The Enemy's Heir : His Secret Baby

CHAPTER 6 : MONTHS LATER

The rain hit the windows of the little cafe like bullets.

Chicago in November was already cruel. But tonight it felt personal.

Naya Morelli wiped down the last table at Sophia’s Corner. Her hands were steady. They had to be.

It was 1:57AM.

8 months. 8 months since she ran. 8 months since two pink lines changed her entire life. 8 months of no Adrian. No Voss. No war.

Just her. And Leo.

She pressed a hand to her swollen belly. 34 weeks. The baby kicked hard, like he knew something she didn’t.

“Go home, Naya,” Sophia said from behind the counter. She was counting the register, but her eyes kept flicking to the door. “It’s late. You need sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Naya said. Same lie she’d been telling for months. “Just 10 more minutes.”

Sophia didn’t argue. She knew better now. Naya wasn’t the soft mafia princess anymore. Motherhood had carved something sharp into her.

The bell above the door dinged.

Naya’s head snapped up.

No one came in at 2AM. Not in this neighborhood.

A man stood in the doorway.

Rain dripped from his black coat onto the floor. Water pooled around his boots. His face was in shadow, but Naya would know that silhouette anywhere.

6’3. Broad shoulders. The way he stood like he owned the air in the room.

Her blood turned to ice.

“Close the shop,” he said. His voice was low. Cold. Familiar.

Damien Voss.

Sophia dropped the money. “We’re closed.”

Damien’s gray eyes lifted. They landed on Naya. Then they dropped.

To her belly.

The room went silent except for the rain.

For 8 months Naya dreamed of this moment. Screamed at it. Prayed for it. I'm afraid of it.

Now that it was here, she couldn’t breathe.

Damien stepped inside. The door shut behind him with a click that sounded like a gunshot.

“You thought you could hide my heir from me, Elena?” He used the fake name she’d been using. Elena Russo. “I spent 8 months burning the underworld to keep you safe. Now you’re coming home. With me. And with our baby.”

The word home broke something in her.

Naya’s back straightened. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach. Protective. Feral.

“My name is Naya,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake. She was proud of that. “And you don’t get to claim anything.”

Damien’s jaw ticked. Those gray eyes the same color as the baby’s ultrasound darkened.

“You look tired,” he said. Like that was the problem. Like he hadn’t just kicked in her door metaphorically. “You’re carrying my child alone. In a city that’s not safe.”

“I’m safe,” Naya said.

“Are you?” Damien took one step forward. Rain was still running down his face. “Because Marco put a 5 million dollar bounty on you. Because the Night Syndicate has been asking questions about a baby with Voss eyes. Because I tracked you through three states and two aliases just to find you here.”

Naya’s heart stopped.

He knew.

“Luca,” Sophia said, moving between them. “Don’t.”

Damien didn’t even look at her. “Move, Sophia.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sophia snapped. “You lost the right.”

Damien finally looked at her. “Did I? You were supposed to watch her. Not help her disappear.”

Naya saw it then. The betrayal in Sophia’s eyes. The guilt.

Oh.

Sophia had told him.

“Naya,” Sophia whispered. “I’m sorry. He would’ve found you anyway. At least this way you have a choice.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Naya said. She backed up until she hit the counter. The baby kicked again, hard. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Damien’s gaze came back to her. And for the first time since he walked in, the ice cracked.

He looked at her belly. Really looked.

His entire body went still.

“When?” he asked. Quiet. Dangerous.

“Eight months ago,” Naya said. “The night I escaped.”

Damien closed his eyes. Just for a second. When he opened them, they were black. Not gray. Black.

Like the stories said. Like the Voss rage.

“You ran from me while carrying my son,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know it’s a son?” Naya challenged.

“Because I know,” Damien said. He took another step. “I’ve felt him. In my dreams. In my blood. He’s mine.”

“Don’t,” Naya said. “Don’t talk about him like you know him. You weren’t there for the morning sickness. You weren’t there when I thought I was going to die in labor. You weren’t there for any of it.”

“I know,” Damien said. And the word sounded like it hurt him. “That’s why I’m here now. To make sure nothing ever happens to either of you again.”

The bell dinged again.

Three men in black suits walked in. Luca was one of them.

The cafe suddenly felt very small.

“Boss,” Luca said. “We need to move. Morelli’s men are 10 minutes out. Someone tipped them.”

Marco. Of course.

Damien didn’t take his eyes off Naya. “Then we move.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Naya said.

