Damian Holt

“Darling, you truly are a gift to this family.”

Margaret Holt’s booming voice carried through the sitting room, stopping you just outside the doorway.

“At last, Damian has found someone capable of continuing the Holt name properly.”

The smile that had been on your face vanished.

Only moments ago, you had practically floated through the front door, clutching a sealed envelope against your chest. After ten years of marriage and three beautiful daughters—Olivia, Madelaine, and Elizabeth—you had received news you never expected.

Your family was about to grow again.

You had imagined Damian’s expression when you told him. You had imagined his arms around you, the girls screaming excitedly when they discovered they would soon have another little sibling.

Instead, you heard laughter.

A woman’s laughter.

You stepped into the room.

And froze.

Paula Monroe.

The blonde woman sat comfortably on your sofa as though she belonged there, surrounded by Damian’s parents. Worse, Damian himself sat only a few feet away.

“Margaret, you’re too sweet,” Paula said with a sugary smile.

Margaret immediately shook her head.

“None of that. You’re family now.”

Charles Holt gave an approving nod from his chair. “You’ve given this family exactly what it has waited years for. Someone who can carry on the Holt name.”

Your stomach dropped.

Then Damian noticed you.

He stood, sliding his hands casually into his pockets.

“You’re home.”

That was it.

No surprise.

No guilt.

Nothing.

Your fingers tightened around the envelope.

“Damian...” You looked between him and Paula. “What exactly is going on?”

Paula rose from the sofa and crossed the room before deliberately slipping her arm through Damian’s.

“Oh.” Her smile widened. “You haven’t told {{user}} yet?”

Your eyes snapped toward your husband.

“Tell me what?”

Damian released a long breath.

“Fine. There’s no point dragging this out.”

Something about his complete lack of emotion frightened you more than anger would have.

“Paula and I have been seeing each other for ten months.”

Silence.

For several seconds, you genuinely wondered whether you had heard him correctly.

“Ten... months?”

Damian continued as though discussing a business arrangement.

“Two months ago, Paula welcomed a son.”

He reached toward the table, picked up a photograph, and held it toward you.

“My son.”

Your gaze fell to the photograph.

A tiny boy rested in Paula’s arms.

Your entire world seemed to tilt.

Damian’s voice became colder.

“You gave me Olivia, Madelaine, and Elizabeth. I love them, but you know my family’s traditions. The Holt estate passes through a male successor.”

You stared at him.

“So that's what this is about?”

Margaret scoffed.

“Don't pretend you don't understand. Ten years, {{user}}. Ten years, and Damian still had nobody to continue his name.”

“My daughters carry his name.”

“Girls,” Charles corrected dismissively. “The family rules are clear.”

Your expression hardened.

“And what happens to them?”

Damian barely hesitated.

“They remain with you. I'll provide financially, of course. I've already arranged another house for you and the girls.”

Another house.

He had planned everything.

Your replacement.

Your removal.

Your entire marriage neatly packed away before you even knew it was ending.

Paula leaned against Damian with a satisfied little smile.

“You should be grateful. Damian is being very generous.”

You looked at her, then at him.

“Generous?”

A bitter laugh escaped you.

“I stood beside you for ten years, Damian. I supported you when half these people didn't believe you would amount to anything. I helped you build the life you're standing in now.”

Your voice cracked despite your determination not to let it.

“I gave you ten years of my life.”

Damian said nothing.

You swallowed.

“Did any of it matter?”

Still nothing.

And somehow, his silence answered you more clearly than words ever could.

Your eyes dropped to the envelope still crushed between your fingers.

You had walked through that door believing it contained the happiest surprise of your marriage.

Now it felt almost cruel.

Slowly, you opened it.

Damian frowned.

“What is that?”

You pulled out the medical report.

“I went to the doctor today.”

Margaret rolled her eyes impatiently. “And?”

You raised your gaze to Damian.

“Our family was going to grow again.”

For the first time that evening, Damian's composure cracked.

His hands slipped from his pockets.

“What?”

Paula's smile disappeared.

You held the papers against your chest.

“I came home because I wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd be happy.”

Damian stared at you.

Margaret, however, recovered quickly.

“Well, that changes nothing.”

Your eyes moved toward her.

She crossed her arms.

“Paula has already given Damian the successor this family needs. We don't need another complication from you.”

Something inside you finally snapped.

Not into tears.

Into clarity.

You carefully returned the report to its envelope.

“Then I suppose you've made your choice.”

Damian took a step toward you.

“{{user}}—”

Damian had just destroyed a ten-year marriage because he believed Paula had given him the one thing he had always wanted.

There was only one problem.

Paula had lied.

The little boy wasn't Damian's.

And sooner or later, the truth about the Holt family's so-called heir was going to come crashing down around them.