Chapter 2

Damien’s Pov

She signed faster than I expected.

I watched Lena from across the penthouse living room three weeks later as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms wrapped around herself. The city lights glittered below us like they always did, cold and distant.

“You haven’t eaten,” I said, setting my laptop aside.

She turned, surprise flickering across her face. “I’m fine.”

“You skipped dinner last night too.” I stood up and walked over. “The kitchen is fully stocked. Use it.”

Lena studied me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t solve. “Why do you care? This is a contract, right? I play wife when people are watching. That’s it.”

I stopped a few feet away. “Correct. But if you collapse from hunger, it becomes my problem. Eat.”

She gave a small, tired laugh. “You’re strange, Damien. You know that?”

“People have called me worse.”

We fell into silence. She eventually moved to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. I pretended to work, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. Three months in and the careful distance I’d planned wasn’t holding. She left lights on for me even though I told her not to. She asked how my day was like it mattered.

I didn’t like how much I noticed.

Later that night, I heard her on the phone in the guest room, voice low.

“Noah… they said the appeal might go through soon. Just hold on, okay? I’m handling it.”

She sounded so damn hopeful. I stepped away before she could see me, jaw tight. The deal was simple. She was a means to an end.

So why did that lie feel heavier every single day?

It had started two weeks earlier. After a brutal board meeting, I came home to find Lena still awake, reading on the couch with a glass of wine. She looked up and smiled softly. “Rough day?”

I poured myself a drink and sat across from her. For once, I answered honestly. “Exhausting. My cousin Raphael is pushing again on the will clauses.”

We talked longer than usual. One glass turned into two. She laughed at something I said, and the sound hit me harder than it should have. When she stood to head to bed, I caught her hand.

“Lena… stay.”

She froze. “Damien, this wasn’t part of the contract.”

“I know.” My voice came out rough. “But right now, I don’t care about the contract.”

She searched my eyes for a long moment, then stepped closer. “Just tonight?”

“Just tonight,” I agreed, even as something in my chest warned me it wouldn’t be that simple.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom at first. I kissed her against the kitchen island, slow at first, then deeper when she kissed me back. Her hands slid under my shirt, tentative but warm. I lifted her onto the counter, tasting wine on her tongue and feeling her legs wrap around me. She whispered my name like a question and an answer at the same time.

We moved to my room eventually. Clothes came off piece by piece between kisses and quiet breaths. She was soft, responsive, and surprisingly bold once the initial nerves faded. I took my time, tracing her skin, listening to every small sound she made.

When I entered her, she gasped and held onto my shoulders, eyes locked on mine in the dim light. It wasn’t rushed. It felt real, too real. We moved together until we both shattered, her face buried in my neck as she came undone.

Afterward, she lay curled against my side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest. “We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured.

“Probably not,” I replied, but I didn’t let her go. We fell asleep like that.

The next morning she slipped back to her own room before I woke up. Neither of us mentioned it for days, but the air between us had shifted.

***********************

Two weeks later, I came back from a meeting to find her waiting in the living room, face pale.

“Damien,” she said quietly, “we need to talk. I’m pregnant.”

Before I could even process the words, my phone rang. It was Raphael. I answered on speaker without thinking.

“About the pregnancy clause in the contract,” Raphael’s voice came through clearly. “If there’s a child, everything changes. The heir becomes a priority. Custody stays with you, of course. The mother’s role is… secondary. We both know you have the lawyers to make sure of it.”

Lena’s face went white. She took one step back, then another.

I opened my mouth to respond, but she was already turning away.

“Wait, Lena,” I called, hanging up on Raphael mid-sentence. “That wasn’t what it sounded like. Let me explain.”

She spun around, eyes flashing. “Explain? I heard every word, Damien! The heir matters, not me. You get the baby and I disappear. That was always your plan, wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t. Raphael was talking hypotheticals. I haven’t even thought about any of that yet.” I stepped closer. “You’re pregnant? How long have you known?”

“Two days,” she whispered. “I was trying to find the right way to tell you. Guess I got my answer without needing courage.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “This changes things, but not like that. We can talk about custody fairly. I’m not trying to take a child from its mother.”

“Fairly?” Her laugh was sharp. “You have all the power here. Lawyers, money, the Laurent name. I’m nobody. Why would I believe you now?”

“Because the contract doesn’t say anything about stealing a baby. I’m not a monster, Lena.”

She crossed her arms. “You picked me because I was desperate and had no connections. That sounds pretty monstrous to me. What if I want to leave? Take the baby and go?”

“We’re not there yet. Just… sit down. We’ll figure this out together.”

“I need time,” she said, voice breaking slightly. “Don’t follow me.”

She locked herself in her room after that. I paced the penthouse, calling Marcus.

“She’s pregnant,” I told him. “Keep security tight but don’t crowd her. And get Raphael on the line. I need to know what game he’s playing.”

Marcus replied, “Congratulations, sir? Or should I hold off?”

“Just do your job.” I ended the call.

The next day I tried again. “Lena, open the door. I had the kitchen make your favorite pasta. We can talk like adults.”

“Go away, Damien. I’m thinking.”

“Thinking about running?” I asked through the wood.

Silence. Then, “Maybe I should. This was supposed to be temporary. A baby makes everything permanent and messy.”

“It doesn’t have to be messy. We could make this work. You’ve seen I’m not the cold bastard you expected, right?”

She opened the door a crack. “I’ve seen you notice when I don’t eat and pretend you don’t care. That confuses me more than anything. What do you really want from me now?”

“Honesty. We renegotiate if needed. But don’t shut me out completely.”

Lena sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”

I walked away feeling something I hadn’t in years, worry mixed with hope. That night I couldn’t sleep, replaying her words and wondering how a simple contract had become so complicated.