CHAPTER 10: LEAVE THE KING

Damian paced the penthouse living room at 2 a.m., phone gripped tight in one hand as he stared at Chloe’s threatening text again.

The words burned into his eyes: "Leave the Kings or the babies won’t make it."

He hit dial on his head of security. “Double the team. Four more men on the penthouse, two permanent at the bakery. Find who sent that message. Now. Trace the number, IP, everything.”

“Working on it, sir,” the man replied. “It’s routed through burners. Give me an hour.”

Chloe appeared in the hallway entrance, pale in her oversized sleep shirt, both hands cradling her belly. “What’s going on? I heard you on the phone.”

Damian turned the screen toward her. “New text, Same threats. I’m not waiting around anymore.”

She read it, then looked up at him, arms tightening around her middle. “And you weren’t going to wake me? What else are you hiding?”

He pulled up the partial report from his investigator and handed her the phone. “More payments traced to my mother’s private accounts. Clinic donations, anonymous tips to tabloids. She’s still in this.”

Chloe scrolled through the documents, her face hardening. “I’m going to the bakery in the morning. I need to be there. My staff is scared, orders are piling up.”

“Absolutely not,” Damian said. “It’s too dangerous right now. Stay here where I can protect you.”

She handed the phone back, chin lifted. “This is still my life, Damian. My business. I built it before you and I’ll keep it running with or without your permission. You can add security, but you don’t get to lock me away.”

He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. The determination in her stance made him pause. “Fine. But you take the full team. No exceptions.”

Chloe nodded once and headed toward the kitchen. A few minutes later the lights clicked on and the familiar clatter of bowls started. Damian stayed in the doorway, watching her move around the island despite the late hour. She measured ingredients with steady hands, kneading dough like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Strong. Unyielding even when everything around her tried to break.

Something inside his chest loosened as he watched her. *She keeps fighting when most people would have run.*

He stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. “You don’t have to do this tonight.”

“I do,” she said without looking up. “Baking keeps me sane.”

His phone rang, cutting through the quiet. His mother’s name flashed on the screen. Damian answered on speaker so Chloe could hear.

“What do you want?”

“Darling, I can fix everything,” his mother said smoothly. “The scandals, the medical issues, the board pressure. Just send that girl away. End this nonsense and come back to the family plan. Vanessa is still willing.”

Damian’s grip tightened on the phone as Chloe froze mid-knead across from him.

********

Chloe wiped down the bakery counter for the third time, eyes scanning the morning crowd while her skin prickled like someone watched her every move. The gossip hit her in waves from the tables near the window.

“Did you see the latest? She’s trapping him with twins. Bold move for a plus-size girl like that.”

She gripped the rag tighter and kept her head down, focusing on the next order ticket. Her back ached from the extra weight, but she needed this—normal hands in dough, the smell of fresh bread cutting through the fear.

The bell over the door chimed. Damian walked in, suit jacket already off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He didn’t ask permission. He just stepped behind the counter like he belonged there.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asked, voice low.

“Helping.” He grabbed an apron from the hook and tied it on. “Show me what to do.”

She stared at him for a second, then handed him a tray of muffin batter. “Fill those. Even scoops. Don’t overmix.”

They worked side by side in the tight space. His shoulder brushed hers as he reached for the scoop. Customers stared, phones coming out, but for once the whispers felt slightly less sharp.

A delivery driver stepped through the back door ten minutes later, clipboard in hand. “Sorry, Ms. Bennett. Order’s canceled. New ownership at the supplier. They’re prioritizing bigger accounts.”

Chloe’s hands stopped on the register. “That was our flour for the weekend wedding cake order. Three hundred cupcakes plus the main tier. You can’t just—”

“Already done,” the driver said with a shrug. “Call corporate if you want.” He left the clipboard on the counter and walked out.

Marcus. It had to be. Chloe felt the floor tilt under her. She turned and pushed into the stockroom, the door swinging shut behind her. Her legs gave out and she slid down against the shelves, arms wrapping around her belly as her shoulders shook hard.

The door opened again. Damian stepped in and closed it quietly. He crouched in front of her, then sat right on the floor and pulled her into his chest without asking. His arms came around her—solid, careful around her bump. Their first real hug.

“I won’t let them destroy what you built,” he murmured against her hair. His hand rubbed slow circles on her upper back. “We’ll find another supplier. Today.”

Chloe leaned into him for a long moment. His warmth cut through the panic. She felt safe. Really safe. Then the fear rushed back in and she pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Don’t. I can’t do this yet. Not when everything keeps trying to take the twins from me.”

Damian nodded but stayed close on the floor. “I know.”

They finished the morning rush together in heavy silence. Back at the penthouse that evening, Chloe kicked off her shoes the second they walked in. Damian headed to his office to make supplier calls while she went to change.

She came out twenty minutes later and found him standing at his desk, staring down at papers. The old contract addendum folder lay open—but the pages inside looked different. Thicker. New clauses.

Chloe stepped closer and read the top sheet. Her stomach dropped. Harsher custody terms. Full rights to Damian. Her access reduced to supervised visits only. The temporary marriage now tied to permanent forfeiture if she fought it.

She looked up at him, voice shaking.

. “You said you burned the old one.”