The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Chapter 18 – His Curiosity

Damien POV

The whiskey tasted terrible.

I stared at the contract documents spread across my desk. The Riverside Project. Lost to Aria Monroe.

Lost to my wife.

Ex-wife, I corrected myself.

"Mr. Blackwood?" My assistant’s voice came through the intercom. "The board is waiting for your call."

I ignored him, opening a new search window instead.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then I typed: Silver Springs pediatricians

Dozens of results appeared. I scrolled through them, looking for anything that might connect to Aria.

Nothing. She was too careful.

I tried another search: Aria Monroe child

Still nothing. No birth announcements. No social media posts. No school records.

She’d erased every trace.

My office phone rang. I picked it up without checking. "What?"

"The board wants to meet Monday morning." My assistant’s voice was cautious. "To discuss next steps after the Riverside loss."

"Fine." I ended the call.

I thought back to Aria. Morrison was right. Pushing too hard would only make her run again. And this time, I might never find her.

I needed a different approach. Something that showed her I’d changed. That I could be trusted.

But how did you prove you’d changed to someone you’d destroyed?

My phone buzzed. Another text from Marcus: Still ignoring me? Fine. I’ll just have to introduce myself to your lovely ex-wife in person. I’m sure she’d love to hear about our family history.

I called him immediately. "Stay away from Aria."

"Why?" His voice was amused. "Afraid I’ll tell her the truth"

"That has nothing to do with her."

"It has everything to do with her. She married into this family. She deserves to know what kind of monsters."

"Marcus." My voice went deadly quiet. "If you go near her, I will destroy you. I don’t care that you’re my brother. I will use every resource I have to make sure you never see daylight again."

Silence. Then Marcus laughed. "There’s Damien I remember. Cold. Ruthless. Willing to burn the world down to protect what’s his." His voice dropped. "Except she’s not yours anymore, is she? You threw her away. And now she’s great without you."

"What do you want, Marcus?"

"The same thing you want, little brother. Everything Father never gave us." The line went dead.

I slammed the phone down, my chest heaving.

I dialed my head of security again. "James, I need all that security detail on Aria Monroe increased. Twenty-four seven. And I want someone watching my brother Marcus. If he goes anywhere near her, I want to know immediately."

"Understood, sir. Should I inform Ms. Monroe about the security?"

"No." I paused. "She can’t know. Keep your distance. But if anyone approaches her—especially Marcus—I want immediate notification."

"Yes, sir."

I ended the call and walked to my office window, staring out at the city lights.

My mother’s deathbed words haunted me again. Don’t become like your father. Cold men die alone.

I was my father’s son. Cold. Calculating and emotionally dead.

But maybe it wasn’t too late to change. Maybe I could become someone worthy of the family I’d thrown away.

Maybe.

I pulled out my phone and opened my messages to Aria. The last text sat there, delivered but unread: Congratulations on your win. You deserve it.

I started typing again: I know I can’t undo the past. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But please don’t punish our son for my mistakes. He deserves a father. Even if that father is me.

I stared at the words for a long moment.

Then I deleted them and threw the phone across the room.

It shattered against the wall, pieces scattering across the expensive carpet.

I was a coward. Too afraid to reach out, too proud to beg properly, too damaged to know how to fix what I’d broken.

My mother had been right.

Cold men died alone.

The board could wait. Let them wait. Let them whisper about how Damien Blackwood had been beaten by the woman he’d thrown away.

They’d be right to whisper.

My Work phone buzzed from the desk. A text from my head of security: Daily report on subject AM attached.

I opened the file, scanning through the mundane details. Aria had gone to her office at 7 AM. Met with her team, she attended the board meeting. Returned to her office. Celebrated at Marcello’s.

Normal and professional.

Nothing about a child.

I opened my laptop, pulling up the investigator’s comprehensive report I have viewed lots of times.. The one that cost me fifty thousand dollars and three sleepless nights.

Time to stop being a coward.

The file opened. Hundreds of pages. Years of Aria’s life, documented in cold, clinical detail.

I started reading.

"No," I whispered, clicking frantically. "No, no, no."

But every field related to the birth was blocked. Redacted. Sealed.

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