CHAPTER 11:

Damian walked into his office and found Chloe frozen at his desk, the new custody papers clutched in her hands. Her face had gone completely white.

“You said you burned the old one,” she accused, voice cracking as she thrust the documents toward him. “This is worse. Supervised visits? I forfeit everything if I fight? What the hell, Damian?”

He took the pages from her, scanning them fast. The language was colder, the terms tighter. “I did burn it. That night in front of you. This is new, Someone swapped it. They’re still inside our space.”

Chloe stepped back, arms crossing over her belly. “Convenient, Every time I start to believe you, another knife appears.”

“I’m not doing this.” He dropped the papers on the desk like they burned him. “We’re leaving. Private doctor, my personal guy. No clinic records, no shared systems. Grab your bag.”

She didn’t argue. Twenty minutes later they sat in the back of the armored town car, heading across town. Damian kept checking his phon. stock prices already dipping on the latest wave of headlines.

His publicist called. “Vanessa’s leaking again. Stories saying she’s the real mother, that Chloe trapped you. It’s everywhere.”

“Deny it,” Damian snapped. “Full statement. The twins are mine and Chloe’s. Vanessa has no claim.” He hung up and rubbed his temple. The numbers on his trading app kept sliding.

Chloe watched him from the other side of the seat. “Is the company suffering because of me?”

“It’s noise,” he said, but his jaw stayed tight.

She shifted, turning more toward him. Her voice came out soft. “Did you ever really want me in their lives? Not just as the carrier. Actually in their lives.”

Damian met her eyes. The car hummed around them. For once he didn’t calculate the answer. “At the start? No. I wanted an heir and control. Clean and simple. Then I met you. Watched you fight for them every single day. Now I can’t imagine it any other way. You’re their mother. I want you there.”

Chloe’s fingers tightened on the seat edge. She looked down at her belly but didn’t pull away.

They reached the private practice. The doctor ran fresh, isolated scans and bloodwork while Damian stood guard outside the room. Everything came back stable for the moment, but the doctor wanted daily checks.

On the ride back to the penthouse, Damian’s security chief called. “Sir, we caught someone. Woman trying to access the private elevator. Matches the description of the one who tampered with the clinic files. She’s detained downstairs.”

Damian’s hand clenched around the phone. Chloe looked over at him sharply.

*********

Chloe stood in the penthouse doorway, arms wrapped around her belly as she watched Damian tower over the detained woman in the living room. Two security guards flanked her, the intruder’s wrists zip-tied in front of her.

“Who sent you?” Damian demanded, voice like ice. “The clinic files. The medication. Talk.”

The woman kept her mouth shut, eyes darting around the room. She finally smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Mrs. King’s orders are clear. This ends one way or another.”

Chloe’s fear flipped straight into anger. She stepped fully into the room, shoulders squared. “Mrs. King? His mother? Say it louder. I want to hear you admit it.”

The woman clamped her lips tighter and looked away. Security dragged her out for further questioning. Chloe stayed rooted, fists clenched at her sides.

Damian turned to her. “She won’t give more yet. But we have her. This is progress.”

“Progress?” Chloe followed him into the kitchen, pulse still pounding. “Your mother is trying to kill one of our babies and you call it progress? I’m done waiting for you to handle this.”

He poured water and slid the glass toward her. “Which is why we make the marriage official. Soon. Legal protection for you and the twins. Custody locked down. No more loopholes for her or Marcus.”

Chloe pushed the glass away. “I never wanted any husband. Fake or real. I signed up to carry the babies and co-parent. Not tie myself to you legally while your family keeps attacking us.”

“You think I wanted this either?” Damian shot back, leaning across the island. “But the papers they swapped prove someone inside is still working against us. Marriage gives you rights. Power in court. We do this or they keep coming.”

She gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. “And what happens after the year? You get your image fixed and I get discarded again? I’ve spent my whole life proving I don’t need a man to have a family. Now you want me to sign my independence away because your mother is a monster?”

Damian exhaled hard and came around the island. He stopped a few feet away. “My family taught me love is a weakness. Something to exploit or hide. My father drilled it into me. My mother still uses it. I believed it until you started fighting me on everything. Until I saw how you protect those babies with your whole body every single day.”

Chloe’s grip loosened slightly. She looked at him—really looked. The exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders carried too much. “My exes told me I was too much. Too big, too loud about wanting kids without a ring. They laughed. So I stopped trusting anyone to stay.”

They stood there, the silence thick but different. Not quite broken, but cracked open.

Damian’s phone buzzed on the counter. He ignored it at first, then glanced down. His face changed. “My mother is downstairs. She wants to speak to you. Alone.”

The elevator dinged before Chloe could respond. The doors opened and Mrs. King stepped into the penthouse like she owned it, designer coat draped over her arm.

“Chloe,” she said, voice smooth as glass.

“A word, Privately.”