Chapter 3
1584 Words
Ella POV:
The first hint of disaster hit me like a tidal wave. I was standing quietly in the background, trying to keep my nerves in check, when Ava decided to drop the bomb. She stood on the stage at the gala, surrounded by a sea of reporters, holding a child on her hip—dressed in a little navy-blue outfit, perfectly groomed for the cameras.
“And here he is!” Ava announced, lifting the toddler as if he were some kind of prize. “Meet Damien’s son—our heir!”
The crowd went wild. Reporters jostled for space, cameras flashed relentlessly, and microphones were shoved toward her as questions flew from every direction.
“Damien Sterling has a child?”
“When did this happen?”
“How old is the baby? Does this mean Damien and Ava are married?”
I watched Damien step forward, standing beside Ava with that signature calmness he wore like a mask. But I saw it—just for a second. Something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Shame? I wasn’t sure, but it was enough to make my stomach churn.
“We kept this private to protect my son from the press,” Damien said smoothly, as if he’d practiced the lie a hundred times. “We also had a small, intimate wedding. No media involvement.”
Wedding.
The word hit me like a slap across the face. I felt something crack inside me—a pain so deep it left me breathless.
Gasps echoed through the crowd, followed by murmurs swirling like a storm. Cameras clicked, capturing every second of my humiliation. Ava beamed, brushing a hand over Damien’s arm like she’d just won the grand prize.
“Yes,” she purred. “We wanted to enjoy life as a family before introducing our little boy to the world.”
A bold reporter tried to dig deeper. “What about Ella—your secretary? What was the—”
Before he could finish, Damien cut him off sharply. “That will be all,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He then led Ava and the boy away, dismissing the chaos behind them.
I stood frozen in place. Family. The word rang in my ears, loud and mocking. My legs wobbled, and I gripped the railing for support, willing myself to stay upright. But the press had already caught sight of me—like sharks drawn to blood in the water.
“Ella! Ella!” they shouted, swarming toward me.
“Are you still married to Damien?”
“Did you know about the child?”
“Why did Damien marry you if he was already with Ava?”
“Was your marriage just a cover-up?”
“How long have they been in love?”
Each question hit me like a dagger, slicing deeper than the last. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even breathe. The world tilted, and I stumbled, desperate to escape.
Suddenly, Richard appeared beside me—Damien’s uncle, moving swiftly to shield me from the chaos. He grabbed my arm—firm but gentle. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I let him guide me through the throng of reporters, his sharp warnings keeping the most aggressive ones at bay. My mind was numb, my body on autopilot. All I could feel was the dull, aching weight in my chest.
Richard opened the car door and helped me inside, slamming it shut just as the reporters caught up. “Drive!” he barked at the driver.
As the car sped away, I slumped against the seat, my breath shaky and uneven. The noise of the gala faded behind us, but the storm brewing inside me was just beginning.
“I don’t want to go home,” I whispered.
Richard gave me a puzzled look. “Why not?”
“I just… don’t want to.”
“You should,” he said gently. “Damien’s not stupid enough to bring Ava and the boy into the house without giving you some kind of explanation. You need answers, Ella.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t convinced. Damien didn’t owe me anything—not really. But I had to ask. I had to.
Richard led me to the part of the house that housed Damien’s parents, Philip and Eleanor Sterling.
Damien came home later that night, looking exhausted, as if the day had drained every ounce of life from him. The front door clicked softly behind him, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Philip sat stiffly on the couch, his expression carved from stone. Eleanor looked just as cold. Richard stood nearby, hands stuffed in his pockets, waiting.
Richard tried to break the tension. “So… where’s the baby mama and your heir?”
Before Damien could answer, Philip rose to his feet, his voice sharp and unforgiving. “What the hell is going on, Damien?”
Damien dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t know about the child, Father. Ava announced it without telling me.”
Philip’s eyes narrowed, his disgust palpable. “So you just stood there and played along? Let her make a fool of you in front of the whole world? What kind of disaster have you brought on this family?”
“I had no choice,” Damien bit out, frustration lacing his voice. “If I denied it, the press would’ve torn everything apart. I had to protect the company.”
“And you think the company isn’t at risk now?” Philip snapped. “The stock is already dropping. Not everyone bought your story, and soon they’ll start questioning whether you should remain CEO at all.”
Philip stepped closer, his voice low and cold. “If you care about the company, fix this mess before it destroys us. Do you understand?”
Damien clenched his jaw, nodding silently.
Philip shot him a look of pure disappointment. “You’ve embarrassed this family. Fix it.” He turned and walked upstairs, leaving Damien standing there, tension heavy in the air.
Richard gave Damien a weary look. “You shouldn’t have let it get this far.”
“I didn’t know it would get this far,” Damien muttered.
“So, where are they now?” Richard asked.
“I dropped them at her hotel,” Damien replied.
Eleanor’s voice cut through the silence. “What’s the boy’s name?”
“Alex,” Damien said quietly.
“And you’re sure he’s yours?” Eleanor pressed.
Damien ran a hand through his hair. “He has my eyes. Why would Ava lie about that?”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “Have you asked her why she hid him all this time?”
“No,” Damien admitted, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Richard said, patting Damien’s shoulder.
Eleanor smirked. “Divorce Ella quietly. Call it a loveless marriage of convenience. The press is already calling it that.”
Before anyone could respond, Philip’s voice echoed from the stairs. “No one is getting divorced.”
We all turned to see him standing there, his face stern. “The press is watching everything. You’ll act as if nothing’s changed. Do you understand?”
He looked at me. “Ella, ask Mrs. Lee to bring water to the library.”
I nodded and made the call without a word.
When I hung up, Richard leaned toward Damien. “Talk to Ava tomorrow. Get the answers you need.”
Damien gave a curt nod and walked upstairs without so much as a glance in my direction.
Later that night, I sat alone in the backyard, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. The silence between Damien and me was suffocating. He hadn’t said a single word to me since he got home.
Would he divorce me if his father hadn’t said otherwise? What happens now?
The thoughts gnawed at me until Eleanor’s voice shattered the quiet like a whip.
“I warned you, Ella,” she said, balancing herself on the couch.
I looked at her, my heart sinking at the cruel smirk on her face.
“I told you Damien would tire of you,” she sneered. “And now Ava’s back—with his son. The rightful heir to the Sterling name.”
I clenched my fists, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.
“You were never part of the plan,” she continued with malice. “Just a placeholder. And now, your time is up.”
Her words cut deep, but I refused to cry in front of her.
“Are you unable to sleep, ma?” I asked calmly.
She didn’t answer, only smirked as she left the room.
The next morning, just as I was about to leave for work, my phone rang—a call from my mother.
It had been a while since we last spoke.
“Hi, Mom?” No response.
“Hello?” Still nothing.
“Good morning, Mom. How are you?”
Then I heard a cracked voice on the other end.
“Who is this? And where is my mother?”
“This is NYU Hospital. I’m sorry to inform you, but your mother passed away this morning. She was rushed in, but we did everything we could…”
I couldn’t hear the rest. My world shattered.
My mother was gone.
And I broke into tears, wailing uncontrollably.
- Writer
