Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Chapter 186
Damien’s POV

The party was suffocating me.

I stood near the refreshment table, Emma’s voice washing over me like white noise. Around us, Chicago’s elite mingled and laughed, their champagne glasses catching the light from crystal chandeliers. Everything was perfect. Everything was fake.

Just like this whole goddamn evening.

Lily and Adrian were running around with the other kids, their laughter cutting through the adult conversation. At least they were having fun. At least someone was.

“—don’t you think, Damien?”

I had no idea what Emma had just said. Didn’t care either.

But then—

Something shifted. A cold prickle ran down my spine, sharp and immediate. That old instinct, the one I’d honed in years of dealing with threats and enemies, suddenly screaming at me.

Someone was watching.

My head whipped around, eyes scanning the crowd. Nothing. Just the usual suspects, the usual fake smiles and political maneuvering. I turned toward the windows overlooking the street.

A sedan sped past. Tinted windows. Gone in a heartbeat.

Nothing else.

Just my paranoia, probably. The stress getting to me.

“Damien? Are you alright?”

Emma’s concerned voice grated on my nerves. I forced my shoulders to relax, unclenched my jaw.

“Fine. Thought I saw someone.”

“Daddy! Daddy, look!” Lily came barreling toward me, her party dress a blur of pink. “I won the ring toss!”

I crouched down, and for the first time all evening, something genuine broke through the numbness. “Did you now?”

She shoved a cheap plastic trophy in my face, beaming with pride. God, she looked so much like her mother when she smiled like that. My chest constricted.

“That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

“I had three cupcakes!” Adrian announced, finally acting like an eight-year-old child, appearing with chocolate smeared across his face like war paint.

Despite everything, I almost smiled. “I can see that, buddy.”

I pulled out my handkerchief, wiping his face. These moments—these simple, ordinary moments with my kids—were the only things keeping me sane.

The afternoon dragged on like torture. Endless small talk. Forced smiles. Emma playing her role perfectly, laughing at all the right moments, saying all the right things to all the right people.

Every time she touched my arm, my skin crawled.

This was a mistake. Such a massive mistake. I should never have brought her. But I’d needed someone to deflect the questions, the pitying stares, the whispered speculation.

“Where’s your wife, Damien?”

“Is it true she left you?”

“Are you getting divorced?”

Emma had been a convenient shield. Nothing more.

By dinner, the kids were fading. Lily kept rubbing her eyes, and Adrian’s head drooped between bites. They’d run themselves ragged, played themselves out.

Good. At least they’d sleep well tonight.

“Someone’s tired,” Emma said, reaching over to smooth Lily’s hair.

My daughter flinched slightly, pressing closer to me.

“We need to leave,” I said, checking my watch. Way past their bedtime.

Emma’s face fell. “Already? I thought we might stay for dancing.”

“The kids are exhausted.”

“Of course.” That smile again. “Family first.”

We gathered our things—the kids clutching their party favors like treasure—and I made the obligatory rounds. Handshakes. Empty congratulations. Everyone pretending they weren’t gossiping about my failed marriage the second I turned my back.

Let them talk.

The air hit us the moment we stepped outside. Lily shivered, and I immediately draped my jacket over her shoulders.

“I want one too!” Adrian protested.

“You’re already wearing yours, buddy.”

“Oh. Right.”

My driver pulled up with the SUV. I helped the kids into their car seats, Emma slid into the middle row, and I took the front passenger seat.

We weren’t even out of the parking lot before both kids passed out.

I glanced back. Lily’s head against the window, plastic trophy still clutched in her little hands. Adrian with chocolate still smeared on his collar, frosting on his cheek.

They looked so small. So vulnerable.

The city lights blurred past. Traffic was light. The driver navigated smoothly toward my penthouse.

Toward home.

“Damien.”

Emma’s voice had changed. Softer. More intimate.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

“I’ve been thinking about today. About us.”

“I see how hard this is for you,” she continued, leaning forward. “Raising them alone. Dealing with everything. You need someone, Damien. Someone who understands your world. Someone who can be there for you and the kids.”

“Emma—”

“Let me finish.” Her hand landed on my shoulder, and it took everything in me not to shake it off violently. “I care about you. I have for a long time. And I’m good with Lily and Adrian. They like me.”

The hell they do.

“I want to be there for all three of you. I want to be the person you come home to. The person who helps with homework and bedtime stories. Your partner.”

Partner.

The word made bile rise in my throat.

I already have a partner. I already have a wife.

“I know this might seem sudden,” Emma pressed on, her voice trembling slightly. “But life is short. We could be really good together. I could make you happy. Make the kids happy.”

The silence in the car was deafening. Just the soft breathing of my sleeping children and the pounding of blood in my ears.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Think about it,” she urged. “Really think about it. I’m not asking for an answer tonight. I just want you to consider the possibility. Consider me.”

My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

“I know Sera abandoned you and the kids.”

Everything went red. My hands were shaking.

“You don’t deserve to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t want you. You deserve someone who chooses you every single day.”

“Pull over.” My voice was deadly calm. Too calm.

“Sir?”

“Pull. Over. Now.”

The driver immediately complied, pulling to the curb on some quiet residential street.

Emma blinked. “What—”

I was out of the car in seconds, yanking open her door with barely controlled fury.

“Get out.”

“Damien, I—”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Car.”

She scrambled out, nearly tripping in those ridiculous heels. The second she was clear, I grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the car. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make her stumble.

“You want to know what you are to me?” My voice was low, shaking with rage. “You’re nothing. A placeholder. A fucking prop I used for one night because I needed to shut people up.”

Emma’s face drained of all color.

“Damien—”

“And you have the audacity,” I cut her off, my grip tightening on her arm, “to stand here and talk about my wife?”

“But she did leave—”

“Shut up!” The words exploded out of me. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to say her name. You don’t know shit about what happened, about why, about anything!”