Page 58 of His Secret Merger

We reached her car, and Gabrielle spun to face me, her expression gentler now, the teasing edge softening into something closer to worry. “Look,” she said, brushing a lock of hair from my face, “if you decide things with Damian aren’t going to work out—if you want to go this alone—I will be your emotional support animal.”

That pulled a real laugh from me, sharp and surprised. “What, you’re going to get one of those little service vests and follow me around airports?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll wear a patch. ‘Certified Support Twin.’ I’ll bark at anyone who looks at you sideways.”

I shook my head, eyes burning, but the absurdity of it lightened my heart. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gabrielle’s smile softened. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

I swallowed hard, glancing toward the horizon, where the sun was already dipping low. “It’s just… different, Gabby. You have Anthony. You have your person. I don’t know what Damian is to me right now.”

Gabrielle’s voice dropped to something quieter, more serious. “Your situation is different, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to shut him out. Let him in, Jules. Or at least give him the chance.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the conversation pressing against my ribs. “I’m scared,” I admitted before I could stop myself. The words tasted strange in my mouth—raw and unpolished. “I’m scared to need something from him he can’t give me.”

Gabrielle reached for my hand, her fingers cool and sure. “Then let’s figure it out together. Whatever you choose—Damian or no Damian, baby or no baby—you’re not doing it by yourself.”

For a beat, the two of us just stood there, the quiet hum of traffic filling the spaces between our words.

I gave her hand a squeeze, drawing in a breath that tasted a little less like fear and a little more like resolve. “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”

We started walking again, arm in arm, Gabrielle’s head bumping gently against my shoulder. My phone stayed silent, Damian’s message still waiting—a conversation I knew I couldn’t avoid forever.

But for this one moment, I let it wait.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Damian

The glow of my laptop screen lit up the dark office, casting pale light over the mess of papers spread across my desk. An email draft blinked at me—half-written, scattered thoughts about a deal I should’ve wrapped up hours ago—but my fingers hovered uselessly above the keys. My eyes kept drifting, drawn repeatedly to the phone beside my keyboard.

Juliette: Can we talk?

Three simple words from Juliette, and I was completely undone.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling hard as I raked a hand through my hair. I’d spent the entire day trying to bury myself in work, pretending the mountain of contracts and client updates would be enough to keep my mind occupied. It hadn’t.

Because no matter how many reports I pretended to read, all I could see was Juliette, sitting in that sterile doctor’s office, waiting for answers I couldn’t give her.

My jaw tightened. I remembered the moment on the plane, the two of us seated comfortably in the private jet, a bottle of wine between us, when she’d turned to me with that deceptively light tone and asked if I’d ever consider being a sperm donor. I’d laughed it off—made some throwaway comment—and she’d smiled, but not really. The visit to Germany went downhill after that brief conversation.

And now, because of her, the gallery was experiencing an influx of business, new donors lining up to purchase tickets to the upcoming gala. Juliette hadn’t just helped revitalize the event—she’d breathed life into the entire operation, drawing in a crowd we hadn’t been able to reach before. She was brilliant, magnetic, impossible to ignore. And somehow, I was still the man she came to with her quiet, aching questions.

She hadn’t been joking. Not then.

And I’d known it.

I stared at the phone again, the guilt pressing sharp and cold behind my ribs. She was facing the biggest decision of her life, staring down a future that terrified her, and the whole time, I’d been keeping Mateo buried like some dirty secret. A son I’d never planned for, never expected—but who existed all the same. And Juliette had no idea.

My throat tightened, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a beat, willing the pressure behind them to ease.

This wasn’t me. I wasn’t the man who froze up when it mattered. I wasn’t the man who lied by omission, who kept walls up when the person on the other side had already trusted me with more than I deserved.

But somehow, with Juliette, I was.

I pushed back from the desk, the chair groaning quietly beneath me. My hands scrubbed over my face, rough with end-of-day stubble, and for a second, I just sat there in the dark, the city lights flickering faintly through the window.

Maybe this was the moment everything broke. Maybe I’d already crossed the line.

---