"Wake up, my beautiful China doll." Damian brushed his lips along Chloe's neck, nudging her as the morning light slipped through the curtains. Melodic birdsong drifted in from outside as the world rose from sleep.

"Five more minutes," she whispered, her eyes still closed. She curled closer, her warmth sinking into his skin.

"Now," he murmured, running his tongue around her nipple before squeezing it between his fingers.

Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile turning her lips. "Mmm, one minute."

"Not one more second." He suckled on each breast, nipping her skin. His hand traced her curves, then spanked her bare butt cheeks.

Hard.

Chloe jolted. "Damian Preston Scott!"

"Did that wake you up?" He grinned, one eyebrow lifting.

"You enjoy playing dirty, don't you?" She ran her fingers along his jaw, her touch soft and teasing.

"Never said I was fair." He settled on one side, propping his head on his hand.

They lay like that for a moment, an easy quiet settling between them. Chloe traced circles on his forearm, her gaze drifting, thoughtful.

"Would you ever consider passing down a family name to our child?" she asked.

Damian's hand stilled on her hip. "Going the legacy route, huh?" He paused, considering. "Got any suggestions?"

"Well... there's your grandmother, Sarah Quinn."

He shook his head, the light in his eyes dimming. "No. Reminds me too much of my mother. Sarah. Saira. Too close."

"I'm curious. How did Sarah meet Darius?"

Damian gave her a playful nudge. "Digging up family secrets, are we?"

"Stop teasing. Just tell me." Chloe swatted his arm, laughing.

"Alright, alright." He settled back against the pillows, his tone slipping into something softer. "My great-grandfather, Magnus Andersen, introduced his daughter to Darius when he was Lester Harbor's mayor."

Chloe scooted close to Damian. "I read about Magnus in high school. He was an impoverished Norwegian fisherman who made millions in the States. Self-made, unlike the Quinns, who were old money."

"Right," Damian said. " My great-grandfather started a commercial seafood company, and it's still running strong."

"The same company that put my dad out of business." Chloe folded her arms, leaning back against the headboard.

"And then hired him as a distribution manager," Damian reminded, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out. "Fine. You win."

"It's not about winning, Chloe." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "My great-grandfather wanted a love match, sure, but also a professional alliance."

"Ah, so a 'strategic' love story." Chloe mused. "Got it. But what was Sarah like?"

He hesitated, a flicker of sadness crossing his face. "According to my mother, my grandmother was brilliant—she had a scholarship to study mathematics at Harvard. Instead, she became the perfect housewife. It broke something in her."

Chloe shook her head. "I could never live like that."

"Neither could she, in the end." His gaze drifted, lost in memories he'd rather not revisit. "Sarah struggled. She connected with my uncle Nick but barely acknowledged my mother. Left scars, for sure."

"What about the Scott side?" Chloe asked, drawing lazy circles on Damian's muscled arm.

His stomach clenched, and his jaw tightened. "Even messier. Can you keep a secret?"

"You know I can. Your family's secrets are safe with me." Chloe's soft smile eased the tension in his heart.

"Remember my dad's brother, Oliver, and my cousin, Camilla?"

"Yep. They barely spoke to us at our wedding. What's wrong with them?"

"Years ago, when Oliver's wife was alive, she had an affair with Dad." Damian paused, gauging her reaction before continuing. "Camilla is my father's daughter."

Chloe's jaw dropped. "Wait. So, Oliver raised her, knowing she wasn't his?"

Damian nodded. "Uncle Oliver can't have kids—a rare genetic condition. But he took her in. We're not close."

Chloe reached out, resting a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry."

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Don't be. It shows me what I don't want for us. Our daughter deserves to grow up knowing she can count on her parents."

Chloe's fingers traced his high cheekbone, her touch light, almost ticklish. "Our baby's lucky to have you."

He brushed off the praise with a grin, standing up and stretching as sunlight traced the lines of his body. Chloe's eyes lingered on him, openly admiring.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, smirking.

"Maybe I am," she replied, unashamed.

He chuckled, extending a hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her up from the bed. "Shower with me. Then we'll order breakfast—and I have something to show you."

Her eyebrows shot up, but she didn't press. Damian loved that about her—she never asked for more than he was ready to give.

***

While waiting for breakfast, Damian opened his laptop and gestured for Chloe to come closer. "There's something you need to see."

Chloe slid beside him, her eyes narrowing as a Vanguard Suisse bank account appeared on the screen, showing recent transaction details. She took a sharp breath, pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. "So, this is why you met Nate in Zurich?"

"Yes," Damian said, his tone grim. "We set up this offshore account with the federal government and the police. We're running a sting operation to catch the key players in my mother's syndicate."

She leaned closer, scrolling through messages forwarded by undercover police officers. Every line hinted at a more extensive scheme—Scott-Quinn Enterprises' technology and finances were used to lure criminals in a high-stakes game of bait. "This is incredible. Who are these officers?"

"Secret Service," he answered. "The goal is to bring down my mother's underworld empire."

Chloe's breath caught as the pieces started falling into place. "Holy crap! There's a fifty-grand transaction from Mike Marino. Did he buy someone?"

"A young boy, about fourteen. He's safe with the authorities now."

"So they have concrete evidence that Mike and Gemma control the whole operation, right?"

Damian nodded. "They're at the top of the human trafficking food chain."

