LOGINFor 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 she still hadn’t told him the truth.
Meanwhile, Damien slowly became more irritated by her strange behavior. Inside the Monteverde mansion’s dining room, he watched Ariana quietly sipping water while avoiding eye contact again. “You’ve barely eaten.” Ariana forced a smile. “I’m not hungry.” “You said that yesterday too.” “I’m fine.” Damien placed down his coffee cup slowly. “You keep saying that.” Vanessa rolled her eyes dramatically from across the table. “Maybe your wife finally realized how exhausting it is pretending to be classy.” Ariana ignored her. But Damien’s gaze remained fixed on Ariana. Something was definitely wrong. Even her face looked paler lately. Then suddenly— Ariana stood up too quickly. Her vision spun violently. Damien immediately caught her arm before she collapsed. “Ariana.” She quickly pulled away. “I’m okay.” But Damien’s brows furrowed deeply. “You almost fainted.” “I said I’m fine.” Her voice came out sharper than intended. The dining room became silent. Damien slowly released her arm. His expression turned colder. “Fine.” Ariana instantly regretted her tone. But fear kept consuming her. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. That same afternoon, Ariana secretly visited the hospital for another checkup. The female doctor smiled warmly while reviewing the ultrasound results. “You’re almost two months pregnant.” Ariana stared at the tiny image on the screen silently. Her baby. A small heartbeat echoed softly inside the room. And somehow— Everything suddenly became real. Tears slowly filled Ariana’s eyes. The doctor smiled gently. “First pregnancy?” Ariana nodded weakly. “You should avoid stress as much as possible.” If only it were that easy. The doctor continued kindly, “Does your husband know already?” Ariana froze slightly. “No.” The doctor looked surprised. “You should tell him soon.” Ariana forced a faint smile. “Maybe...” But deep inside, fear screamed louder. Because she already knew Damien’s answer. He would think the baby was a mistake. An inconvenience. Another chain trapping him inside a marriage he never wanted. That evening, Ariana returned to the mansion feeling emotionally drained. But the moment she entered— she froze. Selene Cortez sat comfortably inside the living room beside Cassandra Monteverde. Laughing and smiling. Acting like she belonged there. Ariana’s chest tightened instantly. Selene slowly looked toward her and smiled sweetly. “Oh. The wife is home.” Cassandra calmly sipped her tea. “Selene came to visit.” Ariana forced politeness. “I can see that.” Selene stood gracefully and approached Ariana. “You look tired,” she commented softly. “Are you sick?” Ariana instinctively stepped back slightly. “I’m fine.” Selene’s eyes narrowed subtly. Then Damien suddenly entered the mansion from outside. The moment he saw Selene, his entire expression darkened. “What is she doing here?” Selene sighed dramatically. “Still so cold.” “I asked a question.” Cassandra frowned immediately. “Damien, stop being rude.” Damien ignored her completely. His sharp gaze remained on Selene. “Leave.” But Selene only smiled calmly. “You can’t even tolerate my presence now?” Damien’s jaw tightened. “I’m warning you.” Ariana silently watched the tension between them. Even without asking questions, she could already feel it. Selene still affected him. Maybe not with love anymore— but definitely with pain. Selene slowly looked toward Ariana again. “Your wife seems nervous around me.” Damien’s expression hardened instantly. “Enough.” Selene smirked faintly. Then she leaned closer toward Damien and whispered loud enough for Ariana to hear. “You used to look at me like that once too.” The atmosphere became suffocating. Ariana suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe inside that room anymore. “I’ll go upstairs first,” she muttered quietly. Without waiting for a response, she walked away. But before disappearing completely, she heard Selene’s soft laughter behind her. That night, Ariana sat alone inside the bedroom balcony while hugging her knees tightly. Her emotions felt messy, complicated and painful. She hated how affected she was becoming. This marriage was never supposed to involve feelings. Yet somehow… Every cold glance from Damien hurt. Every moment involving Selene bothered her. And now there was a baby involved too. Ariana closed her eyes tightly. “What am I doing…” Suddenly, the balcony door opened behind her. Damien stepped outside. “You disappeared earlier.” Ariana avoided his eyes. “I was tired.” Silence lingered between them. Then Damien spoke again. “Selene won’t bother you.” Ariana gave a bitter laugh. “She already is.” Damien frowned slightly. “She said nothing important.” “That’s easy for you to say.” He studied her face carefully. “You’ve been distant lately.” Ariana’s chest tightened. Because he wasn’t wrong. Damien slowly approached her. “What are you hiding from me?” Fear instantly flashed across her eyes. Damien noticed it immediately. “Ariana.” “I’m not hiding anything.” “You can barely even look at me.” She stood up quickly. “Maybe because this arrangement is getting harder!” The words escaped before she could stop herself. Damien became silent. Ariana immediately regretted it. But emotions continued overflowing. “I’m trying, Damien,” she whispered shakily. “I’m trying so hard to fit into your world, but no matter what I do, everyone keeps reminding me I