Chase The Baby's Mommy Back: Billionaire's Regret

Under His Pressure

Damian

I couldn’t take my eyes off Jennifer. Her head was bowed, lost in thoughts I couldn’t decipher. Her hands, clenched into fists on the table, flew to her face. She let out a deep, heavy sigh.

Seeing her in the hospital for the first time after all these years was a shock. It had been years since she cried and begged me to take responsibility for her pregnancy.

A sudden heat surged in my throat, an inexplicable sensation. I grabbed the water bottle nearby, gulping it down in a few swift swallows.

Jennifer flinched at my sudden movement. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up. Her face was even more beautiful, her hair longer and more captivating. Her eyes were steady, one eyebrow slightly arched. That look again. She felt nothing but disgust for me.

“Sorry, I was thirsty,” I explained, even though she didn’t ask.

Jennifer barely acknowledged me, mumbling a brief response. She looked uncomfortable being alone with me. I saw Mr. Harrington approaching, and Jennifer glanced sideways, breathing a sigh of relief as her boss returned.

I wanted to say something or the other but from her responses before, I know she did not wish to have anything further to do with me except when it had to do with work issues. Her eyes immediately signified that she had closed all doors or made me understand that there were no doors she ever wanted me to cross. Somehow it brings a sting to my heart.

“Hope our cooperation goes smoothly, Sir,” I shook Mr. Harrington’s hand, then turned my gaze to her. The corners of her lips lifted in a forced smile. Jennifer was trying to remain professional.

She extended her hand. “I hope everything goes well, Mr. Beaumont,” she said. Her soft voice, once warm and familiar, now carried a different vibe. Each time I faced her cold response, regret gnawed at me even more, eating away at every inch of my being.

I smiled, not forced but awkwardly, and Jennifer noticed. I watched them walk away, side by side until they disappeared from view.

My focus shifted from them when I felt my phone vibrate. An incoming call. It’s from my father.

“Yes, Father?”

“Come home quickly. We need to talk about something important,” he said, then hung up abruptly, offering no further explanation. I sighed and prepared to follow his absolute command.

Here I am, in my father’s private room at the mansion. Just the two of us. My father looked at me calmly, yet sharply. His gaze carried many meanings.

“I need an heir,” he said, straight to the point.

I took a deep breath. I expected this conversation. It wasn't the first time. I was tired of the repetitive topic, and my answer remained the same.

“Selina and I are working on it, Father.”

His eyes looked bored. “Six months ago, you said the same thing, Damian. It’s been six months! Do you think I have endless time?” he said, clearly frustrated with an exasperated sigh.

Cough... Cough...

Over the past year, my father’s health has deteriorated. He had been rushed to the hospital several times due to his illness. The exact cause was unknown. Despite his efforts to live healthily, the disease came unexpectedly and worsened his condition day by day.

“I want to see my grandchild before I die,” he said firmly.

“You’re not going to die,” I said, trying to divert the topic.

“You have no other choice. I’m only giving you six more months. If your wife isn’t pregnant by then, the inheritance will go to your brother’s child,” he said, ignoring my concern for him.

My fists clenched at his words, my knuckles turning white.

“And not just that, Damian.’ If you fail,” he went on and his voice became colder and much harsher, “your place will be taken by your brother.”

I looked right into his eyes, and they locked up with me. I was still fuming. It was irrelevant to deny the statements uttered by him. All these decisions he used to take were final and none of them could be changed.

He stared at me with his laser vision and waited for an answer. “You will get your granddaughter,” I said through clenched teeth. I wheeled around, my face reddening, and walked out of the room.

Blam.

The door slammed behind me, the echo amplifying my frustration.

My frustration grew even bigger when I saw him. My brother. He looked at me blankly, and there was something in that stare that made me even more upset. The corners of his mouth lifted into a thin smirk.

“You look upset,” he remarked. I didn’t want to say anything; it would only worsen my mood. I walked past him, but before I could leave, I heard him say, “Are you sure you’re not impotent? It’s been years, and still no kid, but good luck, little brother,” in a sly tone. My teeth clenched harder, but I remained calm. Overreacting would only please him.

The day's misfortune didn’t end there. When I entered the bedroom, Selina, my wife, was waiting with a sour expression. Her lips were pursed, her eyes narrowed, glaring at me. The atmosphere in our room was truly dark.

“He wants us to have a kid. He’s only giving us six months. If we fail, the inheritance goes to my brother’s child, and my position will be handed over to him.”

“What?! Is he dumb or something?!” she exclaimed, her brow furrowed. I shot her a disapproving look. People always saw Selina as a woman with impeccable manners. She was good at acting, but after years of being her husband, I knew it was all a facade. Her behavior was awful, and her words were harsh and uncontrolled.

“Watch your mouth. You're talking about my father,” I warned her. Selina glanced at me briefly before rolling her eyes. I knew she didn't care about my warning.

It felt like karma. My life had been spiraling downward ever since I treated Jennifer so poorly.

“How can they do that?! It’s not fair!” my wife exclaimed.

I took a deep breath. There was nothing I could do right now except calm my mind and figure out a plan. Giving up was never an option. Handing over everything to my brother was the last thing I’d ever do!

I had fought tooth and nail, sacrificing so much to reach this position. Surrendering everything I’d worked for to that bastard was unthinkable. No matter what, I wouldn't let that happen.

Selina sat beside me, wrapping her arms around my left one. She rested her head on my shoulder, trying to act sweet again. Always like this.

“But honey, you know that we can’t,” she said.

"Damn it," her words cornered me further. Selina and I had been married for 6 years, but we still hadn’t been blessed with a child. We had consulted doctors, and they had told us that one of us was infertile. At that time, I thought it was Selina. As far as I remember, I was healthy; I had already checked it a long time ago.

However, it turned out I was wrong. I was the infertile one. My ego was shattered when the doctor told me.

"What should we do? I don’t want us to lose all of this. I don’t want to have a poor husband," Selina said, her face filled with worry. I looked at her. Selina still didn’t know I had met Jennifer again. If she found out, she’d go ballistic.

Selina was extremely jealous and possessive. Telling her I had met with Jennifer again would only cause trouble. Especially in the past few years, Jennifer’s name has become a very sensitive topic for her.

"You just stay calm. None of that is going to happen. I'll take care of everything," I reassured her.

But for that, I had to involve Jennifer again. That beautiful kid, Nana—her face... it’s so similar to mine. I glanced at Selina, but was she really telling me the truth back then?

To be continued…