Chapter 138

Vanessa's POV

The tires screeched over the gravel as the car rolled through the Blackwood gates, the sound was sharp and unrelenting, far louder than Vanessa remembered it ever being. She sat rigid in the back seat, hands folded neatly in her lap, back stiff against the leather. The gates closed behind them with a heavy finality and the sound of the iron made her flinch despite herself.

Vanessa noticed everything now. The way the fountain’s water splashed too loudly, the way the driver’s eyes met hers briefly in the rearview mirror before darting away, the way Damian sat quietly beside the driver.

Her heart was pounding so hard she was certain everyone in the car could hear it, like a frantic rhythm beating against her ribs, against her throat. She swallowed, forcing her breathing to slow, but fear had already taken root, curling tight and cold around her insides.

The car came to a stop. A guard opened the door, polite as always, but Vanessa barely registered him. She stepped out, heels touching the gravel, her movements careful, measured. She straightened her back automatically, lifting her chin, slipping into the posture that had always protected her.

But anyone watching closely would have seen it. The slight delay before she moved, the tension in her shoulders, the way her hand trembled for a split second before she clenched it into a fist.

She walked into the mansion without looking back. Vanessa moved quickly toward her room, passing staff members who greeted her softly. She responded with faint smiles, nods, the practiced warmth she had perfected over the years.

None of them needed to know she was disturbed.

The moment she shut her bedroom door behind her, the control she’d been clinging to wavered. Vanessa leaned back against the wood, her palm pressing flat against her chest as she struggled to draw in air.

“Slow down, breathe.” she said to herself.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, erratic and wild. She squeezed her eyes shut, counting silently until the room stopped spinning.

She crossed to the window and parted the curtains just enough to look out onto the grounds. The afternoon light spilled across the lawn, everything looked deceptively calm. Somewhere in the distance, she heard voices, laughter—life continuing as though nothing had shifted.

But it had.

The courtroom replayed itself in her mind without mercy. Reed’s calm voice, Dr. Halver’s hesitation, and that cursed mention of surveillance footage.

Vanessa’s nails dug into her palm.

A knock sounded, light but insistent. She startled, spinning toward the door before forcing herself to relax her posture. Another knock followed, gentler.

“Yes?” she called, her voice smooth again, controlled.

The door opened, and one of the maids stepped in, followed closely by another carrying her baby. Vanessa’s breath caught at the sight of him, his face peaceful in sleep.

“There you are, ma’am,” the maid said softly. “We brought him as soon as you returned.”

Vanessa nodded and reached for the child, cradling him instinctively. The warmth of his tiny body grounded her, soothed the frantic edge of her thoughts.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You may go.” The maids left, closing the door behind them.

Alone again, Vanessa lowered herself onto the bed, holding her son close. She brushed a finger along his cheek, watching him stir slightly before settling.

“You’re fine,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “Everything is fine, I'll not be caught.”

She fed him slowly his milk, carefully, forcing her movements to remain gentle and unhurried. When he finished, she rocked him until his breathing deepened, until his small body relaxed completely against her.

After placing him gently in his crib, Vanessa stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water against her face. She stared at her reflection, studying the woman looking back at her.

She gripped the edge of the sink, as she could feel an episode of panic attack coming.

“They don’t have proof yet.” she repeated like a mantra.

Still, her chest tightened as the courtroom memories surged again—Reed’s methodical dismantling, the way Dr. Halver had looked startled, the way fear had crawled up her spine when she realized just how much had been uncovered.

Her breathing grew shallow.

Vanessa closed her eyes, forcing the panic down, swallowing it whole.

A soft knock came at the door. Her heart leapt violently before she steadied herself.

“Yes?” she called again.

The door opened, and a maid stepped inside. “Mr. Blackwood would like to see you, ma’am.”

Vanessa closed her eyes briefly.

Of course he would.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she said, her tone composed.

The maid nodded and left.

Vanessa exhaled slowly, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She reached for a light coat, draping it over her shoulders as though it might shield her from what awaited her. One last glance at her sleeping son, then she straightened and walked out.

The study felt colder than usual, Damian stood near the desk, his back to her, hands braced against the surface. He didn’t turn immediately when she entered, and that alone unsettled her more than any raised voice would have.

“You wanted to see me?” Vanessa asked softly.

He turned then, and the look in his eyes made her breath hitch. It wasn’t anger—not entirely. It was something sharper, darker. Disappointment laced with fury.

“Sit,” Damian said.

She did.

Silence stretched between them, it was thick and suffocating.

“You were very quiet in court today,” he said at last.

Vanessa tilted her head slightly. “I didn’t think speaking would help anyone.”

Damian’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t look surprised.”

Her pulse spiked. “Why would I?”

He stepped closer. “Because things aren’t adding up.”

She met his gaze steadily. “Nothing ever does when people want someone to blame.”

“That’s interesting,” Damian said quietly. “Because Reed seems very convinced there’s more to this.”

Vanessa let out a small, bitter laugh. “Reed has always liked playing hero.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t deflect.”

Her composure cracked, just a little. “I did everything for you, why am I being interrogated?”

The words slipped out sharper than she intended.

Damian stiffened. “This isn’t about—”

“It is about you,” Vanessa snapped, standing abruptly. “Everything I did was for you, for us. For this family you said you wanted.”

His voice dropped. “Did you tamper with that test?”

Her breath hitched, for a split second. She laughed instead. “You think I’m capable of that?”

Damian stared at her, searching her face. “I think you’re capable of a lot more than you let on.”

Something inside her snapped.

“You’re ungrateful,” Vanessa hissed. “After everything I sacrificed. After everything I endured.”

Damian’s eyes hardened. “What did you sacrifice, Vanessa?”

Her voice rose, raw and unguarded. “Everything! My pride. My body. My dignity.”

She was shaking now, anger and fear tangling together.

“I even went as far as sleeping with that scum, just to get pregnant—”

The words fell into the room like shattered glass.

Vanessa froze.

Damian stared at her, the world tilting violently beneath his feet as the confession echoed in the now silent room.