Isabella's POV
The morning sickness hits me like a freight train the moment I step into the boardroom, but I force myself to remain steady as I spread the Tokyo expansion reports across the mahogany table. The numbers are everything I hoped they'd be, Tanaka Industries wants to partner with us, and the Asian market is practically begging for Cross-Sterling's technology.
"The opportunity window won't stay open forever," I tell the room, though my eyes keep drifting to Damien's rigid posture at the head of the table. He's been like this for three days now, ever since Dr. Martinez mentioned the word "complications" during my last appointment.
"Isabella." His voice cuts through my presentation like silk over steel. "We need to discuss this privately."
