Brooklyn couldn't stop thinking about the kiss.
It was nothing like she expected from Damien.
Not cold. Not calculated.
It had been soft. Tender. A little hesitant, like he didn't want to break something fragile.
But it had wrecked her.
She barely slept that night. Her fingers kept brushing over her lips, replaying the moment like it was a secret she wasn't sure she deserved to keep.
Was this still a contract marriage?
Or was it becoming something else?
The kiss didn't fix everything — but it changed everything.
---
Morning – Kitchen
The next morning, she found Damien in the kitchen, already dressed in a charcoal suit, sleeves rolled up as he poured two mugs of coffee.
"You beat the staff to it?" she asked, smiling faintly.
"I needed to do something with my hands," he said, offering her a cup.
Their fingers brushed.
Her heart did that thing again.
"We need to talk," he said gently.
Brooklyn nodded, taking a seat at the island.
"About last night?" she asked.
He leaned against the counter, arms folded. "About everything. Elias. The media. You. Me."
She swallowed hard. "Okay…"
"I've arranged for added security around the building," he said. "Elias won't be able to get near you again."
"And what about the press?"
"We ignore them."
Brooklyn raised an eyebrow. "That's your plan?"
He stepped closer. "Brooklyn… the more we explain ourselves, the more they feed off us. But if we focus on us, not them—we win."
She didn't know what "us" meant yet, but the way he said it made her want to find out.
Just as she opened her mouth to respond—
The elevator pinged.
A moment later, Vivienne appeared in the doorway, her face tight with concern.
"Mr. Carter," she said. "You have an urgent visitor."
Damien frowned. "I'm not expecting anyone."
Vivienne hesitated. "It's someone from her past."
Brooklyn blinked. "My past?"
Vivienne stepped aside.
And in walked Emmett.
---
Living Room – Collision Course
Brooklyn stood frozen.
Her lungs forgot how to breathe.
"Emmett?" she choked out.
He looked exactly the same — tall, tanned, cocky smirk that used to charm her senseless.
But this time… she felt nothing.
Just the echo of a wound.
"Hi, Brook," he said casually, like he hadn't ghosted her the second she told him she was pregnant.
Damien stiffened beside her.
Brooklyn stepped forward. "What are you doing here?"
Emmett shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, glanced around the luxury penthouse like it was a museum exhibit.
"Came to see if it's true. You really married Damien Carter?"
She folded her arms. "Why do you care?"
"I saw your press conference. You didn't mention me. Thought maybe we should talk."
Damien stepped in front of Brooklyn like a shield.
"She has nothing to say to you."
Emmett scoffed. "Let her speak for herself, husband."
Brooklyn's fingers curled into fists.
"I did tell you," she said coldly. "I told you I was pregnant. You disappeared. You didn't text. You didn't call. You blocked me."
"I wasn't ready," Emmett said weakly. "But I'm here now—"
"You were ready to sleep with me. But not to raise a child with me?" she snapped.
He flinched.
"I don't need your apology," she continued, voice hardening. "And I definitely don't need your guilt."
"Then why didn't you terminate it?"
Brooklyn's breath caught.
Damien took a sharp step forward. "Get out."
Emmett smirked. "What, gonna sic your lawyers on me?"
Damien's voice dropped to lethal calm. "You don't belong here. If you come near her again, I will press charges."
Brooklyn turned her face away, heart pounding.
She hadn't cried in months.
She wouldn't give Emmett the satisfaction now.
Vivienne appeared at the door again. "Mr. Carter, security's waiting."
Damien didn't hesitate.
"Escort him out."
As the guards closed in, Emmett gave Brooklyn one last look.
"You're going to regret not letting me be part of the kid's life."
Brooklyn's voice rang like steel.
"I already regret ever letting you in mine."
---
Afterward – Her Bedroom
Brooklyn sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Damien walked in quietly.
He didn't speak.
Just sat beside her.
After a long silence, she said, "I thought I wanted closure."
Damien glanced at her.
She laughed bitterly. "Turns out, I just wanted him to beg. Or suffer. Or something. But all I got was a reminder of who he really is."
"You didn't need him then," Damien said. "You don't need him now."
Brooklyn rested her head on his shoulder. "I know."
They sat there quietly for a long moment.
Then she looked up at him.
"I think I'm finally ready to stop running."
Damien turned his head. "From what?"
"From this," she whispered.
"From you."
---
Evening – Damien's Study
Vivienne stood in front of Damien, her expression unreadable.
"I did a background check on Emmett," she said. "He's been talking to someone."
Damien narrowed his eyes. "Who?"
Vivienne hesitated. "Elias."
A beat of silence passed.
Damien's mouth hardened into a thin line. "Of course."
"They met three days ago. We think Elias tracked down Emmett and paid him to come forward."
"Why?"
Vivienne's voice was grim. "To destabilize Brooklyn. To rattle her. And to start a custody rumor."
Damien's jaw clenched. "He's trying to make it look like she's unfit."
"Exactly."
He stood up, full of cold energy. "We're not letting him win."
Vivienne nodded. "What's your move?"
Damien looked toward the hallway.
Toward Brooklyn.
"She's not a pawn. She's the queen."
---
Late Night – Rooftop Garden
The wind was cool, brushing Brooklyn's cheeks as she stood by the railing, looking out over the glittering city.
She heard footsteps behind her.
Damien joined her in silence.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Lighter than I've felt in a long time."
"You were strong today."
She smiled slightly. "I think I'm getting used to being strong."
He watched her closely.
Then pulled a folded document from his coat.
"I want to show you something."
She took it with a frown and unfolded the paper.
It was an updated version of the marriage contract.
But this one was different.
No expiration date.
No termination clause.
Just two names.
Two signatures.
Two lives bound without conditions.
Her breath caught.
"What… what does this mean?"
Damien stepped closer.
"I don't want you to stay because of a contract," he said. "I want you to stay because you choose me. Even if we're messy. Even if it's hard."
Tears pricked her eyes.
"I never thought I'd have someone choose me," she whispered.
"You're not just someone," Damien said softly. "You're mine."
He cupped her face gently and leaned in.
This time, when their lips met, there was no hesitation.
No contract.
No walls.
Only heat, truth, and everything they hadn't said — finally spilling out.
And for once, Brooklyn didn't feel like she was faking anything.
She felt like she was home.