The soft glow of dawn spilled through the curtains, painting the bedroom in shades of gold. Damian stirred awake before Amara did, his first instinct-as always now-to glance at her. She slept peacefully beside him, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, her lips parted slightly in soft breaths. His chest tightened with a mix of awe and relief. She was here, safe, and carrying their child.
Moving carefully so he wouldn't wake her, Damian slid out of bed. He grabbed a robe and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The staff were already preparing for the day, but he waved them aside.
"I'll handle this," he said in his usual commanding tone. The maids exchanged startled glances but quickly obeyed.
Damian wasn't a man known for domestic skills, yet he was determined. He laid out fresh bread, fruit, and eggs. The chef stepped forward quietly. "Sir, allow me to guide you so it comes out well for Madam Amara."
Damian gave a curt nod, and with the chef's discreet assistance, he managed to prepare a tray: warm toast with honey, scrambled eggs done softly, fresh orange juice, and sliced strawberries arranged neatly on a porcelain plate. He added a single rose in a slim vase, his personal touch.
By the time he returned upstairs, Amara was just waking. She rubbed her eyes and blinked when she saw him entering with the tray.
"Damian... what are you doing?" she asked, her voice still husky with sleep.
"Taking care of my queen," he replied simply, setting the tray over her lap. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, my love."
Her cheeks flushed as she looked at the carefully arranged breakfast. "You didn't have to..."
"I did," he cut her off gently, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Because you and our baby deserve it."
Amara's heart melted. She picked up a strawberry, but before she could take a bite, Damian took it from her fingers and fed it to her instead. She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're spoiling me too much."
"Get used to it," he murmured with a smile.
After breakfast, Damian sat beside her while she ate, watching her every movement as if he needed to memorize the sight. When she set the tray aside, he slid his hand over hers.
"Stay home today," he said in a low voice. "The office can wait. I don't want you stressing yourself."
Amara squeezed his hand gently. "Damian, I can't just sit around. I'll go crazy if I do nothing. Work helps me feel normal. And besides, I'm fine. You don't have to worry so much."
He frowned. "You think I can stop worrying? After everything that's happened? Amara, you carry my world inside you now. I don't want to risk anything."
Her heart swelled at his words, but she leaned closer, brushing her lips against his cheek. "I promise I'll be careful. But please... let me keep working. I want to stand beside you, not hide behind you."
Damian sighed, torn between his protective instincts and her determination. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Fine. But you'll take Eric with you everywhere. And if you feel even the slightest discomfort, you call me immediately."
"Yes, sir," she teased softly, and he couldn't help but laugh, pulling her into his arms.
He held her for a long moment, stroking her hair. "I love you, Amara. More than you'll ever understand."
"I love you too, Damian," she whispered, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of his embrace.
When they finally got ready for the day, Damian personally picked out her outfit-a soft blue dress paired with matching flats. "No heels," he insisted firmly. "Not anymore."
She pouted playfully but gave in, touched by how much thought he put into every detail.
As they walked downstairs together, his hand never left hers. Even when Eric greeted them at the car, Damian opened the door for her and helped her inside gently, as if she were the most delicate thing in the world.
For Amara, it wasn't just his wealth or his power that made her heart belong to him-it was this side of him. The man who cooked her breakfast, chose her shoes, and held her as though she was irreplaceable.
The ride to the office was quiet, but not in a heavy way. Damian's hand remained firmly wrapped around Amara's as if reassuring her that everything would be fine. Still, Amara couldn't shake the awareness that not everyone would celebrate their happiness.
When they stepped out of the car, eyes followed them immediately. Whispers buzzed in corners, some filled with admiration, others with envy. Amara kept her chin high, repeating Damian's words in her head-you're my queen, you belong by my side.
Inside the building, Eric was waiting near the elevator, holding a folder. "Sir, there's something you should know," he said cautiously. "Mr. Simon Glover is already here. He seems... furious."
Damian's jaw tightened, but he kept walking, pulling Amara gently along with him. "Good. Let him wait. He'll learn today where I stand."
When they entered Damian's office, the air felt heavy. Mr. Glover stood by the window, his face dark with anger. Clara was beside him, her arms folded, her eyes flashing with triumph as if she had been waiting for this confrontation.
"So it's true," Mr. Glover snapped, his voice echoing in the room. "You're engaged to her? Your secretary?" His finger stabbed the air in Amara's direction. "Have you lost your mind, Damian?"
Amara's stomach knotted, but Damian stepped in front of her, his arm protectively around her waist. His voice was calm but edged with steel. "Watch your tone, Mr. Glover. She is not just my secretary-she is my fiancée, and soon she will be my wife."
Mr. Glover's face reddened. "This is unacceptable! We had an understanding, Damian. Our families-our companies-were supposed to unite through Clara. And now you throw that away for... for this girl? Do you know what kind of insult this is to me, to my family?"
Damian's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, I don't care about your so-called arrangements. I don't do business through forced marriages. My personal life is mine alone, and I've made my choice."
Clara stepped forward, her voice dripping with venom. "She's using you, Damian. Can't you see? She knows nothing about our world, our power. She's just a gold digger hiding behind a sweet smile."
Amara flinched, but before she could speak, Damian's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Enough." His glare froze Clara where she stood. "If you ever insult her again, not even your father's name will protect you from the consequences."
Silence fell. Mr. Glover's jaw clenched, his fists trembling with restrained fury. "You'll regret this, Damian. You're turning away from a partnership that could have secured your empire for generations. And all for... for love?" He spat the word as if it were poison.
Damian met his glare without hesitation. "Yes. For love. For Amara. If that costs me every deal you've ever dangled in front of me, so be it."
Mr. Glover's face hardened. He grabbed Clara by the arm. "We're leaving. But mark my words, Damian-you'll regret defying me."
The door slammed behind them, leaving the room vibrating with tension.
Amara turned to Damian, her eyes wide with worry. "Damian... you just threw away a powerful alliance because of me."
He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I didn't throw anything away. I gained everything when I chose you. Don't ever doubt that."
Her chest tightened, tears brimming in her eyes, but Damian kissed them away before they could fall.
For the first time that morning, Amara believed him completely.
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