Chapter 10 The Bombshell

"Why didn't you tell me that you were going out tonight?"

Damien's voice was calm as he stepped into the penthouse living room. Ava, wearing her heels and the deep green dress she had chosen for the charity gala, froze halfway to the kitchen. Six months had passed since that night. The night that they f*cked themselves passionately. They have chosen to forget that night. After all, they had crossed a line neither of them could take back, and yet some things never changed about Damien. His watchfulness and his intensity hadn't changed.

"I told your assistant," Ava replied, setting her clutch on the marble counter.

Damien's brow arched, looking at her intensely. "And since when does my assistant decide what I should and shouldn't know?"

She turned to face him fully, refusing to flinch under his gaze. "It is just a charity dinner, Damien. Not a clandestine meeting in a back alley."

"That depends on who you were seated next to." His tone was sharper now.

Ava sighed, pulling the pins from her hair so it tumbled over her shoulders. "Do you really think I am sneaking around behind your back after all this time?"

The unspoken words hung in the air: After everything we've been through.

It was true. The past six months had changed things between them.Their relationship was still far from perfect. Damien remained as controlling and infuriating as ever, but there were moments now when he let his guard down with her. She had caught him watching her with something like longing in his eyes. He'd taken her to Paris for a weekend, surprising her with a rooftop dinner overlooking the Seine. He had even laughed with her, genuinely, on lazy Sunday mornings when they stayed in bed too long.

But he still kept parts of himself locked away from her. He didn't want to open himself to Ava completely. His world remains a puzzle she couldn't solve.

Damien stepped closer, his presence filling the space. "You look very beautiful tonight," he said quietly, and it was almost enough to make her forget the argument starting up before..

"Thank you," she replied, softer now.

He studied her for a moment longer, then took the champagne flute from her hand and kept it aside. "Come with me."

"Where are you taking me to?"

"Just come, will ya?"

He led her to the balcony, where the city skyline glittered beneath the moonlight. The air carried the faint scent of rain. Damien leaned against the railing, his eyes now on her rather than the view.

"I've been thinking for quite some time," he said finally.

"That sounds dangerous," she teased, but her voice carried a nervous edge.

"I've been thinking," he repeated, ignoring her jab, "about how much has changed since you came into my life."

Her heart skipped. "Changed... I don't understand?"

"I didn't plan for any of this," he admitted . "You were supposed to be a temporary arrangement, just a one-year contract bride." His jaw tightened, as if the word tasted bitter now. "But I don't think you're not temporary anymore."

Ava was surprised. It was the closest he had come to confessing anything that resembled feelings. Before she could respond, his phone rang in his pocket. His expression darkened when he saw the name on the screen, and without a word, he stepped back inside to take the call.

Ava stayed outside while he answered his call. Her mind was spinning. Six months ago, she would have given anything to hear him say she mattered. Now, with the secret she was carrying, she wasn't sure how to feel anymore.

The truth had hit her two weeks ago, in a sterile white doctor's office: she was two months pregnant. And the more days passed, the heavier the secret felt. She couldn't bring herself to tell him. She'd tried to find the right moment to tell him, but there never seemed to be one. Damien had been under more pressure lately-tense phone calls, sudden late-night meetings, cryptic comments about "deals" and "risks".

And now, standing on that balcony with Damien, she realized there would never be a perfect moment.

Damien returned ten minutes later after answering his call; his mood was unreadable. He poured himself a drink, downed it in one swallow, and sank into the armchair across from her.

"You have been distracted lately," he said.

She blinked. "I could say the same about you."

"Business," he replied shortly. "There is nothing you need to worry about."

"That's the problem, Damien. You never tell me anything bothering you."

His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and commanding. "Careful."

She stood, pacing the room. "Careful? I've been careful for months, walking around like I'm tiptoeing through a minefield in this relationship. And as for you-" She stopped herself, pressing a hand to her forehead hard.

He set his glass down and rose, crossing to her in three long strides. "And I what?"

"You push me away one moment and pull me close the next. I don't know where I stand with you anymore or where I belong. I don't even know how you see me anymore."

"You stand exactly where I put you," he said in a low but charged voice.

Something inside her snapped. "That's not good enough, Damien. Not anymore."

For a long moment, they stood inches apart. The atmosphere around them became quiet. And then Damien did what he always did when the conversation veered too close to vulnerability-he kissed her.

It wasn't soft. It was claiming and consuming. The kind of kiss that erased thought in a second. Her hands gripped his shirt as if holding on would keep her from falling down.

When they broke apart, both breathless, Damien rested his forehead against hers. "You make me lose control," he murmured.

Ava's chest ached. She knew this was her moment-before the fear returned, before he built his walls back up.

"Damien..." Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. "There is something I have been meaning to tell you."

He pulled back slightly, frowning. "What is it?"

Her fingers twisted together, her throat dry. "I'm two months pregnant."

The silence that followed was deafening. Damien's expression froze. He was so shocked, but something darker and sharper filled his heart and mind upon hearing those words.

Then he spoke, his voice so calm that it chilled her to the bone.

"Whose is it?"