Bound by Contracts Claimed by love

Episode 5

Sharks in the Boardroom.

The Boardroom of Blackwood Enterprises was a shark tank, its walls lined with cold glass and sharper gazes. Emma sat stiffly at Damian’s side, her hands twisting beneath the tables as executives whispered behind polished folders.

Marcus Kane, smug in his tailored suit, leaned back in his chair. “With all due respect, Mr. Blackwood,” he said smoothly, “the board has concerns about distractions”.

Emma’s stomach knotted. Every eyes slid to her.

Damian’s expression didn’t flicker. He leaned back, broad shoulders filling the head seat like a king on a throne. “Distractions?” His tone was silk with a blade underneath.

Marcus smirked. “A marriage made overnight. A… wife”, his voice lingered on the word, “with no pedigree, no experience and no presence in the corporate world. It unsettles investors”.

“Forgive me, Damian, but when you replaced an heiress with…this, the board has questions. The press certainly does too…”

A ripple of chuckles echoed. Emma’s face burned.

“Perhaps,” Vanessa added sweetly from the far side of the table, “Your wife would be more comfortable out of the spotlight. We wouldn’t want her overwhelmed”.

Emma’s throat tightened. Their words carved her open. She waned to vanish, to melt into the leather chair and be invisible.

Damian’s word cut the air. “Enough!”

The table went silent. He turned his gaze on Marcus, cold and absolute. “My marriage is not a topic for the board. Nor is my wife. “You and the board should concern yourselves with numbers, not gossip”.

Marcus’ smirk faltered, but Emma caught the flicker of satisfaction in Vanessa’s eyes. They had made their mark known. Humiliating her was the goal, and they’d succeeded.

Emma dropped her gaze, shame burning her skin. Damian’s hand brushed hers under the table, not tenderly, but deliberately more like a silent reminder: to hold your head up, don’t show weakness

When the meeting adjourned, she escaped the room first, her chest tight with humiliation.

And in the shadows of the corridor, Marcus watched her go, his smirk dark and dangerous.

Beside him, Vanessa voice purred softly.

“Pathetic, isn’t she?”

She walked passed Marcus and stepped into the light, her crimson lips curling into a cruel smile. “She won’t last, and when she falls, Damian will come crawling back to me”

Marcus’s smirk deepened, “Then let’s make sure she falls.”

That night, back at the mansion, nausea rolled through her stomach again. Emma barely made it upstairs before the nausea hit. She collapsed in the bathroom, her stomach twisting violently. Sweat clung to her skin and her hand shook as she pressed them against the counter as dizziness swept over. Something felt wrong-off.

A sudden cramp clenched her lower belly, sharp enough to steal her breath. She staggered, clutching at the counter, when a hot wetness rushed between her thighs. She looked down and froze, thick, dark blood was seeping through her clothes, dripping onto the floor in uneven splatters. Her hands shook as she pressed them against herself, but the bleeding only spread, warm and relentless. Panic clawed at her chest, this wasn’t just spotting, this was her body betraying her, and the life inside her is slippery away with every scarlet stain.

“NO… no, not now, please!” she gasped, staring at her blood-soaked hands. Her voice cracked, trembling with terror. “God, don’t take my baby from me…. I’ve barely even held the thought of my baby and you’re already ripping my baby away! Please, not my child… Not like this.” She sank to her knees, sobs shaking her chest as the warm blood kept slipping through her fingers. “I can’t lose you… I can’t, do you hear me? You’re all I have!

Her pulse thundered as she slipped out to a quiet corner of the city the next morning, avoiding the watchful eyes of Damian’s staff. At a discreet clinic, the doctor’s words brought a mix of gratitude and terror.

Tears pricked her eyes, not joy, not yet but fear. Damian doesn’t even know she’s pregnant… he’d use it as another chain, another weapon. She couldn’t tell him. At least not now…

She left the clinic in a daze, the city burring around her.

Emma sat at the edge of her bed, the doctor’s word echoing like a drumbeat in her skull.

“You came very close to losing the baby, but your child is still here, still fighting. This is your early stage, you don’t need stress. The stress put your body under immense strain, but with enough rest, care and good food there’s hope. You must take it easy from now one, for both your sake and the baby’s, because your life is also at risk”

Her hands trembled as she clutched the loose folds of her dress knowing is almost impossible for her to have enough rest and care in Damian’s mansion, her heart begged her to tell someone, to share the crushing weight on her chest. But her mind screamed louder. If Damian knows, he’ll never let me go. He’ll use this child as a chain.

“No. This secret had to stay”

In that moment she knew she would fight with every ounce of her strength to keep her herself and her child safe while keeping it away from Damian.

A sharp knock on the door snapped her back. Damian didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped inside, dark suit still crisp from his late-night meeting, eyes narrowing as they swept over her pale face.

“You’ve been gone all afternoon. “His voice was cold, not questioning but accusing.

Emma’s throat tightened. “I needed air”

“You need air?” he repeated, as if testing the lie. His gaze sharpened, like he could slice through her. “And you thought vanishing without telling anyone was wise?”

She clenched her first to stop them from shaking. “I didn’t vanish. I just…”

“Emma.” His tone silenced her. He stepped closer, so close that she could smell the faint spice of his cologne. “You don’t disappear. Not in this house. Not as my wife”

His words weren’t caring. They were possession. And yet, somewhere be beneath the ice in his eyes, a flicker of something unsettled flashed. Something almost human.

Emma turned away, her hand instinctively brushing against her stomach, she caught herself too late. Damian’s gaze followed, suspicion flaring.

His presence loomed too close, his gaze too sharp, as if it could slice through every secret she held inside. The heavy musk of his perfume wrapped around her, thick and suffocating, turning her stomach into violent waves. For one terrifying second, she thought she might throw up on him, her secret spilling out in the most obvious way possible.

Desperation gipped her, and before nausea could betray her, she snapped her head aside and forced a sudden sneeze covering her mouth with her hand, the abrupt sound breaking the heavy silence and pulling his eyes away from her face.

He hesitated, then turned and walked out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut. She let out a shaky breath, wiping the nervous sweat from her palms and pressed a hand on her stomach “That was too close,” she whispered to herself as she ran to bathroom to throw up….

Just as she thought she was relieved, the handle turned. The door cracked open, spilling in a sliver of light. His voice slid through the gap, dark and certain.

“Tell me, what exactly are you hiding? What was so close?”