Chapter 4 PLAYING WITH FIRE

The pregnancy test was supposed to be negative.

Scarlett stared at the two pink lines, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped the stick. This wasn't possible. She was on birth control. They'd used protection. The one time they'd-

No. They hadn't.

The night after the opera, after the confrontation with Victoria, after that kiss in the car. She'd woken at two AM to find Damien in her room, standing by her bed like a ghost. "I can't stop thinking about you," he'd said. And she'd pulled him down to her, and they'd broken every rule in the contract.

That was three weeks ago. Three weeks of pretending it hadn't happened. Three weeks of careful distance and professional politeness.

Three weeks, and now this.

"No, no, no," she whispered, taking another test. Then another. All positive.

She was pregnant with Damien Wolfe's baby.

The contract flashed through her mind: *If pregnancy occurs, the contract extends automatically and the settlement increases to fifty million dollars.*

Fifty million. Enough to reclaim her father's legacy ten times over. Enough to destroy Victoria completely. Enough to never worry about money again.

But it also meant being tied to Damien forever. Not twelve months,potentially eighteen years. Co-parenting with a man who'd made it very clear that night three weeks ago was a mistake they'd never repeat.

She sat on the bathroom floor, tests scattered around her, and tried to figure out how to breathe.

A knock on her bedroom door. "Scarlett? We need to leave in ten minutes."

Damien. Of course. They had a charity luncheon, because her life was now an endless performance of public appearances.

"I'll be ready," she called, her voice surprisingly steady.

She shoved the tests into her purse,she'd need to dispose of them carefully, couldn't risk the staff finding them and composed herself. She could do this. She could get through one luncheon without falling apart.

She could tell Damien later. Tonight. After she'd figured out what she wanted to do.

Except "what she wanted" wasn't clear. Part of her was terrified. Part of her was strangely thrilled. And part of her was already calculating how this changed her leverage with Victoria.

She emerged from her room to find Damien waiting in the hallway, looking devastating in a charcoal suit. Their eyes met, and something sparked between them,the same electricity that had been crackling since that night, the tension neither of them acknowledged.

"You look pale," he said. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Fine. Just tired."

"You've been tired a lot lately."

Because she'd been exhausted, nauseous every morning, her breasts tender. All the signs she'd been ignoring, telling herself it was stress.

"I haven't been sleeping well," she said, which wasn't a lie.

His expression softened slightly. "The nightmares again?"

She'd confessed one morning, after he'd found her awake at dawn, that she'd been having dreams about her father's death. He'd been surprisingly gentle about it, even offering to have his doctor prescribe something to help her sleep.

"Yes," she lied. "The nightmares."

They rode to the luncheon in careful silence. Over the past three weeks, they'd perfected the art of being together without really being together. Polite conversation, professional distance, no mention of the night they'd crossed every line they'd drawn.

The charity luncheon was for pediatric cancer research, held at the Plaza. Scarlett smiled and made small talk and tried not to think about the fact that in roughly eight months, she'd have a baby.

Damien's baby.

"You're distracted," he murmured during the speeches, his mouth close to her ear.

"I'm fine."

"You're not. You've barely eaten, you've been staring at nothing for the past ten minutes, and you flinched when someone mentioned babies."

Because a woman at their table had been showing photos of her newborn, cooing about how motherhood was the greatest joy, and Scarlett had felt panic claw up her throat.

"I told you, I'm tired-"

"Scarlett." His hand found hers under the table. "What's wrong?"

Everything. Nothing. The fact that I'm carrying your child and have no idea how to tell you.

"We'll talk later," she said quietly. "Not here."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded.

They made it through the luncheon, through the photo opportunities and the networking and the performance. But the moment they were back in the car, Damien turned to her.

"Tell me what's going on."

"Can it wait until we're home?"

"No. Because you look like you're about to shatter, and I need to know why."

Scarlett looked at him-this man she'd married five weeks ago, this stranger who'd become something more complicated than she'd ever intended. He deserved to know. Even if it changed everything.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

The silence was deafening.

Damien stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned forward and told the driver to raise the privacy screen and circle the block.

"You're sure?" His voice was carefully controlled.

"Three tests. All positive." She pulled one from her purse and showed him. "I know we were careful. I know this wasn't supposed to happen. But that night-"

"We didn't use protection."

"No."

He ran his hands through his hair, a gesture she'd learned meant he was processing something overwhelming. "How far along?"

