Secrets Unfold
The gala site visit took place at an opulent ballroom nestled just outside the city—gold chandeliers, glass ceilings, and a romantic terrace that overlooked the Hudson River. Ariella arrived early, clipboard in hand, every detail of the layout etched in her mind. She needed this to go flawlessly. She needed distance. Control.
But fate had other plans.
Damien arrived exactly on time, alone, dressed in black slacks and a steel-gray shirt that made him look more dangerous than ever. The moment their eyes met, the air thickened.
"You always show up early," he said quietly.
"I come prepared," she replied, not looking up from her notes. "Shall we walk through the space?"
As they toured the venue, Ariella outlined plans for décor, seating, and entertainment. Damien nodded occasionally, but he wasn't listening—not really. His eyes kept drifting to her face, her hands, the way she kept fidgeting with her bracelet when she was nervous. Same as she used to.
"Where did you go after that night?" he asked abruptly as they walked out onto the terrace.
Ariella froze. She knew this conversation was inevitable. "Home."
"That's not what I meant."
She turned to face him. "Damien, I don't think—"
"Did I hurt you?" he cut in.
She inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "No. You didn't hurt me."
"Then why didn't you reach out?"
"I did!" she snapped. "I emailed your assistant. Told her I needed to speak to you. I never heard back."
His brows furrowed. "I never got that message."
"Doesn't matter now," she muttered, stepping away.
"Yes, it does," he said, moving toward her. "Because I think you're hiding something."
Her heart stuttered. "What would I possibly be hiding?"
He hesitated. "That boy in your photo… on your phone. He looks like me."
Silence.
Ariella's breath caught in her throat.
She didn't answer.
Damien stepped closer, voice low. "Is he mine?"
She couldn't speak. Her tongue felt heavy. Her body screamed to lie, to protect Liam, to keep everything just as it was.
But something in Damien's eyes—anger, yes, but also pain—cut through her defenses.
"Yes," she whispered.
It was barely audible, but he heard it.
His jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides.
"You had my child… and you never told me?"
"I tried, Damien. I really did. But after no reply, I thought—maybe it was better this way. I didn't want Liam to be a scandal. I didn't want him to be rejected."
"Rejected?" he barked. "Do you think I'm that cold?"
She looked at him, tears threatening her composure. "I didn't know who you were. Not really. I only knew the man I spent one night with. Not the billionaire. Not the businessman who shuts people out and buries himself in work. What kind of life would that be for a child?"
Damien turned away, gripping the railing of the terrace. His mind spun.
A son.
He had a son.
He wasn't ready for this. His childhood had been broken. His father had been a tyrant. His mother a ghost in the background. He never wanted to be a parent because he feared becoming like them.
But now, someone existed who had his blood. His eyes.
"His name?" Damien asked, voice hoarse.
"Liam. Liam Brooks."
Damien repeated the name under his breath. "He's three?"
She nodded.
"And smart. Kind. He loves pancakes, dinosaurs, and asking endless questions."
A bitter smile ghosted his lips. "Sounds familiar."
Ariella didn't laugh. Her heart ached. "He deserves to know his father, Damien. But only if you're ready. I won't let you walk in and out of his life. He's too important."
His gaze met hers. "I would never do that."
"Then prove it."
That evening, Damien found himself parked outside a preschool in a quiet Brooklyn neighborhood. He had no plan. No idea what he was even doing there. But something had drawn him.
At 5:02 p.m., Ariella stepped out holding a small backpack and a bouncing, smiling little boy. Damien watched as Liam ran ahead and then turned to wait for his mother, his tiny face lit with joy.
His chest constricted.
That was his son.
When Ariella glanced up and spotted him, her face froze. She looked at Liam, then back at Damien. Her lips tightened, but she nodded.
Damien stepped out of his car slowly.
Liam looked up, curious. "Who's that, Mommy?"
Ariella knelt beside him. "Liam… this is Mr. Damien. He's someone very special."
The boy tilted his head. "He has my eyes."
Damien knelt down. He couldn't believe how much he saw himself in this tiny stranger.
"Hi, Liam," he said softly. "It's very nice to meet you."
Liam smiled, fearless. "Do you like dinosaurs?"
Damien's throat tightened. "I do now."