One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 12: Chapter 12
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It began with a photograph.
A simple, unassuming frame on Arielle’s desk—one of her children’s smiling faces captured in golden sunlight. It wasn’t a professional shot. Just a candid from a school event. The photo had gone viral on a small local parenting forum the day before, after a teacher had posted it with a caption about resilience and family.
But it wasn’t the message that caught attention.
It was the face.
Two faces, to be exact—Hazel and Eli.
Hazel’s smirk. Eli’s raised brow. The unmistakable echo of Damien Kingston in two miniature reflections.
A junior staffer named Quinn passed by Arielle’s desk that morning, late to a meeting, and paused for a heartbeat too long. He’d worked in Damien’s executive pool for five years. He’d seen every twitch of the man’s expression, heard his rare laughter, watched his jaw lock in boardrooms when plans failed.
And those kids—those eyes—
Quinn kept walking. But his curiosity burned.
It wasn’t suspicion. Not at first. Just… intuition.
He waited until the office thinned out, hours after most had gone. He returned to Arielle’s desk, took a quick glance to confirm no cameras were pointed directly at the frame, then snapped a discreet photo with his phone.
He wasn’t reckless.
But he wasn’t stupid, either.
If those children were who he suddenly believed they might be, it changed everything.
The next day, Quinn made an excuse to step into Damien’s personal lounge—where he’d seen the CEO once leave a comb behind. Just a single strand of hair might still cling to the bristles. He’d watched enough of Damien’s routines to know when the room would be unoccupied.
And there it was. Still tucked in the drawer near the sink. Still used occasionally after gym visits.
One quick swipe with a sterile cloth. One sealed bag.
He didn’t ask himself why he was doing it.
Not yet.
The test wasn’t difficult to arrange.
Quinn’s brother worked in a private genetics lab. Favored by the elite. Discreet.
“I just want to know if he’s related,” Quinn had said. “To a child. That’s all. No lawsuits. No noise. Just… clarity.”
He paid in cash. Rush order.
Results promised in forty-eight hours.
Arielle noticed nothing.
She was too focused on surviving the week. Damien had grown more reserved, but more present. Every time she passed his office, she could feel his eyes on her, trying to decipher a language only her heart still spoke fluently.
And she was tired—bone-deep tired. Carrying the weight of eight lives, feeding them, bathing them, reading bedtime stories while her own dreams gathered dust.
She hadn’t seen Quinn linger.
Hadn’t seen him flinch the day he overheard Damien call her into his office just to discuss an innocuous calendar update. No one else got summoned for something so trivial.
No one else made the boss restless.
The results came on a Thursday afternoon.
Quinn opened the file alone in a café on the corner of 53rd and Lennox, heart pounding.
DNA Paternity Match: 99.998%
Damien Kingston was the biological father of Eli Summers.
A wave of disbelief crashed through him, followed by adrenaline, then cold sweat.
He closed the file.
Stared out the window.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He didn’t go to Damien. Not yet.
He wasn’t even sure if he should. This wasn’t just a company scandal. This was legacy-level. Heir-level.
If Damien had a child—or children—he didn’t know about, it would tear the foundation of Kingston Holdings apart. Boardroom battles. Estate claims. Public image slaughtered.
And Arielle…
Was she hiding it?
Or protecting them?
Quinn’s loyalty had always been to Damien. But loyalty didn’t always mean blind obedience. Sometimes it meant giving someone the truth they weren’t ready to ask for.
And this? This wasn’t something Damien could ignore.
Not anymore.
Inside the penthouse-level office that night, Damien reviewed shareholder reports while his mind drifted.
Arielle’s voice.
Her laugh.
That moment in the interview when she’d said she raised them alone.
Something about her still didn’t let him sleep easily.
He didn’t know yet that the truth was already in the building.
Waiting to explode.
A simple, unassuming frame on Arielle’s desk—one of her children’s smiling faces captured in golden sunlight. It wasn’t a professional shot. Just a candid from a school event. The photo had gone viral on a small local parenting forum the day before, after a teacher had posted it with a caption about resilience and family.
But it wasn’t the message that caught attention.
It was the face.
Two faces, to be exact—Hazel and Eli.
Hazel’s smirk. Eli’s raised brow. The unmistakable echo of Damien Kingston in two miniature reflections.
A junior staffer named Quinn passed by Arielle’s desk that morning, late to a meeting, and paused for a heartbeat too long. He’d worked in Damien’s executive pool for five years. He’d seen every twitch of the man’s expression, heard his rare laughter, watched his jaw lock in boardrooms when plans failed.
And those kids—those eyes—
Quinn kept walking. But his curiosity burned.
It wasn’t suspicion. Not at first. Just… intuition.
He waited until the office thinned out, hours after most had gone. He returned to Arielle’s desk, took a quick glance to confirm no cameras were pointed directly at the frame, then snapped a discreet photo with his phone.
He wasn’t reckless.
But he wasn’t stupid, either.
If those children were who he suddenly believed they might be, it changed everything.
The next day, Quinn made an excuse to step into Damien’s personal lounge—where he’d seen the CEO once leave a comb behind. Just a single strand of hair might still cling to the bristles. He’d watched enough of Damien’s routines to know when the room would be unoccupied.
And there it was. Still tucked in the drawer near the sink. Still used occasionally after gym visits.
One quick swipe with a sterile cloth. One sealed bag.
He didn’t ask himself why he was doing it.
Not yet.
The test wasn’t difficult to arrange.
Quinn’s brother worked in a private genetics lab. Favored by the elite. Discreet.
“I just want to know if he’s related,” Quinn had said. “To a child. That’s all. No lawsuits. No noise. Just… clarity.”
He paid in cash. Rush order.
Results promised in forty-eight hours.
Arielle noticed nothing.
She was too focused on surviving the week. Damien had grown more reserved, but more present. Every time she passed his office, she could feel his eyes on her, trying to decipher a language only her heart still spoke fluently.
And she was tired—bone-deep tired. Carrying the weight of eight lives, feeding them, bathing them, reading bedtime stories while her own dreams gathered dust.
She hadn’t seen Quinn linger.
Hadn’t seen him flinch the day he overheard Damien call her into his office just to discuss an innocuous calendar update. No one else got summoned for something so trivial.
No one else made the boss restless.
The results came on a Thursday afternoon.
Quinn opened the file alone in a café on the corner of 53rd and Lennox, heart pounding.
DNA Paternity Match: 99.998%
Damien Kingston was the biological father of Eli Summers.
A wave of disbelief crashed through him, followed by adrenaline, then cold sweat.
He closed the file.
Stared out the window.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He didn’t go to Damien. Not yet.
He wasn’t even sure if he should. This wasn’t just a company scandal. This was legacy-level. Heir-level.
If Damien had a child—or children—he didn’t know about, it would tear the foundation of Kingston Holdings apart. Boardroom battles. Estate claims. Public image slaughtered.
And Arielle…
Was she hiding it?
Or protecting them?
Quinn’s loyalty had always been to Damien. But loyalty didn’t always mean blind obedience. Sometimes it meant giving someone the truth they weren’t ready to ask for.
And this? This wasn’t something Damien could ignore.
Not anymore.
Inside the penthouse-level office that night, Damien reviewed shareholder reports while his mind drifted.
Arielle’s voice.
Her laugh.
That moment in the interview when she’d said she raised them alone.
Something about her still didn’t let him sleep easily.
He didn’t know yet that the truth was already in the building.
Waiting to explode.
End of One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- Chapter 12. Continue reading Chapter 13 or return to One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- book page.