Chapter 3 3

Alexander Group Headquarters

Damian Alexander, the mighty owner of the towering Alexander Group building, stepped out of the elevator with a storm cloud on his face. It was as if thunderheads were rolling above his head, ready to strike down anyone foolish enough to get too close.

Right behind him, as always, was Assistant Brown. Calm. Expressionless. Not a single wrinkle of worry on his face-though in truth, his mind was juggling a dozen problems at once.

As they neared the president's office, Brown lengthened his stride. The secretary staff rose from their desks, bowing respectfully. Brown swung the door open, and Damian swept inside with a scowl that could curdle milk. The staff sat back down immediately, their hands flying across keyboards with the determination of soldiers marching into battle.

Inside the office, Damian stopped cold. He turned sharply, eyes blazing, and pinned Brown with a glare hot enough to set the carpet on fire.

"You heard what he said."

Damian strode forward two steps, then suddenly grabbed the front of Brown's suit jacket. His voice thundered.

"He said my child wants revenge. Revenge-for what, huh? You know how much I love Livia. I love her, and I would do anything for her!"

It was the longest speech Brown had ever heard his boss deliver in one breath. When it was over, Damian released him with a sharp exhale, even patting his assistant's shoulder as if that made up for nearly strangling him.

"Tell me, Brown. Do you think Livia's cravings are really... revenge? From my own child?"

Brown said nothing. He knew better. At times like this, silence was safer than honesty.

But Damian wasn't done. He stormed back to the hospital-again-demanding the doctors explain his wife's pregnancy cravings one more time, this time with a different answer. Something that would soothe his restless heart.

Instead, all he got was the same nonsense dressed up in different words. Again and again, they circled back to the same idea: cravings were normal, cravings were harmless. But Damian didn't want normal. He wanted certainty. He wanted proof his unborn child wasn't plotting against him.

Damian wanted east. The doctors kept marching him west.

"Brown," Damian growled back in his office, "do you believe what they're saying too?"

His tone was so sharp it warned Brown that one wrong word would cost him his head.

"No, Young Master," Brown replied smoothly, voice low and steady. He stepped closer to the sofa and gestured politely. "Please, sit down. Calm yourself first."

Damian obeyed, shoulders sagging as he yanked at his tie. He collapsed onto the couch, the words of Dr. Harris still ringing in his ears like an annoying mosquito buzz he couldn't swat away.

"I would never think that way," Brown added firmly. "I know how much you love Miss Livia."

The words struck a chord, soothing Damian for a moment.

'I love Livia. I love her more than anything. My child must be able to feel it too... right?'

Then Damian groaned, clutching his head like a sulking teenager.

"I'm going to lose my mind if I can't hold her when I sleep!"

***