Isabella's POV
The cramping starts during our fake negotiations with Tanaka, subtle at first but building to waves of pain that make it impossible to concentrate on their carefully orchestrated lies. I manage to maintain my diplomatic smile while Damien discusses "modified partnership terms," but by the time we're shaking hands and promising to "consider their generous offer," I'm fighting not to double over.
"Bathroom," I whisper to Damien as we're escorted toward the elevator, and something in my voice makes his protective instincts flare immediately.
"Of course." His hand settles on my lower back, warm and steadying. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us for a moment."
The executive washroom is all marble and gold fixtures, designed to impress high-powered visitors. Right now, it feels like a sanctuary as another wave of cramping hits, this one strong enough to make me gasp.
