2026-02-16 05:17:46
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Chapter Nineteen
George stared at the vibrating phone in his trembling hand as though it were alive, as though it carried within it the power to shatter whatever fragile stability remained in the room. The faint buzzing sound felt grotesquely loud in the heavy silence, crawling beneath Damian’s skin and settling deep in his chest like a premonition. Damian did not blink. His body was rigid, every muscle drawn tight as a bowstring. “Answer it,” he said quietly. The softness of his tone made it more terrifying than any shout could have. It was the voice of a man who was already standing at the edge of something irreversible. George swallowed and lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes?” His voice cracked despite his attempt to steady it. Damian watched him closely. He saw the change immediately—the subtle widening of George’s eyes, the way his lips parted slightly as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. A thin sheen of sweat formed along his temple. “No… that cannot be correct,” George whispered.
Chapter Eighteen
“Your Grace,” George began, his voice low, hesitant, as though each word cost him a lifetime of courage. He lowered his head, careful to maintain the respect that had been drilled into him since boyhood. The room felt impossibly quiet, the air thick and suffocating, yet every nerve in Damian’s body bristled, waiting for whatever revelation was coming. Damian’s expression darkened, a storm simmering behind eyes that had seen far too much. He didn’t speak, didn’t move. He simply let George continue, as if the silence itself might force the truth out faster. “It began years ago,” George said, his tone trembling slightly despite his effort to steady it. “Long before you even knew who you were.” Damian’s fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into the skin. “Then speak clearly,” he commanded, voice sharp, icy. “No more riddles.” George inhaled slowly, fighting against the tightness in his chest. “It began with the Duke,” he said finally, eyes dropping to the floor. “With secr
Chapter Seventeen
Damian walked back to the carriage as though the ground itself had offended him. Each step was sharp and deliberate, his boots striking the stone path with restrained force. His jaw was clenched so tightly that a dull ache throbbed along the hinge, but he welcomed the pain. It gave him something solid to focus on—something simpler than the fury simmering beneath his composed exterior. He did not look at anyone as he approached the carriage. “This time,” he said coldly to one of the drivers, “you will take me home.” The driver bowed quickly, sensing the tension in the air, and hurried to obey. Damian stepped inside the carriage without assistance, the door closing behind him with a heavy, echoing thud that seemed louder than it should have been. It sounded final. Sealed. George followed him in quietly, settling across from him. The carriage began to move, the wheels rolling over gravel with a steady rhythm that felt almost mocking in its calmness. Inside, the atmosphere was t
Chapter Sixteen
The first bite nearly undid him. Damian had expected pleasure, perhaps even relief—but he had not expected the sharp sting behind his eyes as flavor burst across his tongue. The roasted meat was tender, seasoned with herbs he could not name but instantly loved. The bread was warm, soft in the center with a crisp crust that crackled faintly as he tore it apart. Even the butter melted smoothly, rich and golden. For a suspended second, he simply sat there, chewing slowly, afraid that if he moved too quickly the illusion would shatter. Across the table, George remained standing, hands folded neatly behind his back. The staff moved in silence, efficient and precise. Yet Damian could feel it—every eye in the room subtly attuned to him. Watching. Measuring. Ensuring. He swallowed. “You are all staring at me,” he said quietly. The nearest servant stiffened. George answered calmly, “It is our duty to ensure Your Grace is satisfied.” Satisfied. The word felt strange. Heavy. Dangerous.
Chapter Fifteen
“I… I am pregnant,” Vanessa finally blurted out, her voice shaking slightly, betraying the mix of excitement and nervousness that swirled inside her. She watched Martins carefully, hoping to catch even a flicker of surprise or joy, but his face remained unreadable for a moment. Martins froze, blinking as if her words had stunned him. For a second, it looked like he might not have heard her at all. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again, and he just sat there, his expression blank. Vanessa felt a pang of unease twist in her chest. She had imagined this moment so many times—her revealing the news, his reaction overflowing with joy, maybe even disbelief, maybe a laugh, maybe a hug. But instead, there was nothing. “Mart… are you there?” she asked gently, leaning forward just a little, her voice careful but tinged with worry. “I said I’m pregnant. Did you hear me?” “Oh… of course. Congratulations,” he said quietly, offering her a small, strained smile that didn’t quite reach his
Chapter Fourteen
Vanessa was home that day, a rare day off from the endless swirl of her responsibilities, and she had decided it would be spent entirely with Martins. The morning sun had barely reached the corners of the apartment when they found themselves laughing over breakfast, the clink of dishes and the scent of coffee filling the air. For once, it felt like life had paused just for them, giving them a space untouched by obligations, by threats, by the constant weight of the past. Vanessa’s mind, however, was restless. She had news—news she had been holding onto for what felt like an eternity. “Martins… my love,” she began softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, “I’ve been thinking… I already served that low-life the papers in prison. I… I am officially done with him.” Martins’ face brightened immediately, a wide grin breaking across his features. Relief, joy, and something tender flashed in his eyes. “Aww, Vanessa… so we can finally start our lives together?” he asked, the
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