CHAPTER 27 (Earlier) D'S Mom: "Please, my dear, please think about it," she pleaded, her eyes filled with a desperate kind of understanding. "Think about your baby. Your innocent baby." Y/N: "Okay, Ma'am," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. "I...I won't. I won't hurt the baby. I couldn't." But Damian...Damian was a different story. "But Damian..." I trailed off, unable to articulate the swirling storm of emotions inside me. Hate, love, confusion, fear...they were all tangled together, a suffocating knot in my chest. "I need time," I finally managed. "I need to figure things out." But how could I possibly figure anything out when my mind was a battlefield? (One year later) Y/N's POV "Damian Jr., you little devil, get your butt over here this instant!" I roared, my voice echoing through the house. The tiny human tornado I called my son was currently wreaking havoc in the living room, scattering toys like confetti and climbing the curtains with the agility of a monkey. One year old. Just one year old, and he was already driving me insane. But in the best possible way. Damian walked into the room, a broad smile spreading across his face. He knew exactly what the commotion was about. He always did. "What's wrong, my love?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "That little monster of yours," I said, throwing my hands up in mock exasperation, though a smile was playing on my lips. "He's giving me a splitting headache. He's got more energy than a nuclear power plant, and he absolutely refuses to listen to a word I say! He's like a tiny, adorable, destructive force of nature!" I watched as Damian Jr. launched himself from the curtains onto the sofa, a triumphant giggle escaping his lips. My heart swelled with a love so fierce it took my breath away. He was a handful, yes. But he was our handful. And he was perfect.