My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas
Chapter 87: Baby in the making ( Damian’s POV )

Chapter 87: Baby in the making ( Damian’s POV )

"I am done."

The words left my mouth as soon as another drink hurt my throat. It’s not fair. No fair at all.

You promised.

Why aren’t you here? Taking care of my wounds? Making sure I’m ok?

Why won’t you just love me back?

I did all I could for you. I nearly got killed. How could you just leave me here?

Bleeding?

Crying?

Drowning myself in alcohol?

I sat on the floor with my back against his couch. My legs were stretched out, one sock halfway off, Tom’s coat still clinging to my back from earlier. I didn’t turn on any lights. The place still smelled like him — soap, cologne, coffee. It made my chest feel tight.

The bottle was almost gone. I wasn’t drinking fast. Just steady.

Slow sips that made my throat burn and my stomach feel heavy. I didn’t mix it with anything.

Couldn’t bother.

The glass kept slipping out of my hand, and I had to readjust it every few minutes. My fingers were numb, but I didn’t care.

I just sat there in silence.

As if that helped.

As if it didn’t feel worse being surrounded by all his things.

The photos, the clothes folded on the armchair, the shoes by the door that he always forgot to move.

I wanted to throw everything against the wall and break it all, but I didn’t move.

The cut on my head had stopped bleeding. I touched it earlier in the bathroom and winced. It was shallow, but it throbbed.

I doubt he even noticed it.

He was too busy worrying over Luther.

I looked around the room again, like something might’ve changed in the last few minutes.

But it hadn’t.

Everything was exactly how he left it.

Clean, quiet, untouched.

I hated how normal it looked.

I reached for the bottle again.

My hands shook more this time. I barely tasted it anymore. My throat just felt raw. I leaned my head back against the couch, closing my eyes for a second. My whole body felt off — empty, sore, like I hadn’t eaten or slept in days.

Even though it had only been hours.

I didn’t cry.

Not because I didn’t want to.

I just couldn’t.

Nothing was coming out.

It was all stuck somewhere deep in my chest, pressing hard like a weight.

I stayed there, alone in his space, drinking what was left of his liquor.

Waiting for nothing.

My God, just how pathetic can I be?

Why am I even so in love with this man?

"Move aside!"

Lucrezia sat on the couch. I didn’t notice when she entered the room.

The way I was placed just as a lump at her feet—

Me on the floor.

She on the sofa.

Pretty representative of our social rank and relationship.

The night couldn’t get any better.

"Give me the bottle!"

She took the bottle from my hand without saying anything and tipped it back like it was water.

No hesitation. Just a long sip, then another, before she handed it back.

Her nails were perfect — long, red, sharp at the ends — and she moved like someone who was used to being watched.

I always admired her for preserving her beauty like that.

Even if she was nothing but cruel to me.

Omegas and women are alike in a way-

We have to use our beauty and our brains to lead and manipulate the ones who are truly in power.

Men. Alphas.

Because they will never let us be equal.

Not really.

I passed the bottle back again and she took it like we’d done this a hundred times.

No flinch, no eye contact, just a quiet kind of routine between two people who didn’t want to be alone but also didn’t want to talk.

"So what now?" she asked.

"I don’t know."

"Hopefully that wound won’t scar. If it does, it will bring your value down."

I shrugged.

Mean and cold as it sounded, she was not wrong.

"Killian will never love you."

"I know."

"So trap him.", she said nonchalantly."Make a baby."

She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I just stood there, bottle still in my hand, staring at her. I couldn’t tell if she was joking. She didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t even blink.

Just looked at me like she was waiting for an answer. Like her suggestion hadn’t just knocked the air out of my lungs.

I didn’t move.

Couldn’t, really.

My brain was still trying to catch up.

Would a child really solve it all?

Could this be the solution to shackling Killian to me?

So we are both miserable. But together.

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I closed it again. Looked away. Looked back. She didn’t say it again. Didn’t need to.

I felt my grip tighten on the bottle without meaning to. I wasn’t angry — just off balance. Caught in this weird moment where the room didn’t feel real anymore. Like everything had shifted slightly to the side and I was the only one who noticed.

She didn’t look concerned. Or embarrassed. If anything, she looked bored waiting for me to catch up. Like this was a regular Tuesday for her. No hesitation, no nerves. Just bold and calm like always.

I finally caught my words.

"How? He wouldn’t even touch me."

She scoffed.

"He’s an alpha. You just need to play smart and he’ll fold."

"Why are you helping me?"

I straightened up a little, trying to read her face. She wasn’t hiding the emotion, but something about it felt off. Almost like she was putting it on just enough for me to notice.

"Because a baby would give me a tighter grip on Killian. We have a bumpy road ahead. The death of the Prime Minister left a lot of power out for grabs."

I raised an eyebrow without meaning to, caught somewhere between confusion and curiosity.

"But how can a baby ensure you gain that power?"

"Darling", Lucrezia said in a pressing voice. "Don’t think. You’ll get wrinkles and I need you pretty and dolled up."

"So? What’s the plan?"

"Tonight? We drink? Tomorrow? I’ll gain another chess piece while you gain a pregnancy. I’ll deal with it all. You just have to— ride it out."

"Killian is with Luther. He won’t come home."

"Oh, darling, of course he will. After all, Luther is just using him for comfort. Once the shock will wear off, he will choose what he had chosen once before."

"Emiliano?"

Her face soured in disgust as she shook her head disapprovingly.

"Tom."

"Tom?"

"Yes, the college sweethearts will reunite, leaving a broken Killian behind. And you will console it for that night."

I gulped, quick and shallow. It wasn’t fear. Not exactly. It was something sharper. Excitement, maybe — the kind that hits low in your stomach and spreads before you can stop it.

I didn’t understand why.

Not after all that happened tonight.

And yet—

Just the thought of holding Killian again as he unfolds in my arms was enough to make my heart race out of my chest

How utterly pathetic.

"But how will you—"

"Shhh," she said, quiet and steady.

I stood there, jaw tight, heat crawling up the back of my neck. I hated how easily she silenced me. Hated how calm she looked, like she was always five steps ahead.

But I still listened. I always did.

She pulled her hand away and turned like she hadn’t just shut down the entire conversation. Like she was doing me a favor.

And maybe she was. But I hated that too.

"Before the reveal will weaken your obedience to me, I have to let you know", she said after a while." Although I wasn’t the one ordering it, I am responsible for the grenade."

What?

"Because of you, we almost died?"

Lucrezia shrugged.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. Not yet. My chest was tight, breathing shallow, like I was holding something in that was about to break loose.

And she didn’t show an ounce of guilt.

"It had to be done flawlessly."

"Why?"

Lucrezia slammed the bottle down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. I flinched, but she didn’t look at me. Her jaw was tight, lips pressed together, eyes sharp and wet all at once.

Her face shifted fast — first anger, then disgust, and finally something quieter. Sadness, maybe. But it didn’t soften her. It just made everything around her feel heavier.

She stood still, one hand still on the bottle, the other hanging by her side like she didn’t know what to do with it. Her stare was cold, but I could see it — the crack behind it. The part she didn’t mean to show.

"Revenge. The destruction of Emiliano Sanchez."

"Why? What did he do to you?"

Lucrezia turned around, as she began to walk out of the room.

Before exiting, she said dryly:

"I’ll send you some heat-inducing medicine. Get a marking while you’re at it. Or mark him yourself. Don’t screw up! I’m way more dangerous than that grenade."