One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

The press conference was scheduled for 10:00 a.m.
By 9:00, the plaza outside Kingston Holdings was a frenzy of reporters, camera crews, protestors, admirers, and skeptics. A red carpet had been rolled out, and every entrance was under tight security. The world knew Damien Kingston was making a statement—what they didn’t know was how personal it would be.
Backstage, Arielle adjusted the lapels of her simple but elegant cream dress. Her heart thundered with nerves, her belly fluttering with more than just the pregnancy. The children, dressed immaculately, waited in a separate room, under the careful watch of trusted guards.
Damien stood beside her, adjusting his cufflinks. “You don’t have to say anything,” he told her.
She turned to face him. “I want to.”
His eyes searched hers. “You sure?”
She gave a single nod. “If they want the truth, we give them all of it.”
He stepped closer, touched her cheek.
“Today,” he whispered, “I claim what’s mine.”
When Damien stepped up to the podium, the noise surged like a tidal wave. Flashbulbs. Shouts.
He raised a hand and silence fell.
“Good morning,” he began, voice smooth but firm. “Today is not a day for denial or spin. It’s a day for truth.”
He paused, scanning the sea of faces.
“For over a decade, I built Kingston Holdings from the inside out. I’ve led with numbers, with precision, and with control. But no empire is complete without its heart. Mine was missing—until now.”
He turned.
And Arielle stepped onto the stage.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
“This is my wife, Arielle Kingston,” he said without flinching. “She is not a mistress. Not a scandal. She is the mother of my children. My partner. My equal.”
He gestured, and the side doors opened.
One by one, the children appeared—Noah first, holding Lily’s hand. Hazel following shyly. The octuplets lined up, the image of a modern dynasty.
“These are my heirs,” Damien said. “All of them. My legacy is not just in business. It’s in family.”
The crowd roared with a mixture of awe, curiosity, and disbelief.
Then came the questions.
“Mr. Kingston, why now?”
“Mrs. Kingston, were you hiding?”
“Are the children genetically Damien’s?”
Arielle leaned in, taking the mic. “We didn’t hide. We survived. We chose peace over performance. But now, it’s time we write the story ourselves.”
The room shifted. Reporters who came to shred them leaned forward, intrigued.
But not all were impressed.
In the back, Thomas Greaves watched from behind dark glasses, unmoved.
“She’s beautiful,” the woman beside him said. “And dangerous to your plans.”
“She won’t last,” he replied coldly.
He pulled out a phone and sent a single message:
Begin Phase Two.
Back on stage, Damien wrapped an arm around Arielle’s waist.
“This is only the beginning,” he said.
And for a brief, fragile moment, everything
felt right.
But behind the applause, behind the cheers, something darker stirred.