CHAPTER 4
1231 Words
HE FELT IT TOO LATE
The moment the elevator doors closed behind her, the office fell into a silence that felt unnatural, almost suffocating, as though something essential had just been removed without warning. Damian Hart remained standing behind his desk, his gaze fixed on the door long after Serena had disappeared, his mind replaying the last few minutes in a way he could not immediately explain. The room looked the same as it had before she walked in, yet something about it felt different now, subtly off, like a carefully balanced structure that had just shifted.
“You’ll regret this.”
He had said it without thinking, the words coming out with the same certainty he used for everything else in his life, but now, standing there alone, he found himself questioning why they had felt less like a warning and more like something else entirely.
“No… You will.”
Her voice echoed back in his mind, calm, steady, and completely unlike the woman he had expected to see today.
Damian finally moved, stepping forward slowly until he reached the desk, his eyes dropping to the documents she had signed so easily, far too easily, as though the marriage he had just ended meant nothing to her at all. The signature was clean, controlled, and without hesitation, and that alone unsettled him more than any argument or emotional reaction would have.
“Sir.”
Daniel’s voice came from the doorway, cautious but controlled, breaking through the silence just enough to bring Damian back to the present.
“The press is asking for a statement.”
Damian didn’t look up immediately, his attention still fixed on the papers in front of him.
“Handle it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Daniel hesitated for a brief moment, as though considering whether to say something else, before stepping further into the office.
“About Miss Vale…”
That made Damian look up.
“What about her?”
Daniel chose his words carefully, his expression neutral but observant.
“She left alone.”
A faint pause followed.
“And?”
“And there were reporters outside.”
Damian’s jaw tightened slightly, his gaze sharpening as the implication settled in.
“They approached her.”
For a moment, the room fell quiet again, but this time, the silence carried a different weight.
“Did she respond?”
“No, sir.”
Daniel’s answer came quickly.
“She left without saying anything.”
That should have been the end of it.
It should not have mattered.
And yet, something about that detail stayed with him longer than it should have, lingering in a way that made it difficult to ignore.
“Where did she go?”
The question slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
Daniel noticed.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
Another pause followed, longer this time, more deliberate, as though Damian was deciding whether the question itself had been unnecessary.
“Find out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Daniel nodded and turned to leave, but before he reached the door, Damian spoke again.
“Wait.”
Daniel stopped immediately.
“Check the cameras.”
A brief silence.
“Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
The door closed behind him, leaving Damian alone once more.
Downstairs, the crowd had already begun to disperse, but the aftermath was still evident in the scattered reporters and the lingering tension in the air. Within minutes, Daniel returned, a tablet in his hand, his expression more serious than before as he approached the desk.
“We pulled the footage.”
Damian didn’t sit.
“Show me.”
Daniel stepped forward and placed the tablet on the desk, turning the screen toward him before stepping back slightly.
The footage played without sound.
Serena walked out of the building, her posture straight, her expression unreadable, her movements controlled in a way that suggested far more composure than anyone in her position should have had. For a moment, nothing seemed unusual.
Then the car appeared.
A black car, sleek and deliberate, pulls up directly in front of her.
Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly.
The footage continued.
The window rolled down.
She hesitated.
Spoke.
Paused again.
And then, without resistance, she stepped forward and got in.
The video ended.
Silence followed.
“Do we have a plate number?”
“Yes.”
Daniel tapped the screen, bringing up another image.
The number appeared clearly.
Damian stared at it for a second before recognition hit.
Lucien Cross.
The realization settled heavily, sharper than expected, and something unfamiliar flickered briefly beneath his usual control.
“Why would she be with him?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Because the question itself was already enough.
Damian straightened slowly, his expression hardening as the situation began to rearrange itself in his mind, forming connections he did not like.
“Track that car.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Daniel.”
Daniel paused.
“Find out everything he’s done in the last forty-eight hours.”
A brief silence followed.
“Yes, sir.”
The hospital corridor was quiet, but not empty, and the moment Daniel stepped through the doors, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. He approached the reception desk with the same controlled confidence he carried into every situation, his tone calm but firm as he spoke.
“I’m looking for a patient.”
The receptionist glanced up.
“Name?”
“Serena Vale.”
A brief pause followed as she checked the system.
“I’m sorry, sir. That information is confidential.”
Daniel didn’t react.
Instead, he placed a card on the desk, sliding it forward just enough to make the name visible.
The effect was immediate.
“Please wait a moment.”
Back upstairs, Damian stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the city below, but his thoughts were elsewhere, moving through the situation piece by piece, analyzing, calculating, searching for something he could not yet define. Serena’s reaction had not been normal. Her calmness had not been expected. And now, knowing she had left with Lucien Cross of all people, something about the entire situation felt wrong in a way he could not ignore.
His phone rang.
He didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Yes.”
“Sir.”
Daniel’s voice came through, lower this time.
“She’s here.”
A brief silence followed.
“Where?”
“Private wing.”
Damian’s grip on the phone tightened slightly.
“Why?”
Another pause.
Then Daniel answered.
“She’s seeing a doctor.”
The words landed harder than expected.
For a moment, Damian didn’t speak.
Then, quietly:
“For what?”
Daniel hesitated.
And that hesitation was enough.
“Sir…”
“What is it?”
Another second passed.
Then:
“Pregnancy test.”
Everything stopped.
The city below blurred out of focus, the noise fading into something distant and irrelevant as the words settled in, heavier than anything else that had happened that day.
“Repeat that.”
“She’s here for a pregnancy test.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then, slowly, dangerously:
“Whose child?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Because he couldn’t.
And for the first time since Serena walked out of his office, Damian felt something he did not recognize immediately, something sharp and unfamiliar, something that settled deep in his chest and refused to move.
Not anger.
Not yet.
Something else.
Something worse.
- Writer
