Damien's voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that silenced any thought of disagreement. The hospital staff quickly excused themselves, leaving behind only the two people who truly held power over the Rourke family.
Madam Rourke turned to face her grandson. Her eyes softened with pride—he was the brightest star in her long lineage, the grandson who had single-handedly raised the market value of the Rourke Corporation by 20% since taking over as president. Under his reign, the Rourke name had become untouchable.
Yet his personal life remained unsettled. And for a matriarch like Madam Rourke, that simply would not do.
To the world, Damien Rourke was a cold, calculated force. But in front of his grandmother, he was still just the boy she'd watched grow up.
"Grandma, why did you come all the way here?" he asked, his voice losing its sharp edge now that they were alone. "If you weren't feeling well, you could've had a doctor sent to the house. You shouldn't have exerted yourself like this."
Madam Rourke didn't take the bait. Her face was alight with satisfaction. "Don't act clueless with me. Do you think I wouldn't come for something as important as the continuation of the Rourke bloodline?"
Damien's eyes darkened. "Continuation of the bloodline? Grandma, you must be mistaken. Selene isn't planning on getting married anytime soon—there's no next generation to speak of."
With a swift smack to the head, Madam Rourke cut him off. "Enough with the nonsense! If Selene Clark wants to chase after her precious career, then let her! The Rourke family is hardly lacking in women willing to bear your child."
Damien stiffened. "You're not seriously planning to let that woman carry the baby, are you?" His unease surged. "No. That's not going to happen."
Her expression grew frosty. "You're still holding out for that Selene girl? I've indulged your feelings for years, Damien, but open your eyes. Look how long she's made you wait. Years have passed and still no promise, no child. Our family doesn't need her money. She can continue being a model after she gives birth, if she wants! But at this rate, you'll be thirty before she even decides!"
"But you promised me," he said, frustration creeping into his tone. "You said if I took the presidency, you wouldn't interfere with my marriage."
"And you promised me you'd be married by twenty-eight," she shot back, voice rising. "Selene has strung you along long enough. She's brought you no future. If she can't carry the Rourke legacy, then she won't be my granddaughter-in-law!"
The argument flared outside the lavish private ward. Inside, Elara stirred.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly woke up. The surroundings—gleaming chandeliers, hand-carved furniture, high-end fixtures—felt like something from a dream. Or a nightmare.
She thought she heard the name Selene being mentioned.
Selene? That couldn't be. Selene was in Milan… was she hallucinating?
She tried to rise, but before she could lift herself from the bed, a hushed voice called out from beyond the door: "The young miss is awake. Prepare everything."
The next moment, the door swung open. A woman stepped in—elegant and dignified despite her age, with the kind of presence that demanded respect. A small group of medical staff followed behind her.
Elara blinked at them, confusion plastered across her face.
The last thing she remembered was being at the office. There had been a meeting. Hadn't she fainted?
Oh no. She'd missed the meeting!
She scrambled to sit up, but the older woman gently motioned for her to stop.
"Don't move," she said warmly, her eyes glinting with approval. "Let the doctors take another look. You're important now—our family's hope."
Elara was stunned. "I… I'm sorry, but who are you? What happened? Why am I here?"
The woman chuckled, clearly entertained by the girl's flustered demeanor. "I'm the chairman of Rourke Corporation. Damien Rourke's grandmother. And you?"
"Elara. My name is Elara Wynn," she replied quickly. "Chairman, I… I don't know what happened. I must have collapsed. I promise I didn't mean to cause trouble! Please don't fire me—I'll do better, I swear!"
Mrs. Rourke raised a finger, quieting her instantly.
"You rest. Don't worry about your job. No one in that company would dare touch you with me around." Her eyes softened again. "As long as you deliver this baby safely, I'll make sure you're well taken care of."
With that, she turned and left the room.
Elara sat frozen, the words still echoing in her ears.
Deliver this baby?
What baby?