don’t belong here.” Damien’s expression softened slightly. “They’ll adjust eventually.” “And what about you?” Silence. A painful silence. Ariana laughed weakly. “See?” Damien stared at her quietly. Then unexpectedly— He reached out and gently touched her face. Ariana froze instantly. “You think too much.” His voice sounded softer than usual. Dangerously soft. Their eyes met. And for one terrifying moment, Ariana almost forgot everything. The contract. The pain. The pregnancy. Everything. Because Damien was looking at her differently. Not cold, not distant. Just… human. Slowly, Damien leaned closer. Ariana’s breath hitched. Then suddenly— A ringtone interrupted everything. Damien immediately stepped back. The moment he saw the caller ID, his expression darkened again. Selene. Ariana felt something painful twist inside her chest. Damien declined the call instantly. But the moment he looked back at Ariana, the moment was already gone. The next few days became worse. Selene kept appearing everywhere. Business events. Family dinners. Even charity meetings. It was obvious she was doing it intentionally. And Cassandra openly welcomed her every single time. Meanwhile, rumors about Ariana spread rapidly among high society women. Gold digger. Fake wife. Poor nobody. People whispered those words constantly. Ariana tried enduring everything quietly. For her baby. For Lucas. For survival. But eventually— Even strong people break. One afternoon, Ariana attended a charity luncheon with Cassandra and several elite women. The atmosphere already felt uncomfortable from the beginning. Then one woman suddenly smiled mockingly. “So Ariana, how exactly did you seduce Damien?” Soft laughter echoed around the table. Ariana forced herself to remain calm. “I didn’t seduce anyone.” Another woman smirked. “Oh please. Men like Damien don’t marry poor women without reason.” “Maybe she got pregnant already.” The women laughed louder. Ariana instinctively froze. Fear flashed across her face too quickly. Selene noticed immediately. Selene slowly smiled while observing Ariana carefully. Then Cassandra suddenly spoke coldly. “You should know your place, Ariana.” The room became silent. Cassandra placed down her teacup elegantly. “My son deserves someone worthy of the Monteverde name.” Every word pierced Ariana painfully. “And you are not her.” Ariana slowly clenched her fists beneath the table. “I never asked for this marriage.” Selene tilted her head slightly. “But you accepted it.” Ariana looked directly at her. “Yes. Because unlike some people, I don’t abandon others when things become difficult.” Selene’s smile disappeared instantly. The tension became dangerous. But before things could escalate further— A waiter suddenly approached Ariana. “Ma’am, someone is looking for you outside.” Confused, Ariana excused herself and walked toward the hallway. The moment she stepped outside— A familiar man approached her nervously. Her face paled immediately. “Mark?” Mark was her former coworker from years ago. Why was he here? “Ariana,” he whispered urgently. “Someone paid me to give this to Damien.” He handed her several photographs. Ariana’s blood ran cold. The photos showed her talking to Mark weeks ago outside a pharmacy. But the angles looked suspicious. Intimate and misleading. She immediately understood. Someone planned to frame her. “Who gave you these?” Mark looked guilty. “A woman named Selene.” Ariana’s chest tightened violently. Before she could respond— A cold voice suddenly echoed behind them. “What’s going on here?” It's Damien. Ariana froze. Damien’s sharp eyes slowly landed on the photographs in her hands. Then on Mark. Then back to Ariana. The atmosphere instantly became heavy. Dangerously heavy. “Ariana,” Damien spoke calmly. Too calmly. “Who is he?” Fear consumed her completely. “It’s not what you think.” Damien held out his hand silently. “Give me the photos.” Ariana hesitated. Big mistake. Because Damien’s expression darkened instantly. Slowly, he grabbed the photographs himself. And the moment he saw them— Something inside him snapped. His eyes turned terrifyingly cold. Mark quickly panicked. “Sir, wait—” “Get out.” The dangerous quietness in Damien’s voice made Mark leave immediately. Now only Ariana and Damien remained standing there. Ariana’s heart pounded violently. “Damien, listen to me—” “How long?” Her face paled. “What?” “How long have you been lying to me?” Pain crashed into her chest. “I didn’t cheat on you!” Damien laughed coldly. “Do you think I’m stupid?” Ariana’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “It’s fabricated!” “Of course it is.” His sarcasm destroyed her further. Ariana shook her head desperately. “Please believe me.” Damien stared at her with the same cold eyes she feared from the beginning. The same eyes that never trusted her completely. And suddenly— Ariana realized something heartbreaking. No matter what happened… Damien would always choose doubt over her.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
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.
The 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
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
Ariana did not sleep that night. She remained seated outside Lucas’ hospital room while tightly holding Damien Monteverde’s business card in her trembling hands. Every second felt heavy.Painful.Suffocating.Marriage.The word kept repeating inside her mind like a curse. She had dreamed about love







