Damian’s POV
The Fallout
The following morning, the boardroom was tense. You could almost hear the ticking of the antique wall clock louder than the actual breaths in the room. I sat at the head of the De-Rosie Industries table, my fingers steepled, my jaw clenched.
Outside these walls, the media had ignited like wildfire. Inside, vultures dressed in suits waiting for me to bleed.
"Is it true?" Mr. Langford, head of European Affairs, asked, with a low voice. "That the woman paraded all over the tabloids—pregnant, scandalized—is your wife?"
The words dropped like hammers. My pulse beat a little faster. The very mention of Camilla in that tone set my nerves on edge. I could still see her face the last night before she travelled back to Naples, pale from the chaos.
She had asked if I