Damien’s expression went flat. “Naya.”

“Don’t,” she said. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Like you didn’t lock me up. Like you didn’t let me think I was nothing to you.”

“I never thought that,” Damien said.

“You didn’t stop me from running,” Naya shot back. “You let me go.”

“Because I thought you hated me,” Damien said. And for the first time, his voice broke. “Because I thought the last thing you wanted was me or my name or my baby.”

The baby kicked again. As if agreeing.

Naya pressed both hands to her stomach. Pain shot through her lower back. Not labor. Not yet. Just stress.

But Damien saw it.

His entire demeanor changed in a second.

“Are you okay?” He was in front of her before she could answer. His big hands hovered over her belly but didn’t touch. Like he was afraid she’d shatter. “Naya. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” Naya said automatically.

“Don’t lie to me,” Damien said, echoing that night on the porch. “Not about this. Not about him.”

Outside, tires screeched.

Luca cursed. “They’re here, boss.”

Damien looked at the door. Then back at Naya. Then at her belly.

He made a decision.

He slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back.

“What are you doing?” Naya gasped as he lifted her. She was 34 weeks pregnant. She weighed more. But to him she felt like nothing.

“I’m getting my family out,” Damien said.

“I’m not your family,” Naya said, but her arms went around his neck anyway. Instinct. Survival.

“You are,” Damien said. His voice was right by her ear. “You have been since that night. You just didn’t know it yet.”

He carried her through the back door. Luca covered them. Gunfire started outside.

Naya buried her face in Damien’s chest. He smelled the same. Cold. Cedar. Power.

“Don’t let them take him,” she whispered.

“No one is taking him,” Damien said. Possessive. Final. “No one is taking either of you. Not Marco. Not the Syndicate. Not even me.”

They piled into an armored SUV. Bullets hit the windows but didn’t break through.

As they sped away, Naya looked back at the cafe. At Sophia standing in the doorway, crying.

Damien followed her gaze.

“She’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll deal with her later.”

Naya turned to him. “Why did you come alone? Why not send Luca?”

“Because this is mine to fix,” Damien said. He finally let himself touch her. One hand on her belly. Gentle. Reverent. “And because I needed to see you. To see him.”

The baby kicked against his hand.

Damien’s eyes went wide. Just for a second. The Ice King, undone by a kick.

“He’s strong,” Damien said quietly.

“He’s a Voss,” Naya said before she could stop herself.

Damien’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “Yes. He is.”

They drove in silence for 20 minutes. Away from the city. Toward the estate.

When they stopped, it was in front of gates Naya never thought she’d see again.

The Voss Compound.

Guards everywhere. Cameras. Walls.

Safe.

Damien opened her door and helped her out. His hand never left the small of her back.

Inside, the house was warm. Quiet.

Servants moved quickly, disappearing when they saw her.

Damien led her to a sitting room. He sat her on the couch and knelt in front of her.

Actually knelt. The heir to the Voss Syndicate, on his knees.

“Look at me,” he said.

Naya did.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Damien said. “I’m not going to lock you up. I’m not going to take him from you.”

“Then what do you want?” Naya asked. Tears were threatening now. She was so tired.

“I want you to stay,” Damien said. “Here. With me. With protection. With doctors. With everything you and he need.”

“And after?” Naya asked. “After the baby comes? What happens to us?”

Damien reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was careful. Like she was glass.

“After,” he said, “you decide. If you want me, I’m here. If you don’t, I’ll still protect you both. But I’m not letting you go back to hiding. Not while there’s a target on your back.”

Naya looked at his hand on her belly. Big. Warm.

The baby kicked again, right under his palm.

Damien sucked in a breath. “Did he”

“Yes,” Naya said. Her voice cracked. “He likes you.”

Damien’s eyes shut. When he opened them, they were gray again. Wet.

“Can I?” he asked.

Naya nodded.

Damien placed both hands on her stomach. Fully. No hesitation.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sound was the rain and the baby moving between them.

Finally, Damien stood.

“I’ll have a room prepared. The best doctors. Security. Anything you need.” He paused at the door. “Naya?”

She looked up.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. For not stopping you. For not coming sooner.”

Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Naya sat there, alone in the house of her enemy.

Her hand went to her stomach.

“Hey, little one,” she whispered. “Looks like we’re home.”

Outside, the storm was still raging.

Inside, a new war was about to begin.

And this time, they were fighting for a family.