Todos los capítulos de Boardroom to Bedroom: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

The message came at 2:14 a.m."You've ignored me long enough, Damian. I'm five months along. You've missed everything - every scan, every sleepless night. Do you even care? Or are you pretending this baby doesn't exist?"Damian stared at the glowing screen in silence, the words slicing through him sharper than any knife. He'd tried to bury Isla in the chaos - drown her voice in guilt, in regret, in the noise of losing Elena - but she always found a way to reach through the cracks.He dropped his phone on the bed, pressing both hands against his face. The silence of the apartment was deafening. Every clock tick felt like a reminder that his life was fracturing, one lie at a time.Another buzz."I go to antenatal alone, Damian. Alone. Do you know how humiliating that feels? Everyone else has someone holding their hand, and I'm sitting in a waiting room pretending you'll walk in. I hate that I still hope you will."His stomach knotted. The guilt hit him like waves - heavy, relentless, im

I've lost count of how many times Damian's name has flashed on my phone.At first, I stared at every message, my thumb hovering over "reply." Now, I don't even open them. I just... stare. Watch them pile up. Like guilt, like regret.He's texted I'm sorry.Then Please, Elena, let's talk.Then It's not what you think.And the one that nearly broke me: I still love you.Love. That stupid, heavy, useless word.I toss my phone onto the bed, hearing it bounce against the sheets, and press the heels of my palms against my eyes. I can still hear his voice - the roughness when he says my name, the way his hand used to brush my hair behind my ear like I was something fragile.I hate that I miss it. I hate that I miss him.People think heartbreak feels like crying or screaming or slamming doors. But it's quieter than that. It's waking up in the middle of the night and reaching out for someone who isn't there. It's scrolling through old pictures and pretending you're just deleting them when reall

Damian's POV The air outside felt different that night. Cold, biting, but strangely clean - like the world was giving me one last chance to breathe before it decided what to do with me. I drove aimlessly for hours. No destination. Just headlights slicing through the dark while my thoughts dragged me through every mistake I'd made. Isla's confession kept replaying in my head, every word carving itself deeper. Richard. I could still hear her saying it, her voice shaking, her eyes full of regret that felt too convenient, too late. And now, the paternity test - a lie. A setup. A chain meant to keep me leashed to her. But that chain had snapped. And all I could think of was Elena. Her face when I told her the baby was mine. Her voice, trembling with hurt and fury. That slap - not just on my skin, but somewhere deeper. She'd closed the door, but the sound of it hadn't left my head since. I pulled over eventually, somewhere outside the city. The sky was still heavy wi

Elena's POVI wasn't supposed to be there.If I'd listened to myself, I would've stayed home, curled under a blanket with Netflix and the kind of snacks that fill the silence.But Leah had begged."It's just a small get-together," she'd said. "No drama, no tension, just food and music. You need to breathe again."So, I went.Big mistake.The restaurant was cozy, tucked in a corner of the city I'd almost forgotten existed - fairy lights strung across the ceiling, soft laughter blending with the hum of old jazz. For a second, I almost relaxed. Almost.Then I saw him.Damian.He was standing by the bar, talking to someone I didn't recognize, glass in hand, his shirt rolled to the elbows like it used to be when he was relaxed - or pretending to be.My stomach dropped.It was like the air thinned all at once.He looked... different. Not in the dramatic, movie way. Just quieter. Softer. Like he'd been through a storm and finally stopped fighting it. There were faint shadows under his eyes,

Elena's POV By the time I left the boardroom, I was smiling again - the polite, practiced kind. The kind that said I'm fine, even when I wasn't sure I knew what that meant anymore. The glass doors of Cross & Grant shut behind me with a soft hiss, sealing in the world I used to live for. Fresh logo, fresh air, fresh start - that's what everyone kept saying. And for the most part, it was true. Everything gleamed, from the silver handrails to the espresso machine that hummed in the corner of the new lobby. The building pulsed with a kind of life that used to thrill me. Now, it just... existed. Maybe that was growth - when the same fire that once burned you becomes nothing more than background warmth. I took the elevator down to the lower floor, heels clicking against the marble, and fished my phone from my pocket. Two messages from Lucas. Lucas: "Dinner still on for eight?" Lucas: "Don't forget to wear that green dress. The one that makes waiters lose their composure." I smil