiously, polishing a glass. "We are closing the establishment. You cannot remain here.""Leave the bottle
"You are invading my space, Mr. Monteverde. And quite frankly, the air in this penthouse is already thin enough without your constant, suffocating presence."Ariana didn't look up from her tablet as she sat on the white boucle sofa, her fingers swiping aggressively through digital fabric swatches. The evening had brought another sudden, violent Parisian downpour, rattling the massive glass windows of her Place des Vosges penthouse."I am sitting exactly where your security detail told me to sit, Ariana," Damien replied, his voice a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated through the quiet room. He was perch on a minimalist armchair across from her, a glass of untouched scotch resting between his large fingers. He had shed his tailor jacket... his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, but his posture remained as rigid and imposing as ever. "The hotel logistics team explicitly stated that the strike at the Plaza Athenee made my suite unsafe due to the protests outside. Your own le
"I do not eat the green trees, monsieur. They taste like the wet grass from the Jardin du Luxembourg."Elijah crossed his small arms over his chest... his tiny brow knitting together in a rigid, stubborn line that sent a bizarre shock of familiarity straight down Damien’s spine. The boy sat at the massive, polished mahogany dining table of Ariana’s Place des Vosges penthouse, staring with absolute defiance at a small plate of lightly steamed broccoli."They are not trees, Elijah. It's broccoli," Damien said, his voice a deep, unpracticed rumble in the bright, sunlit room. He sat awkwardly on a sleek, modern chair that felt entirely too small for his imposing frame. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt... his expensive Rolex catching the morning light, but he looked completely out of his depth. "And you need to eat them. They make you strong.""Maman says I am already strong because I eat my croissants. And Uncle Lucas says vegetables are only for the rabbits. Ar
Rain poured heavily across the city that night. The cold wind slapped against Ariana Celeste Villareal’s skin as she ran across the hospital entrance while desperately pushing her younger brother’s wheelchair.“Lucas! Stay awake! Please… just stay awake!” Her trembling voice broke between sobs.Six
The air between Damien and Ariana felt suffocating. They stood facing each other in the hallway outside the charity luncheon while the photographs remained clenched tightly in Damien’s hand.Ariana’s chest rose unevenly. “Damien, please listen to me first.”His eyes looked terrifyingly emotionless.
For the next several days, Ariana avoided Damien as much as possible. She left the room early. She ate meals quickly. And constantly made excuses whenever Damien tried speaking to her. The pregnancy terrified her. Every time she looked at Damien, guilt tightened painfully inside her chest. Because
Morning sunlight slowly entered through the massive glass windows of Damien’s bedroom. Ariana woke up feeling disoriented. For several seconds, she stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling before reality came crashing back. She was married. Married to Damien Monteverde. Her chest tightened instantl







