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Chapter 12 - The Envelope

Author: Pearl's pen
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-08-31 22:21:42

Damian's POV

The city shone with bright colourful lights outside Damian's penthouse window, but he barely noticed. Manhattan at night was a spectacle, colourful lights bleeding into the sky, car horns echoing through the avenues, the restless heartbeat of power and greed. It was the kind of view men killed for, the kind of view he had built his empire to own.

And yet, all he could see was that envelope.

It sat on the table like a curse, its thick ivory paper folded neatly, mocking him. His father's words played on repeat in his head.

Damian poured himself a drink, the crystal glass reflecting the city lights as he swallowed a mouthful of his scotch. The burn in his throat was nothing compared to the turmoil in his chest. Gregory had no right to dictate his life. He wasn't some weak child waiting for scraps. He had earned his place, bled for it, clawed his way through hostile takeovers and ruthless negotiations.

And yet?

He sank into the leather couch, his fingers drumming against the glass and his eyes still fixed on the envelope. His father was cruel, manipulative, calculating, but he wasn't stupid. Gregory wouldn't risk something this serious without leverage.

The “envelope” wasn't just a threat. It was a plan already set in motion.

Damian knew his father too well.

He cursed under his breath, standing abruptly and pacing across the room. His reflection glared back at him from the walls, tall, broad shouldered, every inch the billionaire CEO who commanded fear in every boardroom across the world. But in that reflection, he saw something he doubted.

He grabbed the envelope off the table and tore it open again, glancing through the contents. The documents were detailed, legal jargons, confidentiality agreement, health requirements, even stipulations about the clients preferred method of conception. He sneered, Gregory knew exactly what buttons to press.

Damian slammed the papers shut and threw them onto the couch. His phone buzzed.

It was Reed.

“Tell me you're drinking”, Reed's voice echoed when Damian answered.

“I'm drinking”, Damian muttered, downing the rest of his glass.

" Good. Because if I were you, I'd be black-out drunk right now. Your father called me”.

Damian froze. “He what?”

Reed sighed. “He wanted to make sure u understood the legal ramifications. Damian, the clause us airtight. If you don't produce an heir in the next couple of months, the inheritance skips you. It goes to the foundation board.

Damian's grip tightened on the phone. “He wouldn't dare”.

“Oh, he'd dare”, Reed says dryly. “This is Gregory were talking about. He's probably already picked out the wallpaper for your kids nursery, you know him”.

Damian paced the room, rage simmering. “This is insane. I don't need his money. I don't need his company”.

“You don't need it”, Reed agreed. “But your life is built around it. Walking away now would be like cutting off your own arm”.

Silence stretched between them. Damian stared out at the skyline, jaw clenched.

Reed lowered his voice. “What’s in the envelope he gave you?”

Damian exhaled loudly. “A brochure. A surrogate clinic brochure”.

There was a quick pause before Reed chuckled bitterly. “Of course. Classic Gregory. Efficient, clinical, no room for emotions. He probably picked someone already”.

The words sent shivers down Damian's spine. That what exactly what Gregory had hinted at.

Reed added “You don't have to do this, you know. There are ways around it. Loopholes. Hell, fake a marriage, fake a kid”.

“No”. Damian cut him off sharply. “I don't fake. I don't lie. And I don't bend”.

Reed sighed. “Then what's your move?”

Damian's gaze drifted back to the envelope, lying there like a ticking time bomb.

“I don't know yet”, he admitted.

“Figure it out fast”, Reed said. “Because knowing Gregory, he's already five steps ahead”.

When the call ended, Damian stood there for a long time, his thoughts all over the place, staring at the papers. His father's voice echoed in his head “You can resist me, Damian. Bug you can't resist time”.

With a frustrated shout, he hit the envelope off the couch, papers scattering across the floor. He was done with Gregory's games.

But as he turned away, one page slid free, landing right beside him, catching his attention. He froze.

It wasn't legal jargons. It wasn't the surrogate clinic brochure. It was a profile. A woman's profile.

Name: Evelyn Carter

Age: 25

Status: Single

Background: Clean. Healthy. Debt-burdened.

There was even a photograph clipped to the corner, the photograph looked like it had been taking during an event, maybe a charity event. And, the woman in the picture? She wasn't aware, she didn't know someone hac taken pictures of her.

Damian bent over, lifting the page slowly. The lady wasn't dressed in a glamorous way. Just a candid shot of a young woman standing in front of a table arranging artworks. Her hair pulled back, eyes downcast, her smile faint but genuine.

Something about it stopped him.

She didn't look like any of the women he knew. Not like Vanessa, not like the models and socialites who threw themselves at him during events. Evelyn Carter looked ordinary. Vulnerable. Real.

Damian's throat tightened. He hated the way his chest reacted, the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. He told himself it was just a reaction of being surprised, just curiosity.

But deep down, he knew better.

He folded the profile slowly, slipping it back into the envelope carefully. His father wasn't making mouth. Gregory already had a candidate lined up if he doesn't take the surrogate option.

And if Damian didn't act fast, the decision would be made for him. And, that decision could be marriage.

The clock in his mind clicked louder, reminding him of Gregory's words.

Damian stared at the envelope concealing Evelyn's profile one last time, his icy eyes narrowing. For the first, the ruthless CEO felt the ground shift beneath him. He whispered into the silence, “Who the hell are you?”

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