Chapter 135

Chapter 135
Damian's POV

The second hearing came faster than he expected. A week was not enough time for his mind to settle, not enough time for the anger to fully burn out, not enough time for doubt to stop circling. If anything, the days between the first sitting and this one had sharpened everything. The silence in the mansion had grown louder, the routine had become mechanical. He woke up, worked, returned home, and avoided entire wings of the house without consciously meaning to.

Evelyn’s absence no longer felt like a decision, it felt like a scar, like a grave mistake.

That morning, he dressed carefully, deliberately. He wore a navy blue suit, perfectly ironed shirt with no tie at first, then he added it anyway. He refused to walk into that courtroom looking like a man who had already lost something he couldn’t name.

Reed had stopped showing up at the mansion, they only meet at the office, and he doesn't even speak much to him, unlike before the case. And Gregory? He acted like Damian was non-existent. And that alone made him realize that he had done something he shouldn't.

The driver took him through traffic that felt slower than usual, the city unfolding around them in a way Damian barely registered. His mind was already ahead, replaying fragments from the first hearing. The judge’s neutral tone, the way the opposing counsel had laid out facts without emotion. The way Evelyn had sat there, straight-backed, hands folded, saying nothing unless asked.

She hadn’t even looked at him, that alone bothered him more than anger would have.

When the car pulled up outside the courthouse, Damian stepped out and adjusted his cufflinks, his jaw tight. Cameras weren’t allowed inside, but he could feel the presence of eyes anyway—clerks, lawyers, strangers who didn’t know him personally, but knew his name and sensed the tension around him.

Inside, the air was cooler. He checked in, followed directions, and took his seat when instructed. The room wasn’t large, but it was formal enough to demand attention. This time, he noticed everything—the wood, stone, flags and every other thing that exists in the room.

Evelyn entered with her counsel—Reed.
Damian’s fingers curled slightly against his knee before he forced them still.
He had known Reed was representing her. He had seen it the previous week, but seeing it again—Reed pulling out a chair for her, leaning down to murmur something quietly, professional but protective—hit differently now.

Evelyn looked steadier, she wore a simple outfit. No jewelry beyond what was necessary, her hair was pulled back neatly. She didn’t look like someone trying to impress a court, she looked like someone who had nothing to hide.

That thought irritated him immediately.
The judge entered, proceedings began, and Damian straightened, forcing his attention forward.

This sitting was procedural, but heavier. Evidence submission, preliminary clarifications, requests granted and denied, no dramatics, no shouting, just words that carried consequences.

The first bomb dropped quietly, Reed stood and requested permission to submit supplemental evidence obtained independently, citing concerns over the reliability of the Jersey City lab’s report. Damian’s chest tightened at that.

The judge allowed it. Reed spoke calmly, clearly, outlining how, following the first hearing, Evelyn—on legal advice—had consented to an independent DNA test conducted at a separate, accredited facility with no prior connection to any party involved.

Damian felt the shift before the words landed.
The report had been completed, the results had been conclusive.
He kept his face neutral, he had perfected that skill years ago. But something cold slid down his spine as Reed continued.

“The results show a 99.9 percent probability that the minor, Jayden Blackwood, is biologically related to Mr. Damian Blackwood.”

The room did not erupt, no gasps, no murmurs, just silence. Like everyone was trying to digest what had just happened.
The kind of silence that presses inward.

Damian didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe for a second too long.

His lawyer shifted slightly beside him, clearly caught off guard. That alone told Damian this hadn’t been anticipated on their side.

The judge acknowledged the submission, reviewed the documentation briefly, and noted that while the court would not make a final ruling at this stage, the contradiction between the two test results warranted deeper investigation.

The word contradiction echoed in Damian’s head like a crack spreading through glass.

His mind raced wildly, if this test was accurate, then the first wasn’t. If the first wasn’t, then… No. He stopped himself.
He had built his life on facts, not hypotheticals.

The hearing continued, requests were made to summon witnesses: Dr Halver from Jersey City, medical staff present during delivery, and the overseeing physician responsible for pre-contract screening.

Dr. Allen’s name was mentioned, Nurse Felicia’s followed.
Damian listened as if from a distance.
He signed off on nothing during that hearing, he objected to nothing personally, his lawyer handled what needed to be handled, but Damian remained quiet, watching, absorbing.

Watching Evelyn, mostly. She sat still, eyes forward, hands folded in her lap. That unsettled him more than anger would have.

When the judge adjourned the session and scheduled the next sitting, Damian stood automatically with everyone else. The sound of chairs shifting felt louder than it should have.

He didn’t look at Evelyn, he wasn’t sure he could yet. Outside the courtroom, the hallway buzzed softly. Lawyers spoke in hushed tones, Clerks moved with purpose. People passed by carrying problems that had nothing to do with his life unraveling.
Reed emerged a few steps ahead of Evelyn.

Carmen was there, standing near the benches, Jayden in her arms.
Damian saw the baby without meaning to.
Jayden’s face was rounder now, fuller. His eyes were open, curious, unfocused in that way infants had. He made a small sound, and Carmen adjusted her hold instinctively.

Something inside Damian shifted painfully.
Evelyn reached them and took Jayden gently, checking his face, his hands, murmuring softly. Her voice didn’t carry, but the familiarity of the movement hit Damian harder than the DNA result had.
That was muscle memory, that was motherhood.

Reed spoke to Carmen briefly, then turned back to Evelyn. Damian couldn’t hear the words, but he saw Evelyn nod once, slow and overwhelmed.

Reed placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, Damian looked away.
He couldn’t stand there and watch this as a spectator to his own life.

He turned down the corridor and left without announcing himself. The drive back felt longer, every red light grated on his nerves, every second felt stretched thin.

By the time he reached the mansion, the weight in his chest had settled into something colder than anger, uncertainty.
He went straight to the study, shut the door, and stood there for a long moment, hands braced against the desk.

Another test had been done, it contradicted everything he had acted on.
He replayed his own decisions with ruthless clarity.
Sending her away, paying her off, refusing to wait, refusing to listen he had believed he was protecting himself.

Now, he wasn’t sure what he had destroyed.

Damian sank into the chair slowly, the room eerily quiet around him. For the first time since this began, a thought surfaced that he could not immediately dismiss.
What if I was wrong?
And worse—
What if being right no longer mattered?
The next hearing would bring witnesses, explanations, accountability.

But sitting there alone, the truth pressed in on him from all sides:
No ruling, no verdict, no courtroom win would undo what he had already done.
He had messed up.