The room went still.
Viktor's words hung in the air like a loaded gun.
"Did you just say… Alex's baby?"
Damian didn't answer.
He stood there, unmoving, his back half-turned, the city lights cutting sharp lines across his face. His silence was heavy, dangerous.
"Damian," Viktor continued slowly, choosing his words, "Tatiana told your grandfather that you have an heir."
That got him.
Damian turned.
"What?" His voice was low, unsure—almost afraid.
"My men heard it," Viktor said.
"Tatiana told your grandfather. She said Elena was carrying your baby."
"I didn't think much of it, I thought she was just lieing because she hates Leonid"
For a second, Damian didn't breathe.
The world tilted.
"You're sure?" he asked quietly.
"Positive."
Damian's eyes widened—just a fraction. Then something cracked.
A slow, stunned laugh left his chest.
"So…" he whispered. "The baby is mine."
He took a step back, as if his legs suddenly couldn't hold him.
"Mine," he repeated.
