KISS OF A FALLEN STAR

CHAPTER: 02

Eva's Pov:

Honestly, “it broke my heart” was an understatement.

I had just delivered a baby — His baby — was it wrong of me to expect my husband to be beside me?

It had been almost half an hour since the nurse last checked on me, yet there was still no sign of Ryan.

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I sat there, lost in thoughts, staring at the sterile white walls that seemed to mock my loneliness.

A soft knock at the door stirred a flicker of hope inside me — maybe Ryan had finally come. But when the door opened, it wasn’t him.

It was Damon.

The man I least expected to have my back.

Since Shefali’s death, he hadn’t been the same. It took time and effort to bring him back from that darkness, but now he was like the big brother I never had. He was also the reason I met Ryan — the reason I became Mrs. Ryan Williams instead of just another nameless woman in Ryan's life. Without Damon, my children would have been branded bastards by society.

For that, I would always be grateful.

Ryan never knew the truth — that it was Damon who quietly used his influence to help him land good scripts and attract renowned directors, even after a string of box‑office failures. Damon was also the one who invested in Ryan’s films, standing behind him as producer, guiding him through the maze of production and distribution.

It was Damon’s business acumen that kept Ryan’s production and distribution house alive — unlike the music studio Damon had once opened for him, which Ryan ruined through sheer lack of business sense.

Every success Ryan flaunted before the world had Damon’s fingerprints on it. The world saw Ryan Williams — the charming actor, the golden boy of cinema — but behind that glitter stood Damon, the strategist, the silent force who made sure Ryan’s empire didn’t crumble.

At first, Ryan had been jealous when Damon began promoting other talents, supporting young stars instead of centering everything around him. But when that move brought prestige and opportunity to the production house — one that the world believed Ryan owned — his jealousy faded. He didn’t mind Damon’s interference anymore.

After all, it was Damon’s smart moves that kept Ryan’s name shining, even when his own light had begun to dim.

“Eva, you alright?” Damon asked softly.

I nodded, though he could see the question in my eyes — Where’s Ryan?

“Ryan’s with your daughter,” Damon said before I could even ask. “She needs special care. Even Eric is with him.”

I gave a weak chuckle, wiping at my tears.

Damon’s words might have fooled Eric — my seven‑year‑old son, but not me.

I knew better.

Neither my husband nor his family cared enough to come check on me or my daughter.

From the moment my mother‑in‑law learned I was carrying a girl, she had tried to force me into aborting. Not because she was simply sexist, but because she believed my daughter would be incompetent — like me. She despised the idea of me bearing Ryan’s child.

When I was pregnant with Eric, I hadn’t even known until I was sixteen weeks along. Without warning, I had to leave Shefali behind and obey Ryan and his family’s demands. Those days were hell — my mother‑in‑law made sure of it. And yet, she adored Eric, because he was a miniature version of Ryan. That resemblance softened her cruelty toward me, though never erased it.

Ryan was different. Selfish, yes. Ignorant, yes. But not cruel like his mother. He took things for granted, like his father, blind to the damage he caused.

“You don’t have to lie, D,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I know they don’t care about me. I’m nothing more than a surrogate nanny to them.”

Damon didn’t argue. He didn’t try to comfort me with false promises. Instead, he pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and placed it on speaker.

To my surprise, it was Ryan. His voice came through sharp, furious, demanding to know who had hit me. The anger in his tone was unmistakable, the promise of punishment clear. He had no idea Damon was standing beside me — and Damon didn’t bother to tell him.

I won’t lie — it made my heart flutter.

Maybe, despite everything, Ryan did care. Maybe his coldness was just exhaustion, his distance just the cost of fame. Maybe he hadn’t ignored me at all — it was just the world that demanded he pretend to be single, charming, untouchable.

“D, I want to go home,” I whispered. “At least ask them to let me see my baby.”

“I’ll ask Ryan to arrange that,” Damon said.

“Until then, rest, Eva. I have people to deal with. Whoever did this — I won’t spare her. No matter what my relation with her is. No one gets away with hurting my family. You, Eric, and Riva — you’re my family.”

Riva.

The name warmed me. Damon had suggested it to Ryan when he couldn’t think of one for the birth certificate.

Deep down, I always believed Damon’s care for me was his way of repenting for his past mistakes. It had been years since Shefali died, yet he never looked at another woman. No rumors, no flings. He always found excuses to escape from his arranged marriage with his childhood friend Annaida Davenport.

Seeing him drown in his guilt and longing to see Shefali I always pray and hope that Shefali would find it in her to forgive him though she was never the forgiving type. I hoped she was at peace and maybe might have already let bygones be bygones.

I wanted to tell Damon what I saw before losing my consciousness — the fact that I felt atleast I thought I saw Shefali behind the wheel — but I couldn’t. I didn’t know if it was hallucination or reality.

It made no sense; Shefali had died years ago in a brutal crash, her car burned beyond recognition. Only her some broken burnt jewelry had survived.

Damon never accepted her death. Her death took a toll on him and he kept blaming himself for causing it I had watched him struggle to cop with normal life even after pretending to be fine and normal — he had people searching for her — even now. If I told him what I felt I saw, it would destroy him again — and Ryan would hate me even more.

“Eva, what is it?” Damon asked gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Did you see who hit you?”

I hesitated, words tangled in my throat.

“You saw, didn’t you?” His voice hardened, anger flashing in his eyes. His knuckles turned white.

I looked down, silent.

“Don’t worry,” he said darkly.

“I won’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know, she means the world to him. But no one hurts my family and walks away. He should be grateful to us — for not having her thrown into prison already. I’ll make sure she stays quiet and doen't create a rift between me and Nic. She doesn’t know my connection with Nic — but she will. And when she does, she’ll think twice before crossing me again.”

His words chilled me.

Nic — his half-brother.

Damon never showed it, but we all knew Nic meant a lot to him.

“What do you mean, Nic wouldn’t mind?” I asked, confused.

“Davina Parker,” he said, his voice sharp.

“Nic’s fiancée. She drove the car — my car. That i***t Nic couldn’t reach her so he rushed to NewYork from Sydney and I sent my car to pick him up from the airport. He kept my sweeptail as he knew if he asked me I wouldn't let him touch it, He sent my driver back, and then she drove my car and crashed it. Hit you.”

“D, she didn’t hit me,” I said quickly. “Her car came fast, lost control. I saw it — it wasn’t deliberate.”

He frowned, but I continued, trying to calm him.

“She turned the wheel at the last second. The side hit my leg, that’s all. I fainted out of fear, not injury. I shouldn’t have gone out in the first place not at eight months pregnant. Don’t blame her, D. She’s your family — or will be. Don’t ruin that over something so small.”

He didn’t answer.

His jaw tightened, his eyes cold.

“This isn't something small Eva. You should rest,” He said softly.

“Didn’t you say you had an urgent meeting?” I reminded him wanting to calm him down.

Realization flickered across his face. He stood, walked toward the door with his signature smirk, then paused.

“My meeting,” he said quietly, “is with Davina Parker.”

He turned back, his expression unreadable.

“Don’t worry, Eva. I’ll deal with what she did. It can’t go unpunished. I have a reputation to maintain. No one harms my family —and she isn’t my family. At least, not yet.”

He walked out, leaving me in stunned silence.

Before the door closed, he murmured,

“Take care.”

And just like that, the room fell silent again — cold, sterile, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against my chest, making it harder to breathe.

I could feel it in my bones, a warning I couldn’t ignore. Damon was about to do something — something reckless, something he would regret later.