CHAPTER 13:

Damian hung up on Vanessa and tossed the phone onto the table. “She claims she has DNA proof the twins are hers. She’s on her way here now. I told her to come so we end this face to face.”

Chloe pushed back from the table, one hand on her belly. “Good. Let her say it to both of us.”

They waited in the living room, tension thick enough to choke on. Security buzzed the door minutes later. Vanessa stormed in, heels stabbing the floor, a folder clutched in her manicured hand.

“You,” she spat at Chloe. “Stealing my life, My fiancé, My future, Those babies are mine. I have the results right here proving it.”

Damian stepped between them. “Enough. You walked out. Publicly. You’re not carrying anything of mine and you know it.”

Vanessa ignored him, eyes locked on Chloe. “You think you fit in his world? Look at you. The plus-size replacement who spread her legs for money. I built a life with him, You’re just the help who got knocked up.”

Chloe’s hand spread wider over her stomach. She lifted her chin. “These are my babies. I carry them. I fight for them every single day while you run around lying. Get out of my home.”

“Your home?” Vanessa laughed, sharp and ugly. “This penthouse was supposed to be mine. You’re temporary. Always were.”

Damian moved closer to Chloe, his shoulder brushing hers. “She’s not temporary. Chloe is the mother of my children. She stays. You don’t. I choose her. Right here. In front of you. We’re done, Vanessa. Leave and don’t come back.”

Vanessa’s face twisted. She hurled the folder at the floor, papers scattering. “You’ll regret this.” She spun on her heel and slammed the door behind her.

The silence that followed felt heavy. Chloe turned to him, shoulders dropping a fraction. “Thank you. For saying that in front of her.”

Damian looked down at her. The words sat there between them. He lifted his hand slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She didn’t pull away. Their eyes locked. He leaned in, breath catching, lips inches from hers. She tilted her head up just slightly, the space closing.

His phone rang on the table, shrill in the quiet. Damian cursed and answered it on speaker, the doctor’s voice filling the room.

“Mr. King, good news and concerning news. Twin B’s condition has suddenly stabilized overnight. The heartbeat is stronger. But the new tests still show traces of the medication in Chloe’s system. It hasn’t cleared. The saboteur is still active.”

Chloe’s hand found Damian’s arm and gripped tight as they stared at the phone.

****

Chloe tugged at the side of the deep emerald gown as she stepped into the crowded charity gala ballroom, the fabric stretching across her belly and hips. Cameras flashed immediately, voices murmuring louder. This was her first public event as Damian’s official fiancée and every eye felt like a spotlight she didn’t want.

Damian kept his hand at the small of her back, steady and warm through the silk. “Stay close,” he murmured. “We smile, we shake a few hands, we leave.”

A reporter shoved a microphone forward before they made it ten feet. “Chloe, how does it feel being the plus-size surrogate turned fiancée? Quite the upgrade story!”

Damian’s fingers pressed firmer against her back. “Watch your tone. Chloe is my fiancée and the mother of my children. Next question.”

Chloe forced a tight smile and kept walking, but the words stuck. She scanned the room, catching clusters of guests in designer dresses that looked painted on. One older couple near the bar leaned in together, not bothering to lower their voices.

“Plus-size surrogate. Can you imagine? Damian must be desperate after Vanessa.”

Chloe’s steps faltered. She gripped Damian’s arm tighter, nails digging into the sleeve of his tux. “Did you hear that? They’re all thinking it. I don’t belong here in this dress, pretending to be your equal.”

He steered her toward a quieter corner, jaw set. “They don’t matter. You do.”

The rest of the night blurred—small talk, photos, more flashing lights. Chloe smiled until her cheeks hurt, one hand often drifting to her belly like a shield. Damian stayed glued to her side, shutting down every rude comment with a cold stare or sharp word.

In the back of the town car on the way home, the city lights streaked past. Chloe kicked off her heels and rubbed her swollen feet, the dress now feeling like a costume she couldn’t wait to burn.

Damian watched her for a long moment. “You looked beautiful tonight. Exactly as you are. The dress, the way you carried yourself, everything. Don’t let them make you doubt that.”

Chloe met his eyes across the seat. Something warm unfolded in her chest. She opened her mouth to answer when the car pulled up to the penthouse.

They stepped inside and Damian checked his phone immediately. His face changed. “The ideal type folder. It’s leaked. Online. With edited photos.”

Chloe moved to his side and looked at the screen. There it was—Damian’s old private folder splashed across gossip sites. Side-by-side images. Vanessa’s tall, slim figure next to manipulated versions of her own photos, arrows pointing out every curve and difference. Headlines screamed "King’s Real Type Exposed Why the Plus-Size Surrogate Will Never Measure Up."

Her stomach twisted. She stared at the comparisons, the cruel edits making her look even larger next to Vanessa’s perfect image.

“Was this always how you saw me?”