Pregnant With The Mafia's Baby

Chapter 8: The Night That Changed Everything

The silence between us had stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Damon’s eyes were sharp, studying me like I was some puzzle he couldn’t solve. I could feel the doubt, the suspicion in his gaze. His mind was clearly at war with everything I’d told him, every word I’d tried to explain.

"Marco is using you. He's playing us both," Alex’s words echoed in my mind as I sat there, trying to hold on to whatever shred of trust we had left. I could feel Damon’s gaze on me, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the warmth that had been there before. Now, it was filled with questions—questions I didn’t have answers for.

“You don’t have to believe me, Damon,” I said quietly, my voice strained. “But I swear, I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for Marco to be there that night. I didn’t ask to be caught up in his game.”

He didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, watching me like he was trying to see past the words. I knew he was still processing everything—the footage, Marco’s involvement, and the unsettling feeling that I might not be as innocent as I seemed.

“I’m not saying you’re guilty,” Damon said, finally breaking the silence. “But the footage doesn’t lie. And you’ve got too many questions surrounding you. About Marco. About that night.”

The way he said it stung. The suspicion in his voice was unmistakable. “You really think I’m involved with him, don’t you?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly.

Damon didn’t meet my eyes immediately. He was quiet, the silence growing heavier between us. Then, his eyes flicked to mine, and I saw it—just a flicker of doubt. He was torn. I could see it in the way he stood, the way he seemed to hesitate before speaking.

“Maybe I want to believe you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t ignore the facts, Neeah.”

I looked away, my heart sinking as the distance between us felt wider than ever. I wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to believe that I wasn’t part of Marco’s game. But the evidence—damn that footage—was making it hard for him to see the truth.

Damon’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he sighed and turned away, his frustration palpable. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, his voice hard. “But I need answers, Neeah. And I need them soon.”

I didn’t know how to give him the answers he was looking for, especially when I didn’t have them myself. But I couldn’t help feeling like this was the beginning of the end for us.

---

The weight of Damon’s suspicions lingered long after he left. The penthouse, once a place of comfort, now felt cold and empty. My mind kept racing back to that night—the night everything had changed. The night I met Damon, the night I let go of everything. And the night I bumped into Marco without even realizing the chaos that would follow.

Flashback: That Night

The night started off like any other. Or, at least, that’s how I tried to make it seem. After losing my job that afternoon, I couldn’t bear to be alone. I needed something to numb the feeling. So I went to The Docks. It was a place I’d been to a handful of times—a loud, chaotic club where nobody asked questions, and nobody cared who you were.

I wasn’t there to find anyone. I wasn’t there to meet anyone. I just wanted a drink to dull the pain.

I’d been nursing my first drink when I felt someone sit next to me. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He had a presence that commanded attention without even trying.

I shifted slightly to the side, pretending to focus on my drink, but his eyes were already on me. I could feel them.

“You look like someone who could use a drink,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and just confident enough to make my attention drift to him.

I finally looked up. Tall. Dark hair. Sharp jawline. He wore a tailored suit that screamed money, but there was something else in his eyes. Something... knowing.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised he had approached at all. He wasn’t the kind of guy who usually came up to women at bars—at least not the ones that didn’t already know who he was.

“I’m good,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, not ready to engage.

His smile didn’t fade, and there was no hint of being offended. Instead, he leaned in just a little, his eyes never leaving mine. “You sure? I know what it feels like to need something strong to forget the world for a while.”

I set the glass down, giving him a hesitant glance. “Guess we all do,” I muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

“What happened?” he asked, completely unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm. His voice was like velvet—charming, but without any pressure.

I rolled my eyes a bit, feeling the weight of my frustration creeping in. “Lost my job today. Not that anyone would care,” I said bitterly.

There was a pause, then he smirked slightly, as if he knew something I didn’t. “Well, I care. I’m Damon, by the way.” He extended his hand, the smoothness of the gesture making it all seem too easy.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should shake his hand, unsure of what he really wanted. But I didn’t have much to lose, did I?

“Nice to meet you, Damon,” I said, shaking his hand, not offering my name.

He didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t told him mine. His hand was warm, firm. He didn’t release my hand immediately, and the contact lingered just long enough to make me feel the tension between us.

“You’re not big on names, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing but not pushy.

I gave him a small shrug, trying to play it cool. “Not tonight,” I said with a slight smile, wanting to keep my distance but not entirely sure why I didn’t want to push him away.

He leaned back a little, watching me closely. “Fair enough,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re different. You don’t wear your problems on your sleeve like everyone else here. But then again, maybe that’s why you’re here.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I didn’t know if I liked the way he saw me or hated it. “What about you?” I challenged. “What brings you here, Damon?”

His smirk widened. “Same reason,” he said easily. “To forget. Everyone’s got their demons. Mine just don’t come out in public.”

I leaned back, considering his words. The conversation was strange, but there was a certain depth to him. It wasn’t like anything I’d expected when he first walked over. He wasn’t just another man trying to pick me up. There was something... familiar about the way he spoke.