"Three weeks, I think. I need to see a doctor to confirm."

"I'll arrange it. Today." He was already pulling out his phone. "Private clinic, complete confidentiality. We need to know for certain before we decide-" He stopped. "Before we decide anything."

Before we decide if you want to keep it. The unspoken words hung between them.

"I haven't decided what I want yet," Scarlett said. "I just found out an hour ago. But I needed to tell you before I made any choices."

"The contract," Damien said. "If you're pregnant, it changes everything."

"Fifty million dollars. I know."

"That's not what I meant." He looked at her, and his expression was complicated. "I meant we're talking about a child. My child. Our child. Money is the least important consideration."

"Is it? Because money is the only reason we're married."

"Money was the reason we got married. This is different."

"How?"

"Because a baby isn't a transaction. It's-" He stopped, jaw tightening. "It's a person. A life. Something neither of us planned but both of us would be responsible for."

Scarlett felt tears prick her eyes. Stupid hormones. "I don't know if I can do this. Be a mother. Raise a child in this complicated, messed-up situation we've created."

"You don't have to decide right now."

"Don't I? Every day I wait, it becomes more real. More complicated."

Damien was quiet for a long moment. Then he shifted closer, his hand cupping her face with surprising gentleness. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you. If you want to end the pregnancy, I'll arrange everything and make sure you have the best care. If you want to keep the baby, I'll-" He took a breath. "I'll be there. Not because of the contract. Because it's the right thing to do."

"You don't want children."

"I never said that."

"You did. When we discussed the contract. You said pregnancy would complicate things."

"It does complicate things. That doesn't mean I don't want-" He stopped, seeming to struggle with words. "My father was a terrible parent. Absent, manipulative, more concerned with money than family. I swore I'd never have children because I was terrified of becoming him. But that was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I met someone who might make me want to try." His thumb stroked her cheekbone. "You're not what I expected, Scarlett Wolfe."

Her heart was hammering. "What did you expect?"

"Someone simpler. Someone I could keep at arm's length. Someone who wouldn't make me question every decision I've made for the past decade." His voice dropped. "Someone I wouldn't want to kiss every time I see them."

"Damien-"

"I know. The contract. The rules. The fact that this is supposed to be business." He leaned his forehead against hers. "But that night three weeks ago wasn't business. And whatever happens with this pregnancy, we need to acknowledge that we've already crossed lines we can't uncross."

Scarlett closed her eyes, breathing him in cedar and danger and something that was uniquely him. "What do we do?"

"First, we confirm the pregnancy. Then we figure out what you want. What we both want." He pulled back slightly. "But Scarlett, I need you to know-whatever choice you make, it's yours. I won't pressure you. I won't manipulate you. This is your body, your life, your decision."

The fact that he was giving her complete autonomy made her want to cry harder. She'd expected control, demands, contracts about custody and settlements. Instead, he was offering choice.

"I need time to think," she said.

"Take all the time you need."

"What about the contract? Do we tell the lawyers?"

"Not yet. Not until you decide what you want. If you choose to end the pregnancy, no one ever needs to know. If you choose to keep it, we'll handle the legal implications then." He checked his watch. "I can get you a doctor's appointment for four PM. Will that work?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

They spent the next two hours in careful silence;Damien making calls, arranging the appointment, handling logistics with the efficiency that had built his empire. Scarlett stared out the window and tried to process the fact that her life had just gotten exponentially more complicated.

The clinic was in a discrete building in the West Village. No signs, no public entrance, just a unmarked door that required a code. Inside was luxurious and private,more like a spa than a medical facility.

Dr. Sarah Chen:no relation to David, apparently it was just a common surname,he was fortyish, professional, and completely unflappable. She confirmed the pregnancy with blood tests and an ultrasound.

"You're about four weeks along," she said, showing them a screen with what looked like a tiny blob. "It's very early, but everything looks healthy. Based on your hormone levels, I'd estimate you conceived around three and a half weeks ago."

Four weeks. A month. Scarlett stared at the blob that was apparently going to become a person and felt surreal.

"What are the options?" Damien asked, his hand finding Scarlett's.

Dr. Chen walked them through everything,continuing the pregnancy, medication abortion, surgical abortion. She was factual and non-judgmental, presenting information without pushing any particular choice.