Her hands clenched as she felt a protectiveness rise within her for their baby and all the innocents in the world. "Damian, this is... I don't even have words."

Damian placed a hand over hers. "This is why I've been so secretive. I didn't want you involved."

Chloe wiped tears away from her eyes. "Dami, was Gemma doing this when you were with her?"

"No. She was an assistant at her father's law firm, more interested in shopping, socializing, and sex. She was a different person."

Chloe scowled, loathing that Damian and Gemma had been intimate multiple times. Damian once chose Gemma over her.

Damian rubbed her hand, comforting her. "Hey. What Gemma and I had means nothing now."

Chloe sighed. "I'm glad your grandmother and lawyer helped Mina finally speak about Mike to the police."

"Mina gave evidence against Gemma too." Damian's voice hardened as a hot flash of anger disrupted his composed demeanor. "After I showed her photos of Gemma and Rochefort Manor, Mina confirmed everything. She remembered the estate's facade, the great hall, the stairway. She said Gemma had a team of people hiding the girls in the basement rooms."

"You're planning a raid, aren't you?"

"The police will be at the Rochefort property today because of the evidence I've shared with them."

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed. "What kind of evidence? I thought Mina's testimony was enough."

Damian rose, walked to the bedroom safe, and unlocked it. He returned with a thick envelope labeled "Gemma Rochefort" and handed it to Chloe.

"This. My mother left files and letters for me. A solicitor at Rochefort's law firm hid them from Gemma after Mother's funeral. She handed me a sealed box of her things. I didn't have the heart to open the box until recently."

Chloe opened the envelope, pulling out a handwritten letter on top. She began to read, Damian's mother's voice chilling her with each line.

***

My Son,

If you're reading this, then I'm gone. Perhaps that's for the best—because I'm sure you never understood me, nor did you want to. But know this: every choice I made, every alliance I forged, was for one purpose—to ensure that you would wield power. You are my legacy.

Enclosed are documents on Gemma Rochefort. There are files on her handling the "inventory"—girls she took under her wing after she came to me, wanting to learn the ropes of my business. You'll find receipts from private auctions, lists of clients, and hidden accounts.

From the moment I saw the glint of ambition in her eyes, I kept a close watch. She was meant to be your wife, the mother of my grandchildren. She visited me after you ended your relationship with her. She wanted a place in my world, and I gave her that chance.

But she blew it.

She started stealing from me. Stabbing my back, believing she could rise above me. I had my sources. She betrayed my trust, and now these documents are yours. Proof that she's as tainted as I am, if not worse.

If you're smart, you'll use these files to remind her that the Quinn bloodline is not to be crossed. Remember these three pointers:

1. Trust no one: my words are more valuable than anything you learn in a boardroom.

2. Power is not kind: wield this weapon without an apology. You'll understand if you let yourself.

3. Make them fear you: this is the only language people like Gemma understand. Never forget the lesson I taught you when you were eight. What you did...

With love,

Mother

***

Chloe's hands shook as she set the letter down. "Saira knew everything. She had dirt on everyone."

Damian chuckled darkly. "She kept it all—Gemma, Mike, even dirt on Dad and Uncle Nick."

Chloe reached out, her hand resting on his arm. "Dami, what happened when you were eight?"

He hesitated. "A science project. I had a pet moth. My mother placed a mantis in the jar to watch what would happen. It killed the moth."

"Oh, no! What did you do after your moth died?"

"I used tweezers to tear the mantis's legs off, one by one."

She stared at him for a second before speaking. "You were just a boy, full of anger. I'm sure you regretted it."

"Then you don't know me."

Damian shrugged, his lips pressing a firm line. He walked to the closet and pulled out a small, matte-black handgun, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans.

Chloe's eyes widened. "Is that a gun? With a silencer?"

"For protection." His voice was calm, but his eyes held a steely edge. "Courtesy of secret agents. They're around. If Mike or Gemma make any moves, they won't get far."

Chloe's chest tightened as she took in the gravity of everything he'd been handling alone. The lies, the undercover work, and who she thought he was. Was he as ruthless as Saira?

The soft knock broke the tense stillness.

"It's room service," Chloe said, rushing to the door. Her fingers twisted the handle, but the red flags of danger hit her too late.

The door swung open, and there she was—Gemma.

"Well, isn't this cozy?"

She leaned against the doorframe with the casual ease of someone stopping by for coffee, seeming angelic in her baby blue silk dress. Yet, the bitterness of her cerulean eyes cut right through Chloe.

Bile churned in Chloe's gut, followed by her baby's frantic kicks. Still, she wasn't going to buckle on this battleground. "Going for the Alice in Wonderland look? How trite," she sniped.

"Gemma," Damian greeted, a smug grin slowly emerging on his handsome face.

Ignoring him, Gemma brushed past, her shoulder jarring against Chloe's as she swept into the suite.

Chloe froze as her gaze locked onto the glint of polished metal in Gemma's hand. The sick chill spreading through her felt like ice seeping into her bones.

Gemma's pink lips stretched into a doll-like smile. It reminded Chloe of an old puppet show with a cursed doll pulled straight from hell's depths.

"Care for a... threesome?" Gemma's cold mockery sliced like a blade cutting open a defenseless animal.

***

A/N: What do you think will happen next?

Three more chapters to go... maybe with a teaser chapter for book 3 (plotline roughly mapped out). Editing will come later. :)