THE WRONG MANS BABY

Ariana's POV

The glass doors slam open so hard the hostess gasps, but I don't stop. I can't stop. My pulse is racing like I've just sprinted through traffic, but it's anger, not fear, that fuels me.

I spot him instantly.

Damian Cole.

He's impossible to miss. Broad shoulders under a perfectly tailored suit, head tipped back in laughter, a glass of red wine in hand. He looks every bit the untouchable billionaire the tabloids paint him to be.

And sitting beside him is her. Vanessa Moore. Blonde, polished, a woman who probably thinks she owns the air in this restaurant.

My stomach twists. I shouldn't be here. I know I shouldn't. But the image of that pregnancy test won't leave me. The two pink lines. The way my hands shook so badly I almost dropped it in the sink.

And now here he is-laughing like my life isn't in pieces.

"Damian!"

The word rips out of me before I can think.

Dozens of heads turn. Forks clink against plates and freeze. Music from the grand piano in the corner stutters as the pianist falters.

Damian lifts his gaze lazily, then frowns when he sees me storming across the restaurant.

He doesn't recognize me. The realization stings like salt in a wound.

Good. Let him feel the sting back.

I reach his table in seconds. My hand flies before my brain can catch up.

The sound of my palm smacking against his cheek ricochets through the room.

Gasps. Murmurs. Someone drops their spoon.

Damian jerks back, stunned, his hand going to his face. His eyes-icy blue, sharp enough to slice lock on mine. "What the hell......"

"You ruined my life!" My voice shakes, loud and raw. "You think you can sleep with me and pretend it never happened? I'm pregnant, you bastard!"

The whispers grow louder. I see a phone angled toward us. Someone else whispers, "Did she just say pregnant?"

Vanessa shoots up from her chair so fast her wine spills onto the tablecloth. Her lips curl, eyes blazing. "You....." She slaps Damian across the other cheek.

The crowd gasps again. This time, people stand to watch.

"You've been cheating on me?" Vanessa screams. "With her?" She jabs a manicured finger toward me, like I'm some insect she's pointing out to be crushed.

"I.....Vanessa, wait....." Damian begins, voice tight.

But Vanessa doesn't wait. She snatches her purse, flips her hair, and storms toward the exit, her heels hammering the marble floor like war drums.

Every pair of eyes in the restaurant snaps back to us.

Damian exhales sharply through his nose, like he's seconds from snapping. He straightens to his full height-towering, intimidating, every inch the man who thinks the world bends for him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Don't play dumb." My voice is trembling, but I refuse to back down. "You know exactly who I am."

He studies me, confusion flickering across his features, then settling into something harder. Cold. "No. I don't. I've never seen you before in my life."

My heart plummets, but I grit my teeth. "Don't you dare."

He tilts his head, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "If this is some stunt to get money out of me, you're wasting your time."

"Money?" My laugh is sharp, bitter. "You think I want your money? I want you to take responsibility."

"Responsibility for what?" His voice is quiet, dangerous. "For a child you claim is mine when I've never touched you?"

"You liar!" My throat burns as tears threaten, but I swallow them down. "I remember everything. The club. The drinks. The hotel. The tattoo."

His brow furrows. "What tattoo?"