One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 59: Chapter 59

It was raining again—the kind of rain that made even marble homes feel haunted. Arielle stood beneath the covered archway of the Lancaster estate, arms crossed, breath visible in the chill.
The invitation had been sudden. Damien’s father—Sebastian Lancaster—had asked to meet her alone. No agenda. No Damien.
Arielle had considered refusing.
But she wanted to look the man in the eye.
She walked into the conservatory, where Sebastian waited beside a fire that somehow didn’t warm the space.
He looked like an older, colder version of Damien—razor-sharp cheekbones, steel-grey hair, eyes devoid of softness.
“Arielle,” he said, rising.
“Mr. Lancaster.”
“Tea?”
“No.”
He gestured to the seat across from him. She didn’t sit.
“I’ll be brief,” he said. “You are, no doubt, aware that your presence has placed my son’s legacy under... scrutiny.”
“I’m aware your family doesn’t like me.”
He ignored the jab.
“I’m here with a solution. An offer.”
He reached into the side drawer of a nearby antique table and pulled out an envelope. Thick. Embossed. Sealed.
“One million,” he said. “Tax-free. Offshore. And a townhouse in Florence. You walk away. Quietly. No drama.”
Arielle blinked once.
“I’m pregnant with his child.”
“I’m aware.”
“You think I can be bought?”
“I think everyone has a price.”
She stepped closer, voice steady.
“You’re wrong.”
She tore the envelope in half. Let the pieces fall between them.
Sebastian’s jaw tensed.
“Don’t be foolish. You come from nothing. You’ve survived off scraps and hope. I’m offering you security. Dignity.”
“No,” she said. “You’re offering me cowardice. A way to disappear so you can preserve the illusion of perfection.”
She leaned in.
“But I’m not your secret. I’m your son’s truth.”
He stood slowly, towering over her.
“If you stay, I will bury you in ways your bakery and smiles cannot survive.”
She met his gaze. “Then dig. But remember—I plant seeds in the holes others dig for me.”
She turned and walked out, storm matching the rage in her chest.
Damien was waiting in the foyer.
He’d heard enough.
His eyes were burning.
“I’ll end him,” he whispered.
“No,” Arielle said, shaking. “He wants that. He wants you to choose between me and your empire. We won’t let him dictate anything.”
He held her.
“I’ll protect you.”
“You already do,” she whispered. “But this... this I needed to do alone.”
He kissed her forehead. “Next time, I’ll burn the envelope for you.”
That night, Arielle penned a letter to her unborn child.
> You come from fire and stone. But your heart will be gold. Not because of blood—but because you will know what it means to choose love, even when it’s hard.
Sebastian Lancaster, miles away, stood at his office window and watched the rain.
He lit a cigar.
He didn’t lose battles.
But his son wasn’t a boy anymore.
And the girl?
She had fire.
He would watch.
And wait.
And strike—when it burned most.