Chapter 10 The First Smile

Chapter 10 The First Smile


Damien's pov

I'd been watching Lara for five weeks now, and I'd started to notice the small changes.

The way her face paled and her cheeks red. She no longer flinched when I entered a room that made me suspect it. The way she'd started exploring the house instead of hiding in her bedroom.

She was coming back to life.

Like a flower that had been trampled finally daring to bloom again.

I found myself looking for her throughout the day and making excuses to check on her. I asked Chef Laurent to prepare things I knew she'd love just to see if she'd eat them.

Here I was, a thirty-two-year-old billionaire, planning my entire day around catching glimpses of a woman who was carrying another man's child.

But I couldn't help it.

I had been in love with Lara Montgomery for about five years now ane seeing her under my roof was everything I had dreamed of and nothing like I had imagined.

But she wasn't mine. She was carrying another man's child inside of her.

But at least she was alive and safe.

And for now, that had to be enough.

It was on a Thursday evening, I was working in my study room when Chef Laurent knocked on the door, he was unusually excited.

"Mr. Otto, I've prepared something special for Miss Montgomery tonight. Her favorite—crème brûlée with fresh berries."

Honestly I was surprised, “How did you know that was her favourite?”

Chef Laurent gave out a smile. "I have my sources. Will you be joining her for dinner?"

"I don't want to intrude—"

"She asked if you would," Chef Laurent said. "She requested you join her tonight."

I was super excited about that. "Oh. Yeah. Of course. I'll be down in five minutes."

I rushed to change out of my work clothes, feeling ridiculously like a teenager going on a first date.

Get yourself together, Otto. It's just dinner, not anything serious.

But to me,it wasn't just dinner.

Every meal with Lara felt like a gift. A chance to see her smile and watch her slowly remember how to be human again.

I found her in the dining room, wearing a soft blue sweater that made her eyes look even more beautiful. She'd pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail, and there was something different about her tonight.

She looked... peaceful.

"Hey," she said, smiling when she saw me. "Thanks for joining me. I know you're busy—"

“I'm never too busy for you,” I said, then immediately cringed internally.

Lara just smiled. "Chef Laurent said he made something special tonight."

We talked about some easy things, a book she had been reading, a funny video she saw online and we both smiled as we ate.

I was glad and happy Lara could smile again. It was really nice.

Then Chef Laurent appeared with dessert, presenting the crème brûlée with a flourish.

"For Miss Montgomery," he said. “I made it exactly how you like it."

Lara's eyes widened. She picked up her spoon and cracked through the caramelized sugar top, taking a small bite.

And then it happened.

She smiled.

The smile that lit up her whole face.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice full of delight. "This is perfect. This is exactly how I remember it."

She took another bite, closing her eyes in pleasure. "I haven't had crème brûlée in years. Lucas never wanted to go to French restaurants. He said they were pretentious."

Her smile got reduced at the mention of Lucas, but then she took another bite and it was back.

"This is amazing," she said, looking at Chef Laurent. "Thank you so much".

Chef Laurent beamed. "It is my pleasure, Miss Montgomery. Anytime you wish for it just ask."I'm always available.

After he left, Lara looked at me, still smiling. "Did you tell him to make this?"

"I may have mentioned you liked French desserts," I admitted.

"You're too good to me," she said softly. "I don't deserve—"

"Stop," I interrupted her gently. "You deserve every good thing, Lara.

She paused and looked at me for a long moment .

Then she went back to her dessert, but she continued to smile.

And I realized, sitting there watching her enjoy something as simple as crème brûlée, that I was completely and utterly in love with her.

Not like the years ago when she was with someone that doesn't love her and not the shallow attraction from years ago.

I love her more now.

The kind of love that made you want to give someone the world and ask for nothing in return.

The kind that made you want to protect them from every hurt, every pain, every cruel word.

The kind that made you willing to raise another man's child just to see her smile like this every day.

Fuck.

I was in so much trouble.

Later that night, after Lara had gone to bed, I sat in my study nursing a whiskey and thinking about how I'd gotten here.
I'd been half in love with Lara for years, if I was honest with myself.

Since that first day when she'd nearly crashed into me in her father's office, laughing and carefree and so alive.

I'd watched her from afar after that. Seen her at company events on Lucas's arm, always smiling but never quite reaching her eyes. Noticed how he never really looked at her. How he'd check his phone while she talked. How he'd cut her off mid-sentence to network with someone more important.

