The anger in his voice had disappeared.
That was worse.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He nodded once, but he did not tell her it was all right.
Because it was not.
A few minutes later, Gloria returned with the twins.
She studied Damian carefully.
“You planning to frighten my daughter?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Planning to threaten her?”
“No.”
“Lawyers?”
Damian paused.
“I have lawyers.
I am not going to use them to punish Zara for being afraid.”
Gloria’s shoulders relaxed by a fraction.
“But,” Damian continued, “I am their father.
I’m not disappearing because this conversation is uncomfortable.”
Zara looked at him.
There was the Damian Cole the newspapers described.
Not loud.
Not theatrical.
Simply immovable once he had decided something mattered.
“What do you want?” Zara asked.
He looked at the twins.
“To know them.”
“That’s all?”
“For tonight? Yes.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I still want to know them.”
The simplicity of the answer unsettled her more than a threat would have.
Damian did not demand to hold the children.
He sat on the floor instead.
For nearly ten minutes, nothing happened.
Then one twin rolled a small toy toward him.
Damian caught it.
His entire face softened.
He rolled it back.
The child giggled.
Damian stopped breathing for half a second.
Zara saw it.
So did Gloria.
For the next hour, Damian Cole—CEO, billionaire, the man feared in negotiations across the country—sat cross-legged on a worn rug while two toddlers gradually decided he was interesting enough to investigate.
When he finally left, he did not take the search folder.
He left it on Zara’s table.
“Why are you leaving that?” she asked.
“So you can see how long I looked.”
He walked to the door.
Zara hesitated.
“Damian.”
He turned.
“What happens now?”
His answer was quiet.
“That depends on how much truth you’re willing to give me.”
The next weeks were not romantic.
They were difficult.
