THE WRONG MAN'S BABY

Ariana's POV The city night presses against me the second I storm out of the restaurant. Neon signs blur with my tears, car horns blare from the street, and I'm moving so fast my heels clatter like gunfire against the pavement. Humiliation still burns on my skin. Everyone in that restaurant saw me. Everyone heard me scream that I'm pregnant. Phones were recording. By tomorrow morning, I'll be a headline, a meme, a scandal splashed across gossip sites. And for what? Because I trusted the wrong man. No. Not even the wrong man. The wrong brother. I stop under a streetlamp, chest heaving. My hand slides to my stomach, trembling as I press against the small swell that's not showing yet but feels so heavy it could crush me. "You didn't deserve this," I whisper. My throat closes. "You didn't ask to be born into this mess." "Wait." That voice. I whip around, and there he is. Damian Cole. Striding toward me like he owns the whole damn street, the city, the world. Even now, after everything, he looks composed. His tie loosened, his jacket open, but every step is controlled, precise. "Stay back." My voice shakes, but I throw my hand up like a barrier. "Don't come near me." He stops a few feet away, slipping his hands into his pockets. His eyes catch the streetlight-icy blue, sharp, unforgiving. "You shouldn't be walking around out here alone. It's late." I laugh, harsh and bitter. "Oh, so now you're worried about my safety? Where was that concern when I was in there telling the world I'm pregnant with your brother's baby?" His expression doesn't change. His voice drops, low and steady. "You humiliated me in there." My stomach twists. "You think I enjoyed that? You think I liked standing in the middle of that circus, screaming something so personal it broke me to say it out loud?" He doesn't answer. He just watches me, unreadable. I take a shaky step forward. "You could've told me. You could've stopped me before I slapped you, before I made a fool of myself in front of everyone." "You didn't give me the chance." His tone is flat, cutting. "You came in with your accusations, shouting, hitting. What was I supposed to do? Smile and let you wreck me?" My voice cracks. "I didn't know. I didn't know you had a twin. He never said a word. Do you have any idea what that means?" His jaw flexes. "It means my brother seduced you, lied to you, and left you with the fallout. And now you've dragged me into it." Dragged. The word slices through me. I whisper, raw, "You make it sound like I asked for this. Like I wanted to be here." His silence is heavy. "You know what's funny?" My laugh is hollow. "When I walked into that restaurant, I thought facing you was the hardest thing I'd ever do. But it turns out, you weren't even the man I was looking for. I was screaming at the wrong damn person." Damian's gaze flickers, just briefly, down to my stomach. When his eyes lift back to mine, they're hard again. "By morning, it'll be everywhere. The story. The videos. My name tied to yours. My company dragged through the mud because of a mistake my brother made." I blink at him. "That's what you care about? Your empire? Your clean reputation?" "That reputation," he says, clipped, "is what keeps thousands of employees in jobs. It's what keeps the empire my family built standing." I step closer, shaking with rage. "I don't care about your empire. I care about this baby. I care about not being humiliated and abandoned because your brother used me like I didn't matter." For the first time, something cracks in his expression. A shadow. Maybe guilt. Maybe pity. But it's gone as fast as it came. "Listen to me," he says quietly. "Adrian isn't going to step up. He never does. He'll deny everything, laugh at you, and walk away without looking back." My throat tightens. "So what are you saying? That I should just accept it? Raise this child alone?" He doesn't answer. His silence is louder than a shout. I wrap my arms protectively around myself, fury bubbling hot. "I'll find him. I'll make him look me in the eye and take responsibility." Damian shakes his head slowly. "You'll regret it." "Maybe I will," I snap. "But at least I'll try. At least I won't just stand there, cool and detached, pretending none of this matters." His voice sharpens, steel slicing through the night. "If you trust Adrian again, even for a second, he'll destroy you." I lift my chin, glaring. "Then maybe I'm already destroyed." We stand there, staring each other down, the night pressing heavy between us. Finally, he exhales through his nose, controlled, deliberate. "What's your name?" The question catches me off guard. I square my shoulders. "Ariana Blake." His gaze lingers on me like he's memorizing it. "Go home, Miss Blake. Get some rest. You'll need it." My fists clench. "Don't you dare pretend you care. You don't." His eyes flick down to my stomach again, softer this time, before he looks back at me. His voice is low, almost rough. "You're right. I don't." The words slice through me like glass. I turn away before he can see the tears spilling down my cheeks. I don't look back. I can't. Because if I do, I'm afraid I'll see something in Damian Cole's eyes that terrifies me more than Adrian ever could.