Riley's POV
The crying shattered the silence.
Riley bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding, sweat clinging to her skin. For a second she couldn't tell if the sound was from her dream or reality, until a wail cut through the thin walls again, raw and insistent.
Caleb.
Her chest ached as she swung her legs out of the narrow bed, the cold floor biting her bare feet. The apartment was dark, save for the pale glow of a streetlamp seeping through a cracked blind. She didn't need the clock on the peeling wall to know it was barely dawn. Her body already lived in rhythm with her son's cries, every nerve wired to his needs.
Crossing the cramped room, Riley scooped him into her arms. Caleb's tiny fists flailed, his storm-gray eyes…Damian's eyes…squeezed shut as he screamed. Every time she looked into them, it was like being branded with the past.
"Shh, baby. Mama's here," she whispered, rocking him gently. Her dark hair spilled forward, tickling his soft cheeks. His skin was as soft as rose petals, his breath warm against her collarbone. Slowly, his cries dissolved into hiccupping whimpers as he nuzzled against her chest.
Riley pressed a kiss to his forehead. His warmth, his very existence, was the only thing that kept her standing most days. The world could be cruel, unforgiving but when Caleb smiled at her, even for a fleeting moment, she believed she could survive anything.
Except money didn't stretch as easily as love.
Her gaze drifted to the kitchen corner, where a stack of unopened envelopes lay on the counter. Unpaid bills, rent notices, final warnings. The sight was enough to make her throat tighten. Even the wallpaper seemed to mock her, peeling in long strips that revealed water stains beneath. The secondhand couch sagged like a tired old man, and the single window rattled whenever the wind picked up.
The apartment wasn't much, just two small bedrooms, a kitchen that doubled as a living space, and a bathroom with pipes that groaned louder than the neighbors' TV. But it was theirs, barely, and it kept a roof over Caleb's head.
Behind her, a sleepy voice mumbled, "Riley, is he okay?"
Chloe leaned against the doorframe, her curls sticking out in wild directions, a faded T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. Her roommate, best friend, and unofficial co-parent. Without Chloe, Riley didn't know if she'd still be standing.
"He's fine," Riley said softly, adjusting Caleb on her hip. "Just hungry."
Chloe padded across the room, rubbing her eyes. "You barely slept last night. Let me take him for a bit while you rest."
Riley shook her head, a small smile tugging her lips. "No, it's okay. You've already done enough. You worked the late shift and then still came home to help with him. I can't keep leaning on you like this."
Chloe snorted. "Please. That kid is half mine by now. You think I'd let you do this alone? Not a chance." She tickled Caleb's cheek until he gurgled softly, and her tired face softened. "Besides, he's worth every sleepless night. Just look at him. He's got those eyes…"
Riley stiffened, her smile faltering. She knew exactly whose eyes he had.
When Caleb finally drifted back to sleep, Riley laid him gently in the secondhand crib shoved into the corner. The crib's paint was chipped, one leg slightly uneven, but Caleb didn't care. He sighed in his sleep, his tiny chest rising and falling like the most fragile miracle. Riley lingered for a moment, brushing her fingers over his soft curls, before slipping into the kitchen.
Chloe was already there, rummaging through the cupboards. The smell of burnt coffee soon filled the air, but neither of them complained. They couldn't afford to be picky.
"Rent's due in a week," Chloe said bluntly, dropping into one of the mismatched chairs with two chipped mugs in hand. "And unless you've got a hidden stash of cash, we're short again."
Riley sank into the chair opposite, wrapping her hands around the mug though the coffee was bitter. "I know. I've been thinking… maybe I should get another job. Nights, maybe. A bar or something."
"Like what?" Chloe raised her eye brows, "Stripper?"
Riley rolled her eyes, sipping the coffee.
"Riley…" Chloe's brows pinched together. "You're already working double shifts at the diner. When will you sleep? When will you see Caleb? You'll kill yourself at this pace."
Her throat burned. "I'll figure it out. He needs formula, diapers, clothes. He's growing so fast. I can't keep falling behind."
Chloe reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "We'll manage. We always do. Don't destroy yourself in the process."
Riley tried to smile, but the weight in her chest was unbearable. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough. If I'm enough. He deserves more than… this." She gestured around the apartment.
"You're giving him love, Riley. Do you know how many kids don't even have that? He's happy. He's healthy. That's because of you."
Riley swallowed hard, blinking away sudden tears. Once upon a time, she wanted to be a chef. She'd imagined her own restaurant, her name on the sign, the smell of spices and fresh bread filling the air. She could almost see it when she closed her eyes until the sound of Caleb crying yanked her back to reality.
"Someday," Chloe said softly, as though reading her thoughts. "You'll get that restaurant. I believe it."
Riley laughed bitterly. "Someday feels like a fairy tale."
"And what's wrong with fairy tales? You're living one already…you had a one-night stand with a billionaire, remember?"
The words stung sharper than intended. Riley's dark, pretty eyes, framed by lashes that could silence a room flashed with pain. Her cheekbones, still high and striking despite exhaustion, seemed carved from a beauty she couldn't escape.
Chloe immediately winced. "Sorry. That was a shitty joke."
"It's fine," Riley whispered, though it wasn't. She never spoke Damian's name, not even to Chloe. Some ghosts were too heavy to summon.
By late morning, Riley was dressed for work, a plain uniform, hair pulled into a neat bun, makeup minimal. She caught her reflection in the cracked mirror by the door. She was still beautiful, too beautiful for this life. Her full lips still carried a natural flush, her dark almond-shaped eyes still glittered with fire, but shadows lurked beneath them, carved by sleepless nights. The kind of beauty that couldn't be dimmed, only hidden behind weariness.
"Text me if Caleb needs me," she told Chloe, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.
"Go make those tips, mama," Chloe said with a grin. "I'll hold down the fort."
Riley bent down, kissed Caleb's cheek, and whispered, "For you, baby. Everything I do is for you." Chloe gave her a sarcastic questioning look.
"And you too babe," Then she slipped out into the gray morning.
The diner buzzed with clattering plates and the low hum of conversations when she arrived. The smell of frying bacon and strong coffee clung to the air. Riley forced on a smile, balancing trays and coffee pots like second nature. She greeted the regulars, ignored the leering comments from a few men, and buried herself in the rhythm of survival.
Until the bell above the door jingled.
Riley glanced up, and her world froze for a minute.
A man had stepped inside, tall and commanding, his presence impossible to ignore. Even in worn jeans and a simple jacket, he looked out of place here, like a wolf in a pen of sheep.
Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Storm-gray eyes. The same eyes she saw every day in her son.
Her hands shook so badly the coffee nearly spilled. It couldn't be. It couldn't be him. Not here. Not now.
Riley ducked behind the counter, her chest heaving, panic clawing at her throat. She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle a gasp, her eyes stinging with tears.
No. She wasn't ready. He couldn't see her. He couldn't see Caleb.
But fate was cruel.
And Damian Blackwood…whether it was truly him or just a haunting resemblance, had just walked into her fragile little world.