CHAPTER 232
CHAPTER 232
DAMIEN
TWO MONTHS LATER
“I’ve told you a hundred times,” I said sharply, my voice slicing through the conference room like a whip, “you should have flagged the discrepancy in the European shipping contracts the moment it appeared. Not three weeks later when it’s already cost us millions in delays and penalties.”
The long mahogany table fell deathly silent. Twelve of my top executives and department heads sat rigid in their chairs, eyes fixed on the reports in front of them or the glossy surface of the table…anywhere but directly at me. The air was thick with tension. I stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up to my forearms, palms braced on the cool wood as I leaned forward, staring each of them down.
“Mr. Rossi,” one of the senior VPs began cautiously, adjusting his tie, “we were waiting for final confirmation from legal before escalating—”
“Waiting?” I cut him off, my tone dangerously low. “We don’t wait at Rossi Global. We anticipate. We act decisively. We protect what belongs to us. If you can’t operate at that level of urgency, then perhaps you don’t belong at this table.”
No one dared to speak. I let the heavy silence stretch, my gaze sweeping across every face.
“Fix it,” I continued coldly. “By end of day tomorrow, I want revised contracts on my desk, full compensation packages for the affected partners, and a brand-new oversight protocol that prevents this kind of failure from ever happening again. Am I clear?”
A chorus of “Yes, Mr. Rossi” echoed around the room, some voices steadier than others.
I was about to move on to the next agenda item when my phone vibrated sharply on the table. I glanced down.
Aria.
My stomach tightened instantly. She had been at the penthouse with Brielle when I left this morning, keeping my wife company while I handled an emergency overseas call. A cold spike of fear shot through my veins.
I held up a hand, silencing the room immediately.
“Excuse me,” I said curtly, snatching the phone and stepping toward the window. “Aria. What’s going on?”
Her voice came through rushed, breathless, and edged with urgency.
“Soo Damien… Brielle is at the hospital now. She started having contractions this morning and they got really intense, really fast. We’re at Mount Sinai. She needs you. The doctors say it’s happening quicker than expected and—”
The rest of her words blurred into static.
Brielle.
Giving birth.
My heart slammed against my ribs with brutal force. The conference room, the executives, the contracts—everything faded into meaningless noise. For a split second, the world tilted.
“Damien?” Aria’s voice pulled me back. “She’s okay, but you should get here as fast as you can.”
“I’m on my way,” I said, voice tight. I ended the call without another word.
I turned back to the table, grabbing my jacket and keys in one fluid motion.
“Mr. Rossi,” one of the directors started, half-rising from his chair, “but we are yet to finalize the—”
“I don’t give a fucking damn,” I snapped, already heading for the door. “My wife is having our baby. The meeting is over. Handle it.”
I didn’t wait for responses. I strode out of the conference room, ignoring the stunned silence behind me, and broke into a near-run toward the elevator. Nothing else mattered. Not millions. Not deadlines. Not the empire.
Only Brielle.
Only our child.
The drive to Mount Sinai was a haze of blurred city lights and honking horns. I broke every traffic law imaginable, weaving through cars with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping my phone, silently willing it to give me good news. My pulse hammered in my ears. I had faced betrayals, boardroom wars, and life-shattering revelations, but nothing had ever prepared me for this level of raw, primal fear.
What if something went wrong?
What if she was in pain and I wasn’t there to hold her hand?
What if our baby—
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, jaw clenched, forcing myself to breathe through it.
When I finally burst through the hospital doors, my shirt was rumpled, hair disheveled, eyes wild with panic. A nurse recognized me immediately and rushed me down the corridor.
“Mr. Rossi, your wife is in delivery room three. She’s doing well, but she’s been asking for you constantly.”
I pushed through the door and the world narrowed to one person.
Brielle.
She was on the bed, face flushed and glistening with sweat, hair sticking to her forehead in damp strands. But when her eyes met mine, a tired, radiant smile broke across her face despite the pain.
“Damien,” she breathed, reaching for me with trembling fingers.
I was at her side in an instant, dropping to my knees beside the bed and taking both her hands in mine. I pressed frantic kisses to her knuckles, her forehead, her lips…anything to let her know I was here.
“I’m here, Luna. I’m right here. I’m so sorry I wasn’t earlier.”
“You’re here now,” she whispered, squeezing my hands as another contraction hit. Her face tightened, a low groan escaping her, but she kept her eyes locked on mine. “That’s all that matters.”
I stayed glued to her side through every wave of pain, wiping her forehead with a cool cloth, whispering words of love and strength into her ear. “You’re so strong, baby. I’m so proud of you. I love you more than anything.”
The doctor, a calm woman in her fifties, glanced at me during a brief lull.
“Mr. Rossi, we’re about to move into the final stage. It might be best if you step outside for a few minutes while we prepare—”
“No,” I said immediately, my voice firm and unyielding. I didn’t even look away from Brielle. “I’m not leaving her. Not for a second.”
The doctor hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Stay by her head. Hold her hand.”
I did exactly that. I stayed right there, forehead pressed to Brielle’s, murmuring encouragement as the contractions intensified. Every time she cried out, I felt it like a knife in my own chest. I would have taken the pain for her if I could.
“You’re doing so well, my love,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “Our baby is almost here. Just a little more. I’m right here with you.”
After what felt like both forever and no time at all, the doctor’s voice rose with urgency.
“One more big push, Brielle. You’ve got this.”
Brielle gripped my hand with surprising strength, let out a powerful cry, and then—
A sharp, beautiful, life-changing wail filled the room.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor announced warmly, her voice filled with joy. “Healthy, strong, and perfect. Congratulations.”
They placed our daughter on Brielle’s chest immediately. Tiny. Red-faced. Miraculous. Ten perfect fingers. A tuft of dark hair. Eyes squeezed shut as she let out her first powerful cries into the world.
I couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down my face unchecked.
She was so small.
So perfect.
So ours.
Brielle looked up at me through exhausted, glowing eyes, her own tears falling freely.
“Our daughter,” she whispered, voice breaking with wonder.
I leaned down, pressing my forehead to Brielle’s, then gently kissed our baby girl’s forehead with trembling lips.
“I thought I’ve experienced happiness before,” I said, my voice thick and raw with emotion. “I thought I knew what it felt like to love someone with every part of my soul. But nothing… nothing in this world compares to this. Holding both of you. Seeing you together. My wife. My daughter. My family. You two are my entire universe.”
Brielle let out a soft, watery laugh, her fingers brushing our baby’s cheek as the little girl quieted against her chest.
“She’s ours,” she whispered. “All ours.”
I kissed Brielle deeply, then rested my cheek against hers as we both stared in awe at the tiny miracle between us.
In that moment, every battle we had fought, every scar we carried, every dark chapter felt worth it. Because it had led us here—to this room, to this overwhelming, all-consuming love, to this new beginning wrapped in soft blankets and newborn cries.
I had rebuilt empires.
I had faced betrayal and loss.
But nothing had ever felt as powerful, as humbling, or as complete as this single, perfect moment.
“Welcome to the world, my little princess,” I whispered to Aurora, voice cracking. “Your mama and I are going to love you so fiercely. Always. You are so loved.”
As Brielle smiled up at me through happy tears, our daughter’s tiny hand wrapping around my finger, I knew with absolute certainty:
This was the greatest chapter of our story yet.