One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 28: Chapter 28
You are reading One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband ---, Chapter 28: Chapter 28. Read more chapters of One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband ---.
It started with a single headline:
"KINGSTON HEIR #9? Billionaire Damien Expecting Another Child with Secret Wife"
Then came the avalanche.
Every news outlet, gossip blog, and corporate whisper network ignited like wildfire.
Cameras outside the hospital. Paparazzi tailing their security vehicles. Kingston Holdings’ stock slipped two full points before the markets even opened.
Inside the estate, the walls echoed with silent tension.
Arielle sat at the edge of the bed, one hand pressed protectively over her stomach. Damien stood near the window, his jaw clenched, phone in hand.
“They’re calling it a scandal,” he muttered. “Some are claiming you manipulated me for another baby. Others say I’m unstable.”
Arielle didn’t flinch. “Are you?”
He turned. “For loving you? For protecting our children? No. But for letting my guard down... maybe.”
She rose, calm but fierce. “Then it’s time we stop letting them write our story.”
That afternoon, Damien summoned his legal team, PR agents, and security heads. The room buzzed with barely concealed panic.
“Damage control is priority one,” his VP said. “This pregnancy opens you up to liability. Shareholders are nervous. Your board—”
“Let them be nervous,” Damien snapped. “This is my family, not a merger. We don’t negotiate with fear.”
But as the team dispersed, one whispered to another near the door:
“He’s losing control.”
And Arielle heard every word.
By evening, the backlash had reached the boardroom.
Anonymous sources claimed Arielle was unfit. Old photos were dragged out. Internet trolls dissected her past, her parenting, her body.
She sat with Damien in his office as the sun dipped behind skyscrapers.
“I can handle the hate,” she whispered. “But the kids…”
“They won’t see it,” he said firmly.
“But they’ll feel it.”
He looked at her, weary but resolute. “Then we give them something stronger to feel. Love. Truth. Us.”
That night, Arielle recorded a short video.
No PR filter. No edits.
Just her, sitting with all eight children, laughter rising in the background.
She spoke gently.
“Family is not always perfect. But it’s always worth protecting. My name is Arielle Kingston. These are my children. And we are not ashamed to love, to exist, or to grow.”
The video went viral within hours.
Hashtags surged. Support poured in. Mothers. Women. Families.
But so did the backlash.
And in a corner office, Damien’s largest corporate rival smiled as he watched the clip.
“Now,” he told his assistant, “let’s remind Kingston th
at emotions don’t win boardrooms.”
He made one call.
And the coup began.
"KINGSTON HEIR #9? Billionaire Damien Expecting Another Child with Secret Wife"
Then came the avalanche.
Every news outlet, gossip blog, and corporate whisper network ignited like wildfire.
Cameras outside the hospital. Paparazzi tailing their security vehicles. Kingston Holdings’ stock slipped two full points before the markets even opened.
Inside the estate, the walls echoed with silent tension.
Arielle sat at the edge of the bed, one hand pressed protectively over her stomach. Damien stood near the window, his jaw clenched, phone in hand.
“They’re calling it a scandal,” he muttered. “Some are claiming you manipulated me for another baby. Others say I’m unstable.”
Arielle didn’t flinch. “Are you?”
He turned. “For loving you? For protecting our children? No. But for letting my guard down... maybe.”
She rose, calm but fierce. “Then it’s time we stop letting them write our story.”
That afternoon, Damien summoned his legal team, PR agents, and security heads. The room buzzed with barely concealed panic.
“Damage control is priority one,” his VP said. “This pregnancy opens you up to liability. Shareholders are nervous. Your board—”
“Let them be nervous,” Damien snapped. “This is my family, not a merger. We don’t negotiate with fear.”
But as the team dispersed, one whispered to another near the door:
“He’s losing control.”
And Arielle heard every word.
By evening, the backlash had reached the boardroom.
Anonymous sources claimed Arielle was unfit. Old photos were dragged out. Internet trolls dissected her past, her parenting, her body.
She sat with Damien in his office as the sun dipped behind skyscrapers.
“I can handle the hate,” she whispered. “But the kids…”
“They won’t see it,” he said firmly.
“But they’ll feel it.”
He looked at her, weary but resolute. “Then we give them something stronger to feel. Love. Truth. Us.”
That night, Arielle recorded a short video.
No PR filter. No edits.
Just her, sitting with all eight children, laughter rising in the background.
She spoke gently.
“Family is not always perfect. But it’s always worth protecting. My name is Arielle Kingston. These are my children. And we are not ashamed to love, to exist, or to grow.”
The video went viral within hours.
Hashtags surged. Support poured in. Mothers. Women. Families.
But so did the backlash.
And in a corner office, Damien’s largest corporate rival smiled as he watched the clip.
“Now,” he told his assistant, “let’s remind Kingston th
at emotions don’t win boardrooms.”
He made one call.
And the coup began.
End of One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- Chapter 28. Continue reading Chapter 29 or return to One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- book page.