Scarlett sat in her chambers, staring blankly out the window as the first rays of dawn crept into the room. Her hand rested on her abdomen, the faint swell a stark reminder of the secret she was carrying. Everything had gone according to her plan—or so she thought. The pregnancy she had fabricated to trap Damien had somehow become real, and now it was wreaking havoc on her carefully constructed facade.
She winced as a sharp pang shot through her, not physical pain but a discomfort far deeper. It was Damien’s scent again, lingering in the room from his earlier visit. The nausea rose instantly, twisting her stomach and making her grip the armrest of her chair. She couldn’t stand his presence anymore, but there was no escaping it.
The problem wasn’t just the physical aversion; it was the im
