Chapter Two: A Past Unburied
1008 Words
My stomach dropped. The air in the room shifted like a storm about to break.
Damien didn’t move.
His jaw tensed. “What are you doing here, Elara?”
Elara.
Even her name sounded expensive.
She stood in the doorway like a queen returning to her throne. Her auburn hair was perfectly curled, her red lipstick bold, her dress hugging a figure that belonged on the cover of Vogue. And resting under her hand… a soft, visible curve beneath the silk.
Pregnant.
She walked with slow, deliberate grace, her heels tapping like gunshots on the marble floor.
“I see you’ve replaced me already.” Her eyes flicked to me—slow, assessing, cruel. “She’s cute, in a charity-case sort of way.”
I opened my mouth, unsure what to say, but Damien cut in with a voice sharp enough to slice glass.
“This is not your concern.”
“Not my concern?” she laughed, placing a manicured hand on her stomach. “I’m carrying your child, Damien.”
The silence that followed was so loud, it made my ears ring.
I looked at Damien, searching for anything in his expression—fear, denial, guilt—but he was unreadable. Cold marble, just like his penthouse.
“She’s lying,” he said eventually, his voice clipped.
“You really want to play that game?” Elara’s tone turned venomous. “You don’t return my calls, you skip appointments, and now I find you shacking up with some… contract bride? Is this your latest damage control strategy?”
My breath caught.
“Contract bride?” I repeated, my voice thin.
Elara’s smile curled like smoke. “Oh, honey. You didn’t think he picked you out of love, did you? You’re not the first girl he’s paid to wear a ring.”
I turned to Damien, heart pounding in my ears. “Is that true?”
“Liana,” he said quietly, “don’t listen to her. This isn’t the time—”
“No,” I cut in. “If there’s a woman standing here claiming to be pregnant with your child, and you’ve done this before—hired someone—you better make it the time.”
Elara watched, amused. “I love this. You really picked one with a backbone this time. Cute.”
“I told you not to come here,” Damien growled.
“And I told you this isn’t just your story anymore,” she snapped, cradling her bump. “This child—if it is yours—deserves answers. You think money erases everything?”
Damien’s face darkened.
I couldn’t tell if it was fury or fear.
“Elara and I were together years ago,” he said at last. “It ended. Badly. She’s manipulative, entitled, and thrives on chaos.”
“Oh, darling,” Elara crooned. “Don’t be so modest. We were engaged.”
The word hit me like a slap.
Engaged.
“You never mentioned an ex-fiancée,” I whispered.
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Damien muttered.
“Not relevant?” I laughed, breathless. “There’s a pregnant woman in your living room who was supposed to marry you, and you thought that wasn’t relevant?”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant,” he said. “I still don’t know if it’s mine.”
“That’s a hell of a gamble,” I muttered.
He ran a hand through his hair. “She came back out of nowhere. I didn’t expect her to pull this.”
“I’m not pulling anything,” Elara snapped. “You think I want to be here? I left for a reason, remember? You made it easy. You always put business first. You were cold. Detached. But I was stupid enough to fall in love anyway.”
Damien didn’t respond. That said more than words.
“And now?” she continued, softening her tone. “Now I’m carrying a life, Damien. And I deserve more than being brushed aside while you play house with some broke barista.”
I stepped forward. “Don’t talk about me like I’m furniture.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve got bite. You’ll need it.”
“Elara,” Damien snapped, “leave. Now.”
“I’ll leave,” she said, “but this isn’t over. If you don’t step up, I’ll go public. The press would love a scandal like this. Your precious company? Your spotless reputation? Gone.”
She turned to me, eyes softening just a little. “You seem like a nice girl. Don’t let him chew you up and spit you out.”
Then she walked out like she owned the building.
The elevator dinged softly as it closed behind her.
I stood there, numb.
Damien exhaled, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry.”
“Is she telling the truth?” I asked. “Is it your baby?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said, the words trembling but fierce. “You dragged me into this world with secrets and money and rules I don’t understand. You made me sign a contract. The least you can do is tell me the truth.”
His eyes met mine, stormy and raw. “I’m trying to protect you.”
I folded my arms. “Then stop hiding behind that excuse.”
Silence.
“I’ll demand a test,” he said finally. “If it’s mine, I’ll take responsibility. But I won’t let her ruin what we’ve built.”
I blinked. “What we’ve built? We’re strangers. We’re playing pretend in a penthouse with ghosts at the door.”
He stepped closer. “It doesn’t feel pretend when I look at you.”
My breath hitched.
For a second, I saw something beneath his mask. Something fragile. Human.
But the moment passed.
And all I could think about was the baby. The ring on my finger. The contract I signed without reading the fine print.
I was in way over my head.
- Writer