I'd wanted to say something. Do something. But what could I say? "Hey, your boyfriend is an asshole and you deserve better"?

She'd chosen Lucas and fell in love with her. It wasn't my place to inform her that that asshole didn't love her.

Then Richard called me to his deathbed and made me promise to watch over her.

And I'd been watching ever since.

I was there during her wedding, standing at the back of the church and watching her in her white dress looking so beautiful and Lucas looking like he had just closed a business deal.

I had seen her fade over the years little by little.
She lost weight, her energy, her spark and she became a shadow of her vibrant self.

And that night at the hotel…
God, that night.

I'd been drunk, celebrating the Zhao deal, when I stumbled into my room to find her in my bed. Looking at me with desperate and haunted eyes.

I should have called security or maybe called Lucas. Should have done anything except what I did.

But she'd kissed me. Begged me to make her forget. And I'd been weak.

I'd told myself we were both drunk. Both not thinking clearly. That it didn't mean anything.

But I'd known the truth even then.
It meant everything.

And when she'd disappeared the next morning, leaving only her mother's necklace behind, I'd felt like I'd lost something precious.

So I searched for her everywhere like someone obsessed and desperate.

And when I finally found her—dying on the curb outside my newly purchased mansion—I'd known it was fate.

Richard's promise, my love for her and like the universe giving me one chance to make this right.

I couldn't waste it.

The knock on my study door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in."

Dr. Chen entered, she looked professional in her blazer.

"Damien. Do you have a moment?"

"Of course. How is she?"

Dr. Chen sat down across from me, her expression serious. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Is something wrong? The baby—"

"The baby is fine," Dr. Chen said quickly.
"But Damien, I'm concerned about Lara's mental state. The physical recovery is going well, but emotionally... she's been through severe trauma."

"I know," I said.

"She's also pregnant," Dr. Chen said, watching my face carefully. "You know that, don't you?"

I nodded. "I suspected. The morning sickness made me really suspect it.

"She told me I should promise not to tell you," Dr. Chen said. "Patient confidentiality. But Damien, I'm worried.
She's malnourished, stressed, and trying to handle this pregnancy alone. If she doesn't take proper care of herself, she could lose the baby."

The thought made my chest tight. "What do you need me to do?"

“To make sure she eats, make sure she's not overdoing it.”

" And most importantly..." She leaned forward. "Make sure she knows she's not alone. That she has support."

"She knows," I said. "At least, I hope she knows."

"Does she know you know about the pregnancy?" Dr. Chen asked.

"I haven't said anything directly. But I think she suspects I figured it out."

Dr. Chen nodded slowly. "Maybe it's time to have that conversation and tell her frankly that you're here for her. That you'll help her through this."

"I don't want to pressure her," I said.
"She's been through a lot already—"

"Uncertainty is its own kind of pressure," Dr. Chen interrupted. "Right now, she's scared you'll kick her out when you find out she's pregnant. That you'll judge her. That your kindness has limits."

"That's ridiculous," I said immediately. "I would never—"

"You know that," Dr. Chen said. "But does she?"

The question hung in the air.

Did Lara know? Did she understand that I would do anything for her? That there was nothing that would make me turn her away?

"Talk to her," Dr. Chen said, standing.
"Soon. Before the fear eats her alive."
After she left, I sat there for a long time, thinking.

Dr. Chen was right. I needed to tell Lara the truth.

Not about my feelings—that would be too much, too soon, and completely selfish.
But about my commitment to helping her.
About the fact that I knew she was pregnant and it didn't change anything.
That I would help her rebuild her life, no matter what it took.

Because I loved her.

And you don't abandon the people you love.

Not ever.

The next morning, I took Lara shopping. She had been rotating her clothes ever since she got here.

She'd been wearing the same rotation of clothes I'd bought her weeks ago—simple things that were starting to look a little worn. And if I was right about how far along she was, she'd need new clothes soon anyway.

Clothes that would accommodate a growing belly.

"I really don't need anything," Lara protested as I drove us into the city.
"You've already done so much—"

"Humor me," I said. "Consider it payment for the company. I eat dinner alone way too often. You're doing me a favor."
She laughed softly. "That's a terrible excuse."

"It's the best I've got," I admitted with a grin.

I took her to a high-end boutique—not so fancy it would make her uncomfortable, but nice enough that she'd find quality things.

The sales associate, a woman named Marie, greeted us warmly. "Welcome! What are we shopping for today?"