"You don't need to decide today," she said. "But if you're considering termination, sooner is medically easier than later. If you'd like, I can schedule a follow-up appointment for next week and we can discuss it further."

They left with pamphlets and information and a prescription for prenatal vitamins that Scarlett wasn't sure she'd fill.

In the car, Damien said, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that a month ago, I was planning my wedding to Marcus. Now I'm married to you and pregnant with your baby. My life is unrecognizable."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know." She looked at him. "What do you want? Really?"

He was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn't answer. Then: "I want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like."

"That's a non-answer."

"It's the truth. I can't tell you what to do with your body. I won't manipulate you into a choice that serves my interests." He met her eyes. "But if you're asking what I hope you'll choose? I hope you'll keep the baby. Not because of the contract or the money. Because I think you'd be an incredible mother. And because-" He stopped.

"Because what?"

"Because I think I might want this. A family. With you." The admission seemed to cost him something. "Which is insane, since we barely know each other. But there it is."

Scarlett's breath caught. This was real. He was being honest in a way that felt vulnerable and raw.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "Of being a mother. Of being tied to you forever. Of making the wrong choice."

"Fear is reasonable. This is terrifying." He took her hand. "But you're not alone in it. Whatever you decide, I'm here."

The car pulled up to the mansion, and they sat in silence for a moment.

"I need a few days," Scarlett said. "To think. To process. To figure out what I actually want beyond the panic and the fear."

"Take as much time as you need."

She started to get out, then turned back. "Damien? Thank you. For not making this harder than it already is."

"Scarlett." He caught her hand. "I'm not my father. I won't abandon you or manipulate you or make you feel alone. You have my word."

That night, Scarlett lay in bed staring at the ceiling, one hand on her still-flat stomach, trying to imagine a future where she was someone's mother.

Damien's baby. Their baby.

The thought should have terrified her. And it did. But it also made her feel something unexpected.

Hope.

Not for love or romance or fairy tale endings. But for something real. Something that wasn't built on contracts and lies.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: *I know about the pregnancy. Interesting development. Does your husband know his heir is a bastard child from a contract marriage? The media would love this story. - V*

Victoria. How did she know? Had someone at the clinic leaked information? Had she been watching the mansion?

Scarlett's blood ran cold. If Victoria knew, she would use it. Blackmail, exposure, whatever would hurt the most.

She crossed to the connecting door and knocked. Damien answered immediately, like he'd been awake too.

"Victoria knows," Scarlett said, showing him the text.

His expression went dark. "How?"

"I don't know. But she's threatening to expose everything to the media."

"Let her." Damien took her phone and typed something. "She has no proof the marriage is contractual. And pregnancy isn't scandalous. If anything, it makes us look more legitimate."

"Unless she spins it as I don't know, me trapping you. Gold digger gets pregnant to secure her fortune."

"Then we control the narrative first." He handed back her phone. "Tomorrow, we announce the pregnancy ourselves. On our terms. Happy couple expecting their first child. Victoria can't weaponize what's already public."

"That's fast."

"She's backing us into a corner. We either move first or let her control the story." He studied her face. "Unless you've decided you don't want to keep the pregnancy? In which case, we handle Victoria differently."

Scarlett looked at him,this complicated, dangerous man who'd somehow become her partner in all of this. And she realized she'd already made her decision, probably the moment she saw those two pink lines.

"I want to keep the baby," she said quietly. "I'm terrified and unprepared and have no idea what I'm doing. But I want this."

Something shifted in Damien's expression. Relief, joy, fear,all of it crossing his face in rapid succession.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"No. But I'm doing it anyway." She took a breath. "So yes. Let's announce it tomorrow. Control the narrative. Make Victoria irrelevant."

Damien pulled her into his arms, and for a moment they just stood there, two people who'd started as strangers and were now bound together by something far more permanent than a contract.

"We're going to be parents," he murmured against her hair.

"That's terrifying."

"Completely terrifying." But he was smiling. She could hear it in his voice.

They stood like that for a long time, and Scarlett let herself feel safe. Protected. Part of something bigger than revenge or money or contracts.

Tomorrow, they'd face Victoria's threats and media scrutiny and all the complications of announcing a pregnancy that would make their fake marriage look suddenly very real.

But tonight, she let herself imagine a future where the baby growing inside her wasn't a complication.

It was the beginning.

The announcement went live at nine AM.

