Chapter 173

Willow's POV

The silence of the examination room felt deafening as the doctor studied the results on her tablet. Beside me, Damian sat perfectly still, his face a carefully composed mask of calm. Only the slight tension in his jaw betrayed any emotion.

"Well, Ms. Clark," Dr. Matthews finally said, looking up with a professional smile, "the blood test confirms it. You're approximately five to six weeks pregnant."

Though I'd suspected it since the moment of nausea in the garden, hearing the words spoken aloud made my heart stutter. Pregnancy. Again.

"I... I see," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Your hormone levels are excellent," Dr. Matthews continued, tapping through screens of data. "Everything looks normal so far. We'll want to schedule an ultrasound in the next week or so to confirm dating and check for a heartbeat."

She continued talking about prenatal vitamins and appointments, but her voice faded to background noise as memories crashed over me - lying in my plain apartment much like this one less than half a year ago, bleeding and alone after Richard had forced me to terminate my pregnancy. The devastating emptiness I'd felt. The grief that had hollowed me out.

"Willow?" Damian's voice pulled me back to the present. His hand had found mine, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "Are you alright?"

I looked at him, searching his expression for any sign of the anger or manipulation Richard had shown. Instead, I found only concern and something else - a cautious warmth that made my throat tighten.

"I'm... processing," I admitted.

Dr. Matthews glanced between us. "I'll give you two a moment alone," she said tactfully, rising from her stool. "Take your time. When you're ready, the nurse will provide some information packets and schedule your follow-up appointments."

When the door closed behind her, silence descended again. I stared at my hands, unable to meet Damian's eyes.

"This is unexpected," he finally said, his voice carefully neutral.

A small, hysterical laugh escaped me. "You could say that."

"Willow, look at me."

I reluctantly raised my gaze to his.

"Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're afraid of - I want you to know that this is your decision. Entirely yours." His words were measured, deliberate. "I will support whatever choice you make."

My breath caught. "You would... if I wanted to..."

"If you chose to terminate, yes, I would support that," he said, though something flickered in his eyes. "And if you choose to continue the pregnancy, I will support that too. Completely."

The contrast to Richard couldn't have been starker. Where Richard had threatened and manipulated, Damian was offering choice. Where Richard had seen only inconvenience, Damian was seeing... what? Possibility?

"I don't know what I want yet," I said honestly. "It's too sudden."

He nodded. "You don't need to decide anything today. But whatever happens, you're not alone in this."

The simplicity of those words - you're not alone - broke something open inside me. Tears spilled over before I could stop them.

"Last time was so different," I whispered. "Richard gave me no choice. He said it would ruin everything if I didn't... if I kept..."

Damian's expression darkened. "Richard Sinclair is a manipulative bastard who cares only about appearances and control. I am not him."

"I know," I said, and was surprised to realize I meant it.

He reached out, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "We'll figure this out. Together. One step at a time."

I nodded, allowing myself to lean slightly into his touch. One step at a time.

---

By early afternoon, I'd composed myself enough to meet with my friends in the hospital's VIP lounge. Damian had suggested I take more time to rest, but I knew the others would be waiting for updates about Beckeet and the club.

They were already gathered when I arrived, sprawled across plush sofas with half-eaten sandwiches and coffee cups scattered on the table between them. Mia spotted me first, bouncing up from her seat.

"Wild! There you are! We were about to send a search party."

"Sorry," I said, accepting her quick hug. "I got caught up with some... stuff."

Carlos caught my eye, raising an eyebrow slightly. I gave an imperceptible shake of my head - not now.

"How's Beckeet doing?" I asked, sinking into an empty armchair.

"I just came from his room," Jasmine said. "He's sleeping now. The doctor said his oxygen levels have improved slightly."

"That's good news," I said, feeling a wave of relief.

Lisa passed me a sandwich. "Eat. You look pale."

I accepted it gratefully, realizing I was actually starving. As I took a bite, I noticed the expectant looks on their faces.

"So," Carlos prompted, leaning forward, "did you talk to Damian? About what we discussed in the morning?"

I swallowed my bite and nodded. "Yes. And... well, he already has plans in motion for Sunset."

"Of course he does," Lisa said with a knowing smirk. "Rich people move fast."

"What kind of plans?" Jasmine asked cautiously. "Because we were pretty serious about our Phoenix idea this morning."

I took a deep breath. "He's expediting the insurance claims, offering settlement packages for employees, arranging temporary positions at other venues, and..." I looked at Carlos, "he specifically mentioned setting you up with a fully-equipped production studio while the club's being rebuilt."

Carlos's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what? A full studio?" He let out a low whistle. "That's...compared to the bootstrap operation we were planning... damn."

"But what about our vision?" Mia pressed, leaning forward. "Our own place? The whole 'rising from the ashes' concept we stayed up half the night planning?"

"That's the thing," I said. "He's proposing a partnership arrangement. You all would have equity stakes and operational control. Blackwood Global would maintain property ownership but limit their involvement to financial backing."

A stunned silence fell over the group.

"Equity stakes?" Jasmine repeated, her business mind clearly working overtime. "Like, actual ownership percentages? Not just management positions?"

"That's what he suggested."

"These conditions are way better than what we could pull off ourselves," Carlos admitted, shaking his head. "But there's gotta be a catch, right? Nobody just hands over chunks of a business."

Lisa crossed her arms. "Sounds too good to be true. Like one of those fancy mousetraps with expensive cheese. We'd need to have a lawyer dissect every sentence of whatever agreement he's proposing."

"I asked about his motivation," I said. "He says he wants to make things right after what happened with Chloe."

"This is way beyond 'making things right,'" Lisa insisted. "Nobody just hands over equity in a multi-million dollar business out of guilt."

Mia's eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait, could we still use our Phoenix concept? Maybe incorporate it somehow?"

"The Phoenix Lounge at Sunset," Carlos suggested, already warming to the idea despite his skepticism. "We could keep our vision of blending old-school vibe with new energy."

"And with Blackwood's resources," Jasmine added, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her knee, "we could actually implement all those sustainability features we talked about, not just the bare minimum our limited budget would allow."

"Plus we wouldn't have to beg every bank in LA for startup loans," Carlos added.

Lisa was still frowning. "I'm just saying - proceed with extreme caution. Rich people's 'help' often comes with invisible strings."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "But I genuinely think he wants to help. Especially after everything that happened."

At the implied mention of Chloe, a tension settled over the group. Mia's expression darkened, and Lisa exchanged a look with her.

"Speaking of which," Lisa said carefully, "there's something we've been wanting to ask you about."