Chapter 5 First sigh

The elevator chimed softly as it arrived on the top floor of the private medical building. Elena clutched her purse tighter, The polished chrome doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a pristine hallway bathed in gentle, bright lighting. She hesitated.

"Relax," Damian said beside her, his voice low,

She glanced up at him. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one about to be poked and scanned like a lab rat."

He gave her a look flat, but not unkind. "I'll be right there the whole time."

Somehow, that didn't comfort her as much as it should have. He was a fortress controlled, composed, unreadable. But she wasn't sure if his presence was a balm or just another reminder of how complicated everything had become.

The receptionist looked up as they entered and smiled brightly. "Mr. Lancaster, Ms. Ramirez. Right this way."

Of course. Everyone knew him. Billionaire Damian Lancaster didn't blend in anywhere. Even here, in a place meant for privacy, people moved for him like he was royalty.

They were ushered into a private suite nothing like the cramped clinics Elena was used to. The room had sleek furnishings, warm lighting, and even a tray of bottled water that looked imported. Everything was quiet, expensive, sterile.

"This feels more like a spa," she muttered.

Damian sat beside her on the velvet chair, silent but watchful. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his thigh,too casual. She could tell his mind was spinning. Not just about the baby but about her. About whether this was all real. Whether she was real.

Before she could say anything, a nurse stepped in. "We're ready for the scan."

Elena's breath caught.

It was really happening.

She lay back on the exam table, the paper beneath her crinkling. Her hands gripped the sides of the table, her pulse racing. The technician smiled kindly as she rolled the cart closer and turned on the monitor.

"This might feel cold," she warned, squeezing gel onto Elena's belly.

Damian stood at her side, arms crossed, jaw tight. His stance screamed tension, even as he tried to look composed.

And then

A soft, steady sound filled the room

Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Elena froze.

The baby's heartbeat.

She blinked rapidly, her throat tightening as sudden tears threatened. Her eyes went to the screen, and she saw the child growing inside of her

"That's it," the technician said, smiling. "That's your baby."

Damian's gaze was locked on the monitor. His expression didn't shift, but something in his posture changed. His hand moved tentative, unsure and settled gently on her shoulder.

Warm. Grounding.

She didn't move. Couldn't. Her heart was a mess of emotion and disbelief.

"Heartbeat is strong," the technician added. "Everything looks healthy so far."

When it was over, the room felt impossibly still. The screen dimmed. The heartbeat faded from the speakers, but its echo remained in Elena's chest.

She turned her head, looking up at Damian.

His eyes met hers.

For the first time, she saw something crack through his armor something soft. Uncertain. Real.

"That's real," he murmured.

Back at the penthouse, Elena paced her bedroom, one hand pressed over her belly. She couldn't stop replaying the sound in her mind. The heartbeat. Their baby's heartbeat.

Damian had dropped her off without a word beyond a clipped, "I have a meeting." But she'd seen it. The shift in his eyes. The subtle awe. The fear.

He was trying. Even if he didn't know how.

She glanced at the silver pendant resting on her nightstand a gift from her mother before she passed. The charm was shaped like a heartbeat line. A symbol of life. A reminder that even in the chaos, there was something worth holding on to.

Something was changing between them. Slowly. Carefully.

And she wasn't sure whether to trust it... or trust him.

That evening, the scent of garlic and basil filled the penthouse as Elena stirred a pot of pasta in the kitchen. Cooking calmed her nerves. Made her feel like she had control of something anything.

Damian walked in, loosening his tie. He paused in the doorway, raising a brow.

"You're cooking?"

She looked up, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Shocking, I know. Pregnant woman eats carbs."

A flicker of a smile touched his lips. "You didn't have to. There's a chef."

She shrugged, stirring the sauce again. "I wanted to. It helps me relieve of thinking

He moved closer, his voice softer. "What are you thinking about?"

She hesitated. "Today. The baby. You."

"Me?"

She turned to face him. "I saw your face, Damian. In that room. You felt something."

He didn't deny it.

"I didn't expect it to hit me like that," he admitted, voice low. "I thought... this would feel like a business arrangement. A deal."

She laughed, dry. "Yeah, well, babies don't do contracts."

He leaned against the counter. "I want to be involved, Elena. Not just writing checks. I don't know what that looks like, but... I want to try."

Her heart fluttered.

"Even if I don't want anything from you?" she asked quietly.

He tilted his head. "You want something. You just don't want to admit it."

She looked away. "I want safety," she said softly. "I want peace. For this baby. For me."

Silence stretched between them.

"You'll have it," he said finally. "I promise."

Later, they sat across from each other in the formal dining room, eating in a fragile quiet. It wasn't awkward but it wasn't easy either. The air between them was shifting. Thawing.

After dinner, Damian rose from his seat. "There's something I want to show you."

She followed him through the penthouse, all the way to the far end of the hall. He opened the last door on the right.

It was empty.

Bright walls. Hardwood floors. Big windows.

A blank canvas.

"I was thinking this could be the nursery," he said.

Elena stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat. The space felt unreal.

"You want to decorate it together?" she asked.

"I figured you'd have better taste than me," he said with a slight smirk. "But yes. Together."

She turned to him. "Why are you doing this?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Because this baby deserves more than enemies and shadows."

So did she.

That night, Elena lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her heart a tangled knot of hope and fear. Damian had shown her a side she hadn't expected.

He cared.

Maybe not perfectly. But genuinely.

Could she trust him with her heart?

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the tall windows. She blinked, sitting up, and spotted a small envelope on her nightstand.

Inside was a card.

A printed ultrasound image. A calendar reminder for their next appointment. A handwritten note: I ordered a firmer mattress. You shouldn't have to wake up sore.

She smiled, warmth creeping into her chest.

Maybe... just maybe... this wasn't a mistake.

But just as the hope bloomed-

Her phone buzzed.

A single text.

Unknown Number: He's using you, Elena. Just like your father did. Be careful.

Her blood ran cold.

Her fingers trembled as she stared at the screen.

Someone was watching.

And they knew more than they should.