Patricia, Damien's publicist, had worked through the night crafting the perfect statement: *Damien and Scarlett Wolfe are thrilled to announce they're expecting their first child. "We're overwhelmed with joy and gratitude," says the couple. "Starting our family together is the greatest adventure we could imagine."*

Accompanying the statement was a photo:Scarlett and Damien in the mansion's garden, his hand on her stomach, both of them smiling like this was the happiest moment of their lives.

It was a beautiful lie. Or maybe it was becoming the truth. Scarlett was no longer sure where the performance ended and reality began.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Congratulations poured in from business associates, society figures, and total strangers. The media went into a frenzy-articles about the "whirlwind romance that led to marriage and now a baby," speculation about due dates and baby names, think pieces about modern love.

Victoria's attempt to weaponize the pregnancy had backfired spectacularly. She couldn't expose what they'd already celebrated publicly.

But she wasn't done.

At eleven AM, while Scarlett was reading through messages of congratulations, her phone rang. Unknown number.

She answered. "Hello?"

"You think you've won." Victoria's voice was poison. "You think marrying a billionaire and getting pregnant makes you untouchable. But I know things about Damien Wolfe that would destroy him. And if you don't back off your investigation into your father's death, I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of man you've tied yourself to."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Shanghai factory fire. The one he claims was an accident? I have evidence it wasn't. I have documentation that Damien Wolfe ordered that fire to eliminate competition. Thirty-seven people died because your husband wanted market dominance." Victoria's voice was triumphant. "Still think you married a good man?"

The line went dead.

Scarlett sat frozen, Victoria's words echoing in her head. Damien had said the Shanghai fire was investigated and dismissed. But what if Victoria had found something the investigators missed?

What if she'd married a murderer?

No. That was exactly what Victoria wanted her to think. This was manipulation, psychological warfare designed to make Scarlett doubt everything.

But what if it wasn't?

She found Damien in his study, on a video call with what looked like the entire Wolfe Industries board. He held up one finger, give him a minute and she nodded, waiting.

When the call ended, he turned to her with a smile. "The board is thrilled about the baby. David Chen sent a personal message of congratulations. We did it, Scarlett. We controlled the narrative."

"Victoria called me."

His smile faded. "What did she say?"

"That she has evidence you ordered the Shanghai factory fire. That thirty-seven people died because of you." Scarlett watched his face carefully. "Tell me it's not true."

"It's not true."

"Tell me how you know. Tell me what really happened."

Damien's jaw tightened. "Five years ago, a factory in Shanghai was producing counterfeit Wolfe Industries goods. High-quality fakes that were damaging our brand. I sent my legal team to shut them down through proper channels. We filed complaints, worked with Chinese authorities, and did everything by the book. Three weeks before the case was set to go to court, the factory burned down. Faulty wiring, according to the investigation. Thirty-seven workers died."

"And you had nothing to do with the fire?"

"I had everything to do with it, in the sense that if I hadn't pursued legal action, those workers might not have been at that factory. But did I order the fire? Absolutely not. Did I pay someone to commit arson? No. Did I celebrate when my competition burned? No. I was horrified." His voice was rough. "Those were people. Workers are just trying to make a living. Their deaths haunt me, Scarlett. I set up a fund for their families. I donated millions to improve factory safety in China. But I can't bring them back."

She studied his face, looking for deception. But all she saw was genuine grief.

"Victoria claims she has evidence," Scarlett said.

"She's lying. The Chinese government investigated thoroughly. Interpol investigated. Independent safety inspectors investigated. Everyone concluded the same thing:accidental fire caused by negligent wiring. If Victoria had real evidence, she would have sold it to my competitors years ago." He crossed to where she stood. "She's trying to drive a wedge between us. Don't let her."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Because I'm giving you access to everything. All the investigation reports, all the documentation, all the witness statements. You can read every word yourself and decide." He pulled out his phone and started typing. "I'm sending you encrypted files right now. No redactions, no hiding. Complete transparency."

Scarlett's phone buzzed with incoming messages,dozens of files, thousands of pages of documents.

"Read it all," Damien said. "Take as long as you need. If you find anything that makes you doubt me, we'll deal with it. But I won't have Victoria poisoning you against me with lies."

The fact that he was giving her complete access, no hesitation, no conditions that meant something.

"I believe you," she said.

"You should verify before you believe. Trust, but verify. That's good business practice."

"This isn't business anymore. We're having a baby together. At some point, I have to trust you."

"Maybe.