One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Arielle expected silence.
After the confrontation, after the truth shattered like porcelain between them, she thought Damien would step back—recalculate. Retreat.
Instead, she found a sleek black folder waiting on her desk the next morning.
Inside: a formal proposal. Bound, tabbed, and notarized.
A contract.
Move into the Kingston estate.
Effective immediately.
All children included.
Full financial support.
Healthcare, security, education.
No strings.
Except one.
Damien would be involved. Actively. As their father.
Arielle sat motionless as the pages slid through her fingers. Each line carefully drafted. No demand for custody. No threats. Just an offer—wrapped in legality, power, and quiet desperation.
She hadn’t seen desperation in him before.
Not until now.
He waited for her in the conference room, not his office.
Neutral ground.
When she walked in, folder in hand, he didn’t speak.
Neither did she.
Finally, he said, “You’ve read it.”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward. “Then say something.”
Arielle placed the folder on the table. “This isn’t how families are built.”
“I’m not asking for your heart, Arielle. I’m asking for access. To my children.”
“They’re not assets to be traded for convenience.”
His jaw ticked. “You think this is convenient for me? Having the media sniffing around because someone saw Eli at that school fundraiser? I’m trying to protect them.”
Her eyes flashed. “And what do you think I’ve been doing for the past seven years?”
He stood. “They need more than protection now. They need me.”
Arielle rose too. “Do they? Or is it your ego that needs them?”
His breath hissed between his teeth.
“You gave me no choice,” he said. “You kept them from me.”
“I kept them safe.”
“I have more resources, more reach, more protection than you can ever imagine.”
“And yet you had no idea you were a father.”
Silence fell again.
She looked down.
“You want to be their father? Start acting like one. Not with contracts. Not with money. Show up. Prove yourself.”
“I will,” he said quietly.
“But you want us to move into your estate?”
“Yes.”
“With guards and gates and cameras?”
“Yes.”
“And what? You’ll tuck them in? Make pancakes?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
She laughed bitterly. “You don’t even know what toothpaste they like.”
“Then teach me.”
That stopped her.
He stepped closer. “I’m not trying to take them away from you, Arielle. I’m trying to join them. I’ve spent my entire life building an empire for a legacy I thought I didn’t have. Now I do. Eight of them. Let me share it.”
Her throat tightened.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
He didn’t look away. “So am I.”
She stared at the folder.
Then back at him.
“I won’t sign it. Not yet.”
Damien nodded. “But you’ll think about it.”
“Yes.”
“And the children?”
“They come first. Always.”
“Then let’s start there.”
That weekend, he came to their house.
He didn’t bring assistants or bodyguards or photographers.
Just himself.
And a chocolate cake he made himself—badly.
The children stared at him like he was a visiting alien. Hazel was the first to speak.
“You look like me,” she said, squinting.
Damien smiled. “That’s because you look amazing.”
Eli crossed his arms. “Are you mom’s new boyfriend?”
Arielle nearly choked.
“No,” Damien said carefully. “I’m… a friend. A new one.”
“Do friends bring cake?” Lily asked.
“They should.”
“Then you’re okay.”
Later, Arielle found Damien outside on the porch, watching the kids chase bubbles in the yard.
He looked… human. Humbled.
“They liked you,” she said softly.
“I like them more than I thought possible.”
She stood beside him. “You still want us in the estate?”
“I want you safe. Comfortable. Together.”
She turned to him.
“One month trial. That’s all I’ll agree to. And if the kids aren’t happy—”
“Then you walk away.”
She nodded.
“I’ll have the contract redrawn,” he said.
“No
. No more contracts.”
He raised a brow.
“Just… trust.”
He looked at her then.
Not with power. Not with arrogance.
With hope.
And that was how their real beginning started.