"Everything," I said. "Casual clothes, nice clothes, whatever she wants."

Lara's eyes went wide. "Damien, I can't—"
"You can," I said firmly. "And you will. Please, Lara. Let me do this."

She bit her lip, clearly torn. "I don't have any way to pay you back."

"Consider it a loan," I said. "Pay me back when you're a billionaire."

Lara actually laughed at that. A real, genuine laugh that made my heart skip.
"A billionaire?" she said. "That's quite the confidence you have in me."

"Absolutely," I said seriously. "You're Richard Montgomery's daughter. You've got his brain, his drive, his vision. Give it a few years and you'll be running circles around me."

Her eyes got a little misty. "You really believe that?"

"I know it," I said.

She smiled—that beautiful, genuine smile I'd seen last night—and something in my chest felt like it might explode.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, let's do this."
We spent the next two hours shopping. Marie helped Lara pick out jeans and sweaters, dresses and skirts, casual and professional pieces.

And I made sure we subtly included some maternity clothes.

Nothing obvious. Just some flowy tops. Dresses with empire waists. Pants with elastic bands.

Things that would work now and still fit in a few months.

Lara noticed, of course. I saw her pause when Marie suggested a particular dress, her hand moving instinctively to her still-flat stomach.

Our eyes met across the store.

She knew that I knew.

But I just smiled and said, "That color looks great on you."

Giving her dignity. Letting her keep her secret a little longer.

She smiled back, grateful and relieved, and continued shopping.

We loaded up the car with bags—way more than she probably needed, but I didn't care.

"Thank you," Lara said as we drove home.
"Seriously, Damien. You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to," I said honestly. "You deserve nice things, Lara. After everything you've been through, you deserve to have something that's just for you."

She was quiet for a moment. Then: "Why are you so good to me?”

The question caught me off guard.

I could tell her the truth. That I was in love with her. That I'd been in love with her for years. That I would give her the world if she asked.

But that would be selfish. That would put pressure on her when she was already dealing with so much.

So instead, I said, "Because your father asked me to take care of you. And because you deserve to be taken care of."
It wasn't the whole truth.

But it was enough for now.

That evening, after dinner, Lara asked if I wanted to watch a movie.

"There's this film I've been wanting to see," she said. "Some romantic comedy thing. Probably terrible, but..."

"Sounds perfect," I said immediately.

We settled into the media room—a cozy space with a massive screen and comfortable couches. Lara curled up on one end of the couch, and I took the other, careful to maintain respectful distance.

The movie was exactly as terrible as she'd predicted. Predictable plot, cheesy dialogue, unrealistic everything.

But Lara laughed at the jokes. Smiled at the romantic moments. And gradually, as the movie went on, she relaxed.
Halfway through, she shifted closer. Then closer still.

By the time the credits rolled, she was asleep with her head on my shoulder.

I froze, not wanting to wake her.

She looked so peaceful and young.The worry lines that usually creased her forehead were smoothed away in sleep.

I could feel her breath, warm and steady against my neck. Could smell her shampoo—something floral and sweet.

My arm was going numb, but I didn't care.
I would sit here forever if it meant she could rest peacefully.

I looked down at her—this woman I'd loved from afar for so long. This woman who was broken and healing and carrying another man's child.
And I made a decision.

I would help her rebuild her life. Would secretly buy back all her father's properties and put them in a trust for her. Would gather evidence against Lucas and make sure he paid for what he'd done.

But more than that, I would be here. For her. For the baby.

Whatever she needed, whatever it took, I would do it.

Because I loved her.

And that meant protecting her. Supporting her. Being whatever she needed me to be—friend, protector, partner.

Even if she never loved me back.

Even if she chose to raise this baby alone.
Even if all I ever got was nights like this the way she was sleeping on my shoulder, trusting me enough to let her guard down.
It would be enough.

It had to be.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my touch feather-light so I wouldn't wake her.

"I'll protect you both," I whispered into the quiet room. "Whatever it takes."

Lara stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep..
I held perfectly still, barely breathing, until she settled again.

And I sat there for hours, my arm numb, my back aching, just watching her breathe..
Thinking about the future I wanted to give her.

A future where she was safe
and free from the pain Lucas had caused.

A future where maybe she could learn to trust again.

To love again.
Even if that love wasn't for me.

Outside, the moon rose high, casting silver light through the windows.

And I sat there, holding the woman I loved, and made a silent promise.

I would give her everything.
Even if it meant getting nothing in return.