The Billionaire and the Hidden Heiress

“Not again with your ridiculous suspicions,” Damian snapped. “It’s not what you think at all!”

“Then explain this to me,” I shot back. “You and Nathaniel both drove tonight, so why did it have to be you who took her home?”

A flash of irritation crossed his face before he let out a long breath. “Emilia, are you seriously being jealous of Adriana again? How many times do I need to repeat myself? I only see her as family.”

“She’s alone in this city,” he went on smoothly. “Separated from her partner, raising a child by herself. How can you not feel even a little compassion? She and I grew up together. I won’t abandon her when she needs help.”

“If she’s truly struggling,” I countered, stepping out of his grip, “then why is she so eager to merge your company with ours? Does she even understand how dangerous that move is for you?”

Damian looked displeased but softened his tone as he tried to pacify me. “You should stop involving yourself in things you don’t understand. Stay at home and focus on what you’re good at. Once both corporations merge, our influence will double. It’s a strategic advantage.”

He stepped closer, pressing a light kiss to my forehead as he held my hand. “Don’t exhaust your mind over this, Emilia. You’re about to become a mother. If you’re always this suspicious, how will you raise our child properly?”

I smiled faintly at that—at the man I’d been married to for three years, who still didn’t even know that I had already lost our baby because of his neglect.

“Wasn’t it you,” I said softly, “who told your friends that because I grew up without parents, I wouldn’t know how to raise a child—and that Adriana would have to teach me?”

The color drained from his face.

“Were you spying on me?” he barked. “You misunderstood everything! I was drunk that night—I didn’t even know what I was saying. I never meant it that way.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but his phone rang suddenly. Victoria’s name flashed across the screen.

He hesitated—until I nodded for him to answer.

The moment he picked up, a child’s cheerful voice spilled through the speaker.

“Daddy! I miss you! When are you coming to play with me and Mommy? When will you both come back?”

Horror crept across Damian’s face when he realized I had heard every word.

“Mark,” he said quickly, forcing a gentle tone, “you should call me your uncle, not that.”

“Why?” the boy asked innocently. “Mommy said I could call you my dad.”

Damian stiffened before hurriedly responding, “Your mother is with me right now. We’ll be back soon.”

Then he ended the call.

“Emilia—”

I was too emotionally drained to argue anymore.

With empty eyes, I nodded. “You can do whatever you want.”

I turned to leave, but he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

“You just don’t know how to adapt,” he murmured. “I can’t always cater to your emotions. But from now on, I’ll stay close and help take care of our baby.”

He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss against my cheek.

---

I hadn’t even made it home yet when a message from Nathaniel popped up on my phone:

[ Sister-in-law, Adriana is severely ill. Damian won’t be coming home tomorrow. ]

Tomorrow, Damian was supposedly hosting a grand welcome banquet for Adriana’s company. Since I had openly opposed the corporate merger, it was clear now—my presence was never part of his plans.

My hands trembled as I stared at the screen.

Then I opened social media.

Adriana’s post was the first thing I saw:

“Shopping for tomorrow’s celebration—trying to find matching outfits for my two favorite men.”

The photo showed my husband holding her son in his arms while Adriana leaned affectionately against his shoulder.

My vision blurred.

“Ma’am, look down!” the driver suddenly shouted in terror.

My tears stopped instantly as I lifted my head—just in time to see a massive truck barreling straight toward us. The steering wheel jerked sharply, but it was already too late.

The collision came with a deafening crash.

The car flipped violently, metal screeching, glass shattering.

“Mom… Dad… Brother…”

Fragments of my past flashed through my mind like broken scenes from a film.

Blood streamed down my shoulder as I shakily lifted my phone and dialed the one number I had been too ashamed to call for years.

My father answered on the first ring, his voice stern—but edged with concern.

“Emilia? Why are you calling now—”

“D-Dad…” My breathing was erratic. I could barely force the words out.

“I’m s-so sorry… for letting you and Mom down. I love you all…”

The phone slipped from my fingers as darkness closed in.

I welcomed it quietly—without once thinking about the people who had turned my life into a living hell.

Through fading consciousness, I heard my father’s desperate voice echo through the line:

“Emilia! Emilia! Where are you?! Answer me! Where are you, my daughter?!”