Chapter 3: Term Of Agreement.
786 Words
Serena watched as Damian paced the length of his penthouse, his movements sharp and controlled. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. He was processing the news, and from the way his blue eyes darkened, she knew his mind was already calculating the next steps.
She had expected some kind of reaction—anger, disbelief, maybe even cold detachment—but this silence was worse.
Finally, he turned to her. “You’re keeping it.” His voice was measured, but there was an edge beneath it.
Serena lifted her chin. “Yes.”
Damian exhaled sharply. He walked to the bar, poured himself a drink, and then hesitated before offering her a questioning glance.
“No alcohol for me,” she said dryly.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Right.” He set his glass down without taking a sip and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “How long have you known?”
“A few days.”
“And you waited until now to tell me?”
Serena stiffened. “I needed time to process. My whole life just changed overnight, Damian. This wasn’t exactly something I could blurt out in the middle of a board meeting.”
His eyes locked onto hers, unreadable and intense. “And what exactly do you expect from me?”
The question caught her off guard. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just thought you should know.”
Damian’s gaze didn’t waver. “You thought I should know?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Serena, this isn’t some minor inconvenience. This is a child. My child.”
Her stomach twisted. “I know that.”
He pushed off the counter and walked toward her, his presence overwhelming. “So tell me, Serena. What’s your plan? Are you expecting child support? Marriage?”
Her breath hitched at the word. Marriage? No, that wasn’t what she wanted. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead.
“I don’t want your money, Damian,” she said firmly. “And I’m not asking you to marry me. I just… I needed you to know. I thought we could figure this out together.”
His expression remained unreadable. “Together.”
“Yes.”
He studied her for a long moment, his sharp mind undoubtedly weighing every possible outcome. Then, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll do this together.”
Serena’s shoulders sagged with relief, but before she could fully process it, he added, “On my terms.”
She frowned. “Your terms?”
Damian took a step closer, his towering frame making her feel smaller than ever. “I don’t do things halfway, Serena. If this child is mine, I will be involved in every aspect of its life. That means ensuring you have the best medical care, security, and stability.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a security detail, Damian. I’m not some fragile damsel.”
He ignored her protest. “I also want you to move into my penthouse.”
Serena blinked. “What?”
“It’s the safest option.”
“No,” she said firmly. “That’s not happening.”
Damian’s expression didn’t change. “Why not?”
She scoffed. “Because it’s absurd. I have my place, my own life. I’m not about to give that up just because I’m pregnant.”
His jaw tightened. “You expect me to sit back while the mother of my child struggles on her own?”
“I never said I was struggling.”
Damian stepped even closer, his scent—clean, masculine, intoxicating—wrapping around her. “This isn’t up for debate, Serena. You’re carrying my child. You will be protected.”
She clenched her fists. “You don’t get to control my life just because of this.”
His gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. “It’s not about control. It’s about responsibility.”
Serena wanted to argue, wanted to tell him she could handle herself. But deep down, she knew Damian Blackwood wasn’t a man who made empty promises. If he said he would be involved, he meant it.
She exhaled slowly. “I need time to think.”
He studied her, then nodded. “Fine. But don’t take too long.”
Serena turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“And Serena?”
She hesitated, glancing back.
His eyes darkened. “No matter what happens, this child will have everything. I won’t let you raise it alone.”
Her chest tightened, and without another word, she walked out.
But as she stepped into the elevator, one thought consumed her: What have I gotten myself into?
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- Writer
