Pregnant with the Wrong Man’s Child
And then, suddenly, an arm slid around my waist, pulling me against a wall of unshakable strength.
I froze.
It was Damian’s.
He held me close, his expression unreadable as he turned to face the sea of cameras. The crowd hushed for a moment, sensing the gravity that seemed to follow him like a shadow.
“She is not Adrian’s anything,” Damian said, his voice carrying like thunder, smooth and commanding. “She is my future wife. And she carries my heir.”
The world went still.
The reporters gasped, then exploded into chaos, voices overlapping, flashes blinding.
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