Chapter 219

BRIELLE

My lips were still tingling from Damien’s kisses as I listened to him moving around in the kitchen. The heat between us on the couch hadn’t fully faded — it lingered low in my belly, a warm, restless ache that pregnancy had only made sharper. I pressed my thighs together under the blanket, trying to ignore how badly I still wanted him.

He was right, of course. The doctor had been very clear. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier when he looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole.

I reached for the stack of gifts again, needing something to distract myself. The flowers still smelled sweet, the notes were kind and heartfelt, but my fingers kept brushing against the hidden envelope. That single white rose with the black ribbon. The elegant, almost poetic threat disguised as devotion.

The Shadow King who calls himself Damien must be unmade.

I shivered and quickly pulled my hand away, tucking the envelope deeper under the pile. Not now. I wouldn’t let one weird note ruin the beautiful day we’d had.

“Food’s ready,” Damien announced, appearing with a tray balanced perfectly in his hands. His bare chest and low-slung sweatpants made my mouth go dry all over again. The man looked like sin wrapped in domestic comfort — damp hair, defined muscles still glistening slightly from the shower, and that intense gaze that always saw too much.

He set the tray down on the coffee table with careful precision, then helped me sit up straighter, fluffing the pillows behind my back like it was a sacred ritual. The grilled cheese looked perfect — golden, crispy, with melted cheese oozing out the sides and that spicy honey drizzle I loved so much. A side of pickles and fresh mango slices completed the chaotic pregnancy meal.

“You’re spoiling me rotten,” I said, reaching for the plate with a grateful smile.

“Good,” he replied, settling beside me and pulling my legs across his lap again. “You and our daughter deserve to be spoiled. How are you feeling after today? Any back pain? Dizziness? Be honest.”

I took a big bite of the sandwich and moaned dramatically. “Mmm. This is better than sex right now, and that’s saying something because I’m still thinking about you pinning me to that couch.”

Damien let out a low, pained laugh, his hand resting warmly on my thigh. “You’re going to kill me, Luna. I’m over here trying to be a responsible husband, and you’re moaning like that over grilled cheese.”

“It’s really good cheese,” I said innocently, licking a bit of honey off my thumb. “And you’re really hot when you’re all restrained and noble. It’s unfair.”

He shook his head, eyes dark with lingering heat, but his smile was soft. “Eat your weird dinner before I forget every doctor’s order and show you exactly how unfair I can be.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty. I kept stealing glances at him — the way his jaw moved when he chewed, the gentle way his thumb stroked my leg, the absolute devotion in every small action. My heart felt too big for my chest.

“You know,” I said eventually, wiping my hands on a napkin, “today was one of the best days we’ve had in a while. The park, the kite disaster, that little girl calling you scary… I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks.”

Damien grinned, feeding me a slice of mango. “You defended my honor like a warrior queen. ‘He’s the nicest.’ I almost choked on my ice cream.”

“You do look a little intimidating when you’re in full protective mode,” I teased, poking his bare chest. “All tall and broody and ready to fight the wind for a kite. But I like it. I like that you’re mine.”

His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss me — slow, sweet, and full of everything we couldn’t do right now. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

“I love you,” he said quietly, voice rough with emotion. “So much it scares me sometimes. Seeing you happy today, laughing in the sun with our daughter kicking inside you… it’s everything I never thought I’d have. I’d burn the world down to keep you both safe and smiling like that.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. Pregnancy hormones were brutal, but this was real. “I love you too. Even when you hover and make spreadsheets about my cravings. You make me feel safe. Loved. Wanted. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You existed,” he said simply, kissing the tip of my nose. “That was enough.”

I let out a watery laugh and poked his bare chest. “That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said. You’re on a roll tonight.”

Damien grinned, that rare, boyish smile that made my heart flip every single time. “Guilty. But it’s true. You showed up in my life like a storm I didn’t see coming, and now I can’t imagine a world without you in it.” He shifted me gently so I was half-lying against his chest, his hand stroking slow circles over my belly. “Though I have to admit, the spreadsheets are getting out of hand. I added a new tab today: ‘Weird Craving Combinations Rated by How Likely They Are to Make Me Gag.’”

I gasped dramatically. “You rated my cravings? Traitor. What did the cinnamon-roll-chocolate-milk-Cheeto monstrosity get?”

“Solid seven out of ten. The pickles in strawberry milkshake got a four, but only because I almost lost my dinner watching you eat it.”

I burst out laughing, the sound loud and genuine. “You are such a drama king. It was delicious. Aurora loved it. She was doing cartwheels in there.”

“She has your taste buds and my stubbornness. We’re doomed,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Next thing you know she’ll be demanding mango ice cream with chili powder at three in the morning and I’ll be the one running to the store while you two judge my snack choices from the couch.”

I snuggled closer, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with my fingertip. “You’d do it though. You’d go out in the snow at 3 a.m. for weird pregnant lady food.”

“Without hesitation,” he said softly, his voice turning serious for a moment. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for both of you. Even if it means eating pickles dipped in chocolate sauce with you.”

My  phone buzzed on the coffee table beside us.

I glanced at the screen and my stomach dropped. The name flashed brightly: Dad.

I snatched the phone quickly, silencing it and turning it face-down in one clumsy motion.

Damien’s hand paused on my belly. “Who is that?”

“Uhh… it’s nothing,” I replied, way too quickly, forcing a bright smile. “Just Aria probably sending me another baby outfit link. You know how she is.”

He studied me for a long second, grey eyes narrowing. That intense, all-seeing gaze that always made me feel naked. “You’re good at literally everything, Luna. Writing. Loving me. Growing our daughter. But lying? You’re terrible at it. Who is that?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. The phone buzzed again — another call. I could feel Damien’s body tense beside me.

After a long, heavy pause, I sighed. “It’s my father.”

Damien’s entire demeanor changed. The easy, playful warmth vanished, replaced by something sharper, darker. He sat up straighter, jaw tightening. “Why is he calling again? After that day at the mall? I thought he finally got the message and stopped.”

I swallowed hard, avoiding his eyes. “He has been calling… a few times. But I haven’t picked up. Not once. I swear.”

Damien exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t want to bother you,” I said quietly, my voice small. “You’ve been dealing with so much already… the company, the pregnancy scare, making sure I don’t lose my mind on bed rest. I didn’t want to add more stress. I thought if I ignored him long enough he’d stop.”

“For Christ’s sake, Brielle.” Damien’s voice was low, strained with frustration and something that sounded a lot like fear. “Thomas isn’t just anyone. He’s not some random ex who wants to catch up. He blackmailed me into this marriage. He helped cover up my parents’ murder. He treated you like a bargaining chip for years. You should have told me the second he started calling again. I thought we were past keeping things from each other.”

I felt tears sting my eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could handle it on my own.”

Damien looked at me, really looked at me, his expression a mix of anger, worry, and love. “You are not planning on seeing him, Brielle, are you?”

The easiest thing to say would have been no. A clean, simple no. But the word stuck in my throat.

I hesitated.

“Yes,” I whispered finally. “I think… I think I want to see him.”

The silence that followed was heavy.