Aurora stared at the little object in her shaking hand with slow, heavy breathe.

Two clear, unmistakable pink lines.

Positive.

Her heartbeat thundered through her ears, loud enough to drown out everything else in the tiny bathroom. The walls felt too close, like she was being squeezed in. The tiled floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet.

Her throat tightened.

“No,” she whispered to the empty room. “No, no, I can't be...”

She sank onto the closed toilet seat, fingers trembling around the stick like it was a detonator. A sharp breath escaped her. She didn't even know how to react.

Pregnant.

For goodness sake, their breakup and make up wasn’t even a full two weeks old.

She blinked hard, waiting for everything to make sense. How am I supposed to do this?

She thought of her everything. She was still an intern, a child was definitely not in her plans.

She thought of Damian.

A cold rush of panic slid through her.

Telling him would be the responsible thing. The logical thing.

But Damian didn’t do soft. Or vulnerable. Or family. He did power, control and distance.

This was not good.

What if he wants the child? What if it's the line that would increase the love he had for her?

But what if it wasn't...

Aurora swallowed hard. Still he deserved to know.

She set the test down gently, wiped her tears, and forced herself up.

Resolve wasn’t strength, it was survival.

And she would survive this.

***

The city was alive with noise as she stepped out of the train station. Horns, chatter, distant construction but somehow everything sounded muffled, like she was underwater.

Her steps carried her straight towards Voss Industries, thirty-seven floors of polished steel, cold ambition, and the man who unknowingly changed her life forever.

The revolving doors swooshed open, the lobby gleaming under crystal lighting. The marble floor reflected expensive shoes and rushed footsteps. Suits and heels passed her without acknowledgment.

She felt invisible.

Which was ridiculous.

Because inside her, something irreversible had just begun.

She approached the reception desk. The woman behind it looked up.

“Hello, how may I...” Her expression shifted. “Aurora. You’re early.”

Aurora managed a polite nod. “Is Damian available?”

The receptionist hesitated, eyes flicking briefly toward the executive elevator. It was as though she was nervous.

“He’s in a meeting.”

“Do you know when he’ll be done?”

Another pause, her eyes again moving toward the private elevator.

Aurora’s stomach tightened.

Something was definitely wrong.

“He requested not to be disturbed,” the woman finally said.

Aurora inhaled slowly. “I’ll wait.”

The receptionist opened her mouth to argue, but Aurora was already heading toward the private elevator, the one that required a keycard.

She still had hers.

His mistake.

The elevator doors slid open, sealing her into silence.

Her reflection stared back at her, pale, fragile, too young to be carrying a burden this heavy.

The doors opened onto the executive floor. It was quiet, dimly lit, empty.

Her heels echoed down the hallway.

Damian’s office door was slightly ajar. Her heart pounded at the sight.

She lifted her hand and pushed.

The door swung open.

And the world dropped out from under her.

Damian wasn’t alone.

A tall woman, raven-haired, wearing a dress that cost more than Aurora’s rent, was sitting on his desk. Damian stood between her legs, his hand in her hair, his mouth on hers with a hunger Aurora recognized too well.

She froze.

He didn’t notice her at first.

The woman moaned softly, causing Aurora’s stomach to churn.

She almost turned away, almost sparing herself the final blow.

But the woman pulled back and laughed softly.

“Careful, Damian. If the entire building knew how easily you get bored, they’d stop worshipping you.”

Damian smirked.

“Let them worship.”

The familiarity of his casual arrogance punched the air from Aurora’s lungs.

This wasn’t Lydia neither was it a rebound.

It was a pattern, a routine that she had gullibly swept under the carpet.

The pregnancy test burned like a brand inside her bag.

Damian finally sensed movement.

He turned.

His expression didn’t soften.

He didn’t look regretful.

Only annoyed.

“Aurora,” he said flatly. “This is not a good time.”

The other woman slid gracefully off the desk, smirking as she adjusted her dress. “Well, she must be the infamous complication.”

Aurora felt heat rush to her cheeks. Humiliation burning far hotter than grief, what an introduction...

She swallowed.

Her voice barely worked.

“I I needed to tell you something . Her voice barely worked.

Damian’s expression sharpened with irritation.

“Whatever it is, it can wait.”

Something inside her cracked

“No,” she whispered. “It can’t.”

The woman laughed under her breath and walked toward the door, heels clicking like applause to Aurora’s humiliation.

Damian didn’t even look at her as she left.

Well-trained. Disposable.

Aurora stared at him. The man she once would’ve burned her life down to love.

"We can talk about whatever it is later..."

Later.

Like she was a problem to schedule. Her heart finally stopped breaking. It had shattered.

“No,” she said, voice steadying with each word. “You lost the right to later.”

Damian stepped toward her. “Be reasonable”

“No,” she repeated, backing away. “Stop talking to me like I’m another girl in your rotation.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You are being emotional.”

She laughed. It was a half laugh, half sob.

He exhaled sharply. “Aurora -”

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

He froze.

She met his eyes one last time.

“Not with you. Not like this.”

Damian’s jaw flexed, hands curling slightly, as if he wasn’t used to losing anything. It was all too familiar to him.

She turned before he could speak again.

This time, she didn’t run.

She walked. Every step she took was a decision.

She didn’t look back.

Not even when she heard him say her name like a command he expected the world to obey.

She reached the elevator.

Pressed the button and stepped inside, hot tears spilling from her eyes.

And the doors sealed Damian Voss out of her life,

-just as her new one began.