The warehouse smelled of rust and old smoke. The dim bulbs that flickered overhead cast long shadows on the concrete floor, making the place feel more like a dungeon than a hideout. Amara's heart pounded wildly, every beat echoing in her ears as she was shoved forward.
Her knees hit the ground, pain shooting up her legs, but she didn't care. Instinctively, her arms went around her stomach. She couldn't let them harm her child-not now, not ever.
The men towered over her. Four of them, broad-shouldered, rough, eyes filled with cruelty. One sneered, kicking a rusted chair aside.
"So this is Damian's little treasure," he said with mockery. "Pretty thing. Shame we have to ruin her."
Amara's lips trembled, but she forced herself to look up. "Do what you want to me," she whispered, voice breaking but defiant, "but don't touch my baby."
The men exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. One bent lower, his face inches from hers, his breath stinking of smoke. "Baby?" he taunted. "That's even better. We'll teach Damian what happens when he plays hero."
Terror clawed at her chest, but something stronger rose within her-courage. She shoved his hand away violently, her voice ringing with raw desperation. "Stay away from us!"
Her outburst only enraged them. Another thug grabbed her by the arm, jerking her upward. She cried out, stumbling, still shielding her stomach with her other hand.
Just then, the steel door slammed open. The sound was so loud it silenced even their cruel laughter.
Damian stood there, framed by the doorway, his presence commanding the entire room. His eyes blazed with fury, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.
"Get your filthy hands off her," he growled, his voice low and lethal.
For a moment, the men hesitated. Then one of them smirked. "So the prince came after all. Let's see how well you fight for your princess."
They charged.
The first swung a metal pipe, aiming for Damian's head. Damian ducked just in time, his fist flying upward to smash into the man's jaw. A sickening crack followed as the thug collapsed.
The second lunged with a knife, slicing Damian's forearm, but Damian didn't even flinch. With a roar, he seized the man's wrist, twisted it until the knife clattered to the floor, then elbowed him across the face. Blood spurted as the man staggered backward.
Two more came at once. One tried to circle toward Amara, but Damian saw the movement. "Don't you dare!" he shouted, grabbing the nearest attacker by the collar and slamming him against the wall.
The fourth thug swung wildly at Damian's ribs, landing a blow that made him grunt in pain, but Damian's rage only grew. He turned, eyes blazing, and delivered a brutal kick that sent the man crashing over a table.
Amara watched, trembling, torn between fear and awe. Damian fought like a man possessed, every move sharp and merciless. He was bleeding, panting, but he didn't stop-not until all four men were groaning on the floor, too broken to rise again.
Silence fell. The only sound was Damian's harsh breathing. Slowly, he turned to her. His chest rose and fell, his face hardened from the fight, but the moment his gaze landed on her-his Amara-everything softened.
He rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands trembled as he cupped her face. "Amara," he whispered, voice cracking. "Did they hurt you? Tell me you're okay."
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, then grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to her stomach. Her voice broke as she whispered, "Damian... I'm pregnant."
The words struck him harder than any blade ever could. His breath caught, his entire body freezing. "Pregnant?" he repeated, as if afraid to believe it.
She nodded, her tears falling faster. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but... with everything happening..." Her voice faltered.
Damian pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest, his body shaking with emotion. "My God, Amara," he whispered into her hair, his voice raw with love and desperation. "You're carrying my child... our child. I swear on everything I have-they'll never touch you again. Never."
For the first time since the ordeal began, Amara allowed herself to sob freely. Her tears soaked his shirt, but Damian only held her tighter, as though letting go would mean losing everything.
Minutes passed before he finally lifted her in his arms. She was trembling, exhausted, but she clung to him as he carried her out of the warehouse. His bloodied arm dripped onto the floor, but he didn't care.
Outside, his car waited. Eric rushed forward, eyes wide with shock. "Sir! You're bleeding-what happened?"
"Drive us to the hospital," he say to other driver Damian ordered coldly, not slowing his stride. His eyes were fixed only on Amara, his voice low but unyielding. "He told Eric I want Clara and Serena under surveillance from tonight. This ends now."
Eric nodded quickly, scrambling to obey.
Inside the car, Damian held Amara close, stroking her hair as she leaned against him, her body weak from shock. She closed her eyes, whispering softly, "I was so scared... but when I saw you, Damian... I knew I was safe."
His jaw tightened, his lips pressing to her forehead. "You'll never have to be scared again. I promise you, Amara... I'll protect you and our child with my life."
And as his hand remained firmly on her stomach, a vow silently bound them together-not just as lovers, but as a family.
His jaw tightened, his lips pressing to her forehead. "You'll never have to be scared again. I promise you, Amara... I'll protect you and our child with my life."
The city lights flashed by as the car sped through the night, carrying them away from the nightmare. For the first time, despite the bruises and blood, Amara felt hope flicker in her heart. Damian had found her. He always would.
And as his hand remained firmly on her stomach, a vow silently bound them together-not just as lovers, but as a family.
Damian's phone buzzed in his pocket. Without letting go of Amara, he answered with his free hand. "Eric, update me."
Eric's voice came steady but firm. "Boss, the police have surrounded the area. The thugs are in custody. Serena and Clara tried to deny everything, but I made sure the officers took them too. They're being transported to the station as we speak."
A dangerous calm settled over Damian's features. "Good. Make sure they don't slip through. I want them questioned, every detail recorded. They won't escape this time."
Beside him, Amara shifted weakly. "Serena... and Clara?" Her voice was fragile, but curiosity burned in her eyes.
"They won't hurt you again," Damian said firmly, brushing strands of hair from her face. "Eric and the police have them. All of them."
Amara exhaled shakily, relief mixing with exhaustion. She leaned into him, allowing the comfort of his words to soothe her battered spirit.
Eric continued over the line, "Boss, the thugs are already confessing about the attack. But so far, they refuse to admit Serena and Clara's involvement. Still, with enough pressure, something will break."
Damian's jaw flexed. "Keep the pressure on. I don't care how long it takes. I want proof strong enough to bury them in prison for good."
"Yes, sir." Eric ended the call.
The car sped on, pulling up to the hospital entrance. Damian immediately carried Amara in his arms, his protective grip never faltering. Nurses rushed forward, guiding them into the emergency room.
Even as the doors swung shut behind her stretcher, Damian's mind remained sharp. He had saved Amara tonight, but the war Serena and Clara had declared was far from over.
For now, his focus was Amara and their child. But soon, very soon, Serena and Clara would learn what it meant to cross Damian Knight.