Chapter 6

Olivia's POV

I rarely set foot in places like this, but a casino that made it into Ethan's little black book had to be something special.

Ethan's eyebrow shot up, his words laced with a familiar venom. "Are you asking for my sake, or for Damien's?"

"So he's really going to be there?" The acidic undertone of his question flew right over my head.

A dull ache flared in my jaw as Ethan's fingers tightened, a vise grip that felt like it could shatter bone. "You're still thinking about him. Of course, you are."

I grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to shove him away. After a moment of tense struggle, my patience snapped. "I was just asking. Is that not allowed?"

Ethan lowered his head in disappointment, brought his lips close to my ear, and whispered, "I don't like that there's still another man in your heart."

A bitter laugh almost escaped me.

Still so possessive. Ethan hadn't changed a bit.

"You can bring other women home, but I can't even ask about another man? Besides, I never got the chance to thank him for helping me out at that party."

Ethan froze for a split second. I seized the opportunity, wrenching myself free.

To avoid another round of his manhandling, I didn't even bother with a goodbye. I just ripped the door open and left.

Sitting in my car, I couldn't bring myself to start the engine. Ethan's face was seared into my mind.

His voice echoed in my ears. If I were right, Damien would definitely be at that casino.

A quick search confirmed it. The place had been around for over thirty years, a legendary haunt for generations of mobsters.

This was my chance.

My fingers tightened around the manila envelope holding the IVF consent forms. This time, I wasn't just going to tell Damien the truth. I was going to make him help me burn Ethan's world to the ground.

The day I went to the casino, I put on a touch of makeup, just enough to be unrecognizable to Ethan. I chose a practical black pantsuit for mobility, sweeping my hair into a messy bun at the nape of my neck. Ethan rarely saw me with makeup; this should be enough of a disguise.

The casino was a chaotic symphony of noise and light. I wasn't worried about bumping into Ethan; he'd never willingly stay anywhere near Damien.

After searching for what felt like forever, I finally spotted him in a quieter corner. Damien was sprawled across a solo booth, his legs parted casually, his head thrown back against the plush leather. The top three buttons of his black shirt were undone, revealing the faint, hard lines of his abs under the dim, moody lighting. The shadows softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look less like a predator and more gentle.

He held a glass of red wine, but strangely, a wisp of steam curled from its rim.

A blond man was kneeling between his legs, head tilted up, lips moving as he trembled and pleaded.

Just as I drew closer, Damien's leg shot out, his shoe planting firmly on the man's shoulder. Then, he tipped his hand, pouring the entire glass of steaming wine over the man's head.

A strangled scream was swallowed by the casino's din.

The scalding liquid streamed down the man's face, and he gasped, shuddering from the searing heat.

Damien leaned down, patting the man's cheek, his voice as calm as if he were reviewing a movie. "This is what happens when you betray me."

My breath hitched. The cloying, sweet smell of heated alcohol and fear churned in my stomach, and I fought the urge to gag.

Suddenly, a thick arm snaked around me. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Damien…"

The goon gave me zero chance to explain, dragging me forward and shoving me roughly toward Damien's booth.

"Let go of me!" There was no way I was kneeling for Damien in a place like this.

Damien's head lifted, his gaze locking onto mine. A flicker of something—the sharp, focused interest of a cheetah spotting its prey—danced in his dark eyes.

He crooked a finger at the man holding me. "Let her go."

Once free, I rubbed my aching shoulder. Before Damien could speak, I slapped the manila envelope onto the table in front of him. "I'm pregnant."

Damien's brow arched, his expression a blank slate of confusion.

The throb in my shoulder slowly subsided. I met his puzzled stare head-on and pressed forward. "It's yours. The lab results are in here."

I was braced for him to have me thrown out, but he was far calmer than I'd anticipated. Maybe he just found the whole situation amusing.

Damien leaned back into the sofa, draping his arms over the backrest. He tilted his head, studying me with a look of pure, unadulterated curiosity. "The first time we met was at that party."

"Yes."

A laugh rumbled in his chest, dripping with sarcasm that pricked at my skin like a thousand tiny needles. "So, riddle me this: how exactly did you get pregnant with my child?"

A hot wave of shame washed over me. If I weren't so desperate for his help, I would have spun on my heel and walked out right then. 

But he was my baby's father, and he was the only one powerful enough to get me out of this sham of a marriage. I had to take the gamble.

I opened the envelope and held the report up for him to see. "They mixed up the samples. And now, I'm carrying your baby."

I had no idea if he'd believe me, but the moment the words left my mouth, the air around us turned ice-cold.

Damien's eyes narrowed. He was a beast lying in wait, silently assessing his prey from the shadows.

I swallowed hard, trying to fight the suffocating pressure of his gaze. My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't read him at all.

If Damien didn't buy it, my only other option was to drag Aiden in front of him to explain. But that was a long shot. The kid would probably be so terrified he'd forget his own name, and Damien would just assume he was some actor I'd hired.

Damien's POV

I did leave a sample at the clinic last month.

But this was too much of a coincidence.

A woman I'dnever met, pregnant with my child because of some doctor's screw-up? She had guts, I'd give her that.

I took the report from her hand, my eyes scanning the page. "And how do I know this is real?"

"I swear on my life."

"Your life?" The woman was laughably naive.

My hand came up, cupping the back of her neck. I guided her head, forcing her to look at the blond man, now a pathetic, whimpering heap on the floor. "See him? He betrayed me, and now he's half-dead. That's a rule that applies to everyone."

I leaned closer, my breath ghosting her cheek. "Are you still so sure this baby is mine?" I asked, my voice a low, deliberate taunt.

"I have no reason to lie to you. You can read the report."

"A report?" I scoffed. "Anyone with a doctor friend knows how easy it is to fake one of these."

I pretended to read, but my real focus was on her face, watching her expression in my periphery.

She looked furious, but she didn't offer any more explanations. It was almost as if her only goal was to inform me of her pregnancy, and nothing more.

"Believe what you want," she said, her voice tight. "I just thought you had a right to know. You're the father, after all."

"So, if I do nothing, that's fine with you?"

She fell silent, a flicker of raw desperation in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

I rose to my feet and stood before her, tilting her chin up to force her gaze to meet mine. "You flagged down my car the other day. Was it about this?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice surprisingly steady.

My thumb traced the delicate line of her eyebrow. "You have eyes that don't know how to lie."

Olivia's hand shot up, grabbing my wrist. "So you believe me?" She asked, a note of urgency in her voice.

"How can I believe you based on a single piece of paper?" I dipped my head, chuckling softly beside her ear. "Countless women have tried to tie themselves to me. They've tried everything."

"I'm not lying."

"We'll find out soon enough if you are."

I kept the report. Seeing she wasn't leaving, I added, "Since you're pregnant, you should go home and rest. I'll have someone see you out."

After arranging for Olivia's departure, I picked up the report again, reading every single word.

"Looks pretty legit," Eli commented, leaning over my shoulder. "Mr. Costello, should I look into it?"

"Of course," I said, my voice flat. "I want you to verify this report, and I want you to dig up everything on this woman. Everything."

I was going to find out exactly what she was after, coming to me with a